No further mention of the affair was made between mother and daughter that evening. Nevertheless, Marjorie went to school the next morning in a far from buoyant mood. She had been wakened by a reverberating roll of thunder, followed by the furious beating of rain against her windows. A true child of sunshine, the steady tapping of the heavy drops filled her with a dread sense of oppression which she could not shake off.
By noon, however, it had passed away with the storm. When she went home to luncheon the sun was high in the sky. The rain-washed streets were rapidly succumbing to his warm smile. Only a puddle here and there, or a shower of silver drops from a breeze-shaken tree remained to remind her of the morning deluge.
Returning from luncheon, she had hardly gained her seat when Miss Merton stalked down the aisle to her desk. “Report to Miss Archer at once, Miss Dean,” she commanded in her most disagreeable manner.
Marjorie’s thoughts immediately flew to yesterday. Was it possible that Rowena Farnham had gone to the principal of her own volition? It was hardly to be credited. Remembering her mother’s note, Marjorie jumped to the conclusion that this was the most probable reason for the summons.
“Good afternoon, Marjorie,” greeted Miss Archer from her desk, as the pretty junior appeared in the doorway. “Come here, my dear. I have something rather unusual to show you.” She motioned Marjorie to draw up a chair beside her own. “I wonder if you can throw any light upon this.”
“This” was an open letter, which she now tendered to the puzzled girl. Marjorie read:
“Miss Archer:
“Yesterday morning, at a little after eleven o’clock, Marjorie Dean and a girl with red hair and black eyes, whose name I do not know, meddled with the examination papers on your desk while you were in another part of the building. Marjorie Dean showed the girl how to do one of the examination problems in algebra. This I know because I heard them talking about it and saw them have the list of questions. Such dishonesty is a disgrace to Sanford High School.
“The Observer.”
Marjorie allowed the letter to fall from her nerveless hands. She felt herself grow hot and cold as she forced herself to meet Miss Archer’s intent scrutiny. Yet she said nothing. Only her brown eyes sent forth agonized signals of distress.