“What was it about?” queried Mignon, always eager for a bit of gossip to retail at her pleasure. “You must tell me.”
“It lies between Lucy and me. I have never told anyone about it. I intend never to tell anyone.”
“Oh, I don’t care to know.” Mignon tossed her head. “I’m sorry now that I bothered myself to call on Miss Archer. I really shouldn’t have taken the time. I’ll have to drive fast to make up for it.”
“Don’t let me trouble you,” assured Marjorie evenly. “I won’t be going back the way we came. I intend to walk on to Gray Gables.” By this time they had passed through the gateway to the runabout.
“As you please,” returned Mignon indifferently. “Come over and see me before school opens, if you have time. Better telephone beforehand, though, else I may not be at home when you call.”
“Thank you.” Not forgetting courtesy, Marjorie added, “The same applies to you in regard to me.”
“Thank you. Good-bye,” returned Mignon coolly.
“Good-bye.” Marjorie turned from the French girl to begin her walk to Gray Gables. “It’s no use,” she told herself soberly. “We are both pretending to be friendly when really we can never be friends. I ought to feel awfully cross with Mignon. Somehow I feel sorry for her, just as I’ve always felt toward her. But for her father’s sake, he’s such a splendid man, I’m going to keep on trying. Poor Mignon. It seems as though she must have started wrong when she was a baby and can never get set right. She may, perhaps, some day, but I’m afraid that some day is a long way off.”
CHAPTER II—A HUMBLE SENIOR
“Did you see that latest addition to the senior class?” Mignon La Salle’s voice rose in profound disgust as she hurled the question at Jerry Macy, who had entered the senior locker room directly behind her.