“No real Miss Proctor?” repeated Ethel, in the most relieved tone. “Then we have no awful lieutenant—”
“Yes, you have a lieutenant, and she’s pretty awful,” interrupted Marjorie, her eyes twinkling mysteriously.
“Who? Tell us quick, Marj!” demanded Alice.
“Well, she’s just passed her eighteenth birthday,” said Marjorie,—“and—and—oh, you tell them, Lil!”
Lily stepped forward, and proudly put her arm about her chum.
“The long and the short of it is, girls,” she said, “that Marj is our new lieutenant!”
The gasps of happiness, together with the congratulations that followed this announcement removed any doubts which Marjorie might have entertained as to the approval of the other girls. Amid the confusion Walter Brooks made an effort to escape unnoticed. But Marjorie detained him.
“Not without your punishment!” she said. “Doris, lock the door! Now, tell us how you worked this clever little trick!”
The young man flushed, and looked helplessly from one girl to another. He made such a ridiculous picture in his long black dress, and his short hair, bereft of the wig, that the girls again broke into laughter.
“I know it was partly my fault,” volunteered Lily, coming to Walter’s rescue. “I told him about the fake lieutenant.”