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“Veronica,” repeated Mignon. “That is a queer name for a maid, isn’t it?”

“‘What’s in a name?’” quoted Miss Archer lightly. There was a faint touch of amusement in her quiet tones that nettled Mignon. She concluded that, as she never had liked Miss Archer, she now merely liked her a trifle less.

“As you are so busy, Miss Archer, we must not detain you long. I really ought to apologize for breaking in upon you before you are rested from your long journey, but I had something quite important to ask you. So I thought I had better not wait. This may seem like a very personal question, but——Have you engaged a secretary for this year?” Marjorie colored faintly at her own temerity.

“No.” An expression of annoyance leaped into Miss Archer’s fine eyes. “Miss Lansing, as you know, was graduated last June. That leaves her place vacant. I cannot tell you how much I have missed Marcia Arnold. She made an ideal secretary. As I have always selected my secretary from among those of the Sanford High School girls who are anxious to do extra work, I suppose I shall have to attend to it as soon as possible. Were you thinking of applying for the position, Marjorie?” she questioned humorously.

Marjorie laughed. “Oh, no; I am not clever enough. But I know a girl who is. She would like the position, too. I am speaking of Lucy Warner. She really needs the work, Miss Archer, and I am sure she could do it and keep up in her classes. She is so bright.”

“Lucy Warner. Ah, yes, I had not thought of her. She is a remarkably bright girl. I imagine she would suit me admirably. She seems extremely capable.” Miss Archer appeared signally pleased with the prospect of Lucy as her secretary. “What do you wish me to do, Marjorie? Shall I write her?”

“I shall be ever so glad if you will, Miss Archer.” Marjorie spoke as gratefully as though it were she who was the most interested party to the affair. “I am sure she will accept. Thank you for listening to my suggestion.”

After a little further exchange of conversation, Marjorie rose to make graceful farewell. Mignon followed suit, a trace of contempt lurking in her black eyes. She had confidently expected that their call would take on a purely social tone. As it was, Marjorie had held the floor, giving her no opportunity to make a favorable impression on Miss Archer. And all for that frumpy, green-eyed Lucy Warner! It was just like Marjorie Dean to interest herself in such dowdy persons.

“And is that what your wonderful business appointment was about?” she asked pettishly as the two girls strolled down the pebbled walk bordered on each side with clumps of sweet alyssum. “I can’t see why you should trouble yourself about a girl like Lucy Warner. She used to hate you. She told me so. I suppose the reason she turned around all of a sudden and began to be nice to you was because she thought you would use your influence with Miss Archer to get her that position. She knows you are Miss Archer’s pet.”

“I am not Miss Archer’s pet.” Marjorie’s voice quivered with vexation. “She likes ever so many other girls in Sanford High as well as she likes me.” Striving hard to regain her composure, she added, “Lucy hasn’t the least idea that I tried to get her the secretaryship. I know that at one time she didn’t like me. It was a misunderstanding. But it was cleared up long ago.”

“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.

“Of course I saw her. I have eyes,” reminded Jerry gruffly. “Pretty girl, isn’t she?” This last comment was a naughty inspiration on Jerry’s part. The French girl’s contemptuous tone informed her that the newest senior had already become a mark for ridicule in Mignon’s eyes. She, therefore, took a contrary stand.

“Pretty!” Mignon’s tones rose still higher. “That staring-eyed, white-faced creature! Your eyes can’t be very keen. She’s a servant, too; a servant.”

“You can’t expect me to see that,” retorted Jerry. “All the more credit to her if she is. A girl who has to work for her living, but is smart enough to walk into a strange school and into the senior class is good enough for anybody to know. You’re a snob, Mignon, and you ought to be ashamed to say such things.” Coolly turning her back on the scowling girl, Jerry busied herself with her locker. Privately she wondered how Mignon happened to know so much about the newcomer.

Mignon watched her resentfully, longing to say something particularly cutting, but not daring to do so. When it came to an argument, Jerry Macy was capable of more than holding her own. As the seniors were now beginning to arrive in numbers, she had no wish to be publicly worsted. She could not resist saying satirically, however, as Marjorie Dean passed her: “Did you see that servant girl of Miss Archer’s in our section this morning?”

“Servant girl?” chorused two or three bystanders, crowding closer to their informant. “What do you mean? Whom do you mean?”

Marjorie’s sweet face clouded at the intentional cruelty of Mignon’s speech. How could she exhibit such heartlessness toward one whom she hardly knew? “Are you referring to Veronica Browning?” she asked in a clear, decided voice. “I am ever so glad she is going to be in our class. I think she’s a dear.”

“Veronica Browning,” repeated Mignon, laughing. “I wonder how she came by such a high-sounding name. Most servants are satisfied with a common, ordinary one, like Jane or Maggie. It seems to me——”

A little flutter of dismay, which suddenly swept the group of seniors, checked Mignon’s caustic remarks. A gray-eyed girl had walked into the locker room just in time to get the full effect of them. Under heavy masses