"Well, I thought I would invite Mignon to my party, the one you said I could give for Mary. I'd like to have it next Friday night. Friday's the best time. We can all sleep a little later the next morning, you know."
"Very well, you may," assented Mrs. Dean. "Does Mary know of the contemplated reform?"
"No. You see I hated to say much to her about Mignon, because it wouldn't be very nice to discredit someone you were trying to help. Don't you agree with me?"
"I suppose I must. But what of Constance?"
"That's the part that bothers me," was Marjorie's troubled reply. "I'm going to write her all about it. I know she'll be with us. She's too splendid to hold spite. I think it would be all right to invite Mignon to my party, at any rate. But there's just one thing about it, Captain, if Connie objects, then the reform will have to go on without me. You understand the way I feel, don't you?"
"Yes. I believe you owe it to Constance to respect her wishes. She was the chief sufferer at Mignon's hands."
The confidential talk came to a sudden end with the ringing of the doorbell.
"It's Mary." Marjorie sprang to her feet. "I'll let her in."
Hurrying to the door, Marjorie opened it to admit Mary Raymond. She entered with an air of sulkiness that brought dread to Marjorie's heart.
"Oh, Mary, where were you?" she asked, trying to appear ignorant of her chum's forbidding aspect.