Gradually becoming convinced of her cavalier’s perfidy, Mignon crossly snubbed two Weston High boys who asked her to dance and switched haughtily toward a corner of the room where a big punch bowl of fruit lemonade awaited the thirsty. As she neared it her elfish eyes began to sparkle with malicious purpose. Standing beside it was Lucy Warner, her small face aglow with half envious delight as she watched the dancers. Unfortunately for Lucy, she did not know how to dance.
“Having a good time?” inquired Mignon patronizingly, as she toyed with the handle of the silver ladle preparatory to filling a cup with lemonade.
“Oh, yes.” Forgetting the disapproval of Mignon which Marjorie Dean’s recent explanation concerning the secretaryship had caused her to feel, Lucy answered almost eagerly. The next instant she stiffened perceptibly, and started to move away from Mignon.
“Wait a minute,” ordered Mignon, quick to note the change. “What’s the matter? Are you angry with me? I’m sure you have no reason to be.”
Remembering Marjorie’s injunction not to allow herself to be drawn into a quarrel with the French girl, Lucy hesitated. “You will have to excuse me,” she said quietly. “I am going home now.”
“Oh, are you? That’s too bad. I was just about to tell you something. Never mind. Perhaps it wouldn’t be wise to tell you.”
“What do you mean?” Lucy’s green eyes gleamed surprised displeasure. The suspicious side of her nature, however, clamored for information. She knew that she ought to go on about her business, but curiosity stayed her feet.
“Oh, nothing much.” Mignon shrugged her shoulders. “It was merely about something that happened last year. I’ve changed my mind. I am not going to tell you. You know it’s forbidden among the Lookouts to gossip. I’ll just give you a piece of advice. As a Lookout, it would pay you to keep your eyes open. There are some very deceitful girls in Sanford High School. One of them in particular pretends to be your friend. I should advise you to be careful what you tell her. She is not to be trusted.”
“What do you mean?” Lucy again demanded, with a deep scowl. She wondered if Mignon’s last insinuation meant Marjorie Dean.
“Use your eyes and ears and you’ll find out for yourself.” With an amused laugh, Mignon set the cup she held on the table and walked away, her spite for the moment satisfied. She had managed to plant a seed of discord in Lucy’s inflammable brain. She hoped with all her heart that it had sprouted and would grow rapidly.