Turning mechanically toward the stairs Marjorie crashed squarely against a young woman who had just descended the last step. Both girls apologized first; took stock of each other afterward. Marjorie drew a quick breath. She was facing Louise Walker. Obeying an impulse she cried out:
“Oh, Miss Walker, I have been trying to see you for several days. Would you be willing to come upstairs to Miss Macy’s and my room? We have something to show you which is important to you.”
“I—certainly I will come.” Miss Walker’s intonation was remarkably gentle and friendly. “Will you lead the way? I am not often at Wayland Hall and know very little about it.” She motioned Marjorie to precede her up the stairs. “I had been calling on a sophomore, Miss Vinton.”
“She is such a clever girl,” Marjorie said admiringly. “We have had many interesting talks about chemistry experiments we have made.” Her winsome smile drew an answering smile from Miss Walker. The sophomore was wondering if Marjorie had heard any of the cutting remarks she had made about her and Robin Page, early in the fall, when Page and Dean had championed the cause of Augusta Forbes. She was astonished now to find Marjorie so friendly.
“For goodness sake!” In the act of nibbling a large three-cornered piece of peanut brittle Jerry let it fall to the rug at sight of Marjorie and her visitor. She bent to retrieve it, took an unintentional step forward and planted one foot firmly upon it. Such a disaster called for mirth which was quick in coming. Marjorie merrily seated the guest and offered her peanut brittle from a box. Jerry loudly mourned the loss of “the biggest, best bit of brittle in the brittle box,” as she gathered up the sticky fragments of it from the rug. She made short work of the task. She was eager to join the pair of girls on the other side of the room.
Marjorie kept the conversation centered upon impersonal topics until Jerry completed the trio. Then she began in her candid fashion: “Miss Walker, we hope you will not feel, after you have heard what I am going to tell you, that we have not been fair to you in not having told you before. Will you please bring the letters, Jerry?”
Jerry complied with alacrity. Meanwhile Marjorie had gone steadily on with the account of the receipt of the first letter, bearing Miss Walker’s signature. The latter sat listening in genuine mystification. She stared in bewilderment at the outrageous letter which Jerry placed in her hand.
“Why, this is dreadful!” she cried as she read it, her fair skin flooding with indignant red. “That’s not my writing! Why didn’t you come to me and ask me about it?”
“How could I?” Marjorie said rather sadly. She had expected the question. “You see, I didn’t know your handwriting. I didn’t know— Please let us not talk about that part of it. We were so glad when Jerry received the letter from you about the handkerchief. Then we knew you had not written that hateful letter.” She pointed the tip of a scornful finger at the forgery. “Since things have worked out so well, let’s be thankful, and friends.”
“I’d love to be,” Louise answered with sincerity. “First you must forgive me for being so disagreeable last fall. I’ve been sorry for quite a while, but there seemed no opportunity to tell you so. I understand Miss Forbes now, too. I like her, but I’m afraid she doesn’t like me; nor never will.”