The opportunity to hold a heart-to-heart talk with Lucy was something for which Mignon had been vainly watching ever since the Hallowe’en party. Due to Marjorie Dean’s discreet counsel, Lucy had not given the French girl the slightest conversational opening. She had surrounded herself with a wall of icy reserve which Mignon had found impregnable. She was, therefore, secretly jubilant over the unexpected manner in which Fortune had favored her. It was late Friday evening when Irma had informed her of it and Lucy had already gone home. Irma had explained to Mignon that it was really Jerry’s turn to go to the nursery, but owing to her many duties at the Campfire she had asked for a substitute.
This accorded even better with Mignon’s plans. There was every possibility that Lucy would know nothing of the substitution until it would be too late to protest against it. Jerry, herself, was yet to be reckoned with, however. Irma would undoubtedly inform Jerry that she, Mignon, was to take her place. If Jerry took the trouble to inquire who was to accompany Mignon she would promptly veto Lucy’s going. Yet there was a fighting chance that busy Jerry might forget to ask this question. Mignon hoped that she would. She also decided, that she would not put in an appearance at the Armory on Saturday before going to the nursery. She would telephone Irma in the morning that she could not go there before night, but would be on hand at the nursery for her detail.
There are times when Fortune apparently leans kindly toward the unworthy. In the long run, however, she generally deserts these wrong-doers, leaving them to flounder miserably in the meshes of the nets they have heartlessly set for others. For the time being, at least, she had chosen to favor Mignon. Owing to a number of important letters Lucy Warner had promised to write for Miss Archer, she had also arranged to be away from the Armory until Saturday evening. She had planned to go directly from the office to the day nursery, where she confidently expected Jerry to meet her.
As for Jerry, she had thankfully received Irma’s promise to supply a substitute and inquired no further into the matter. Had Marjorie or Constance known of the arrangement Irma had innocently made, it would have been changed. Caught up in the whirl of the Campfire, neither of them remembered to question Irma regarding who was to do duty at the nursery on Saturday. Thus for Mignon the field was miraculously cleared of impediments.
When, at four o’clock, Lucy entered the playroom of the nursery, her amazement can be better imagined than described. Instead of seeing good-natured Jerry Macy, her displeased eyes rested on Mignon La Salle. Bored indifference written on her sharp features, the French girl lounged in a chair in a corner of the playroom, apparently with no intent toward making herself useful. Strangely enough she was now the only person in the room.
“Hello, Lucy,” she drawled. “You don’t seem pleased to see me.”
“I’m not,” snapped Lucy. “Where is Jerry Macy? She is to be on duty with me this afternoon.”
Mignon merely shrugged her shoulders by way of an answer.
“Where is she?” repeated Lucy, her brows knitting in their ready scowl.
“She won’t be here. Irma asked me to take her place. Any objections?”