The boy burst out laughing, and straightway repeated the objectionable word. Marjory wheeled round in a moment. "Take that!" she said, delivering a blow with her fist which sent Master Alan Morison flying. He lost his balance and fell to the ground. He was up again in a moment, blood flowing from a slight cut in his forehead. Marjory, aghast at what she had done, stood rooted to the spot, expecting him to return the attack; but, to her surprise, he looked at her admiringly and said, "I say, you know, that was jolly good. I never thought a girl could hit like that. I couldn't have done it better myself, and you're only thirteen. I was fourteen last birthday."
Marjory began, "I'm so sorry," but Alan stopped her. "I tell you it was jolly good. I'm glad you can hit; you don't seem so much like a girl.—I say," turning to Blanche and blushing crimson under his freckles, "it was beastly of me to call names after you." The boy shifted uneasily from one foot to the other as he made his apology.
"Yes, it was rather," replied Blanche, "but it isn't the first time boys have done it. I suppose my hair is carroty," ruefully, "but I think it is rather mean to tease me about a thing I can't help."
"I say, I'm awfully sorry," said Alan, more shamefaced than ever.
"Never mind," said Blanche graciously; "I'll forgive you this once. Come along; it's cold standing here apologizing and forgiving." And with a merry laugh she started on.
Marjory, ashamed of her part in the quarrel, asked Alan if his forehead hurt.
"No, it's nothing but a scratch, but I tell you," enthusiastically, "it was a splendid hit. Any fellow would have done the same if another chap had ragged his friend. I say," he continued bashfully, "would you two chum up with me? It's beastly dull for me at home now."
"Where's Herbert?" asked Marjory.
"Oh, he's at home, but he's no good to me now," kicking a stone with his foot, to the great satisfaction of the dogs; and then he continued, "Since he went into the sixth, he thinks of nothing but the cut of his coats and the shape of his collars, and whether girls think he's better-looking than the other fellows. It's positively sickening. And now we're at home he hangs about father, and won't do anything with me. He called me a 'kid' this morning, young silly ass that he is." Another stone went flying. "But look here," in a different tone and turning to Marjory; "you're not a bit like a girl if you can hit like that, and I should be awfully obliged to you if you would chum up with me. We could have jolly fun if you would."
"All right," said Marjory, sorry for any one who was lonely; "we'll be friends—that is, if Blanche wants to too; we always do everything together." And she looked at her friend.