Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman
CHAPTER II
GOOD-BYE, MARJORIE DEAN
"Whatever you do, don't laugh, or speak above a whisper, or fall up thesteps, or do anything else that will give us away before we're ready,"lectured Clark Grayson to the little crowd of happy-faced boys and girlswho were gathered round him on the corner above Marjorie Dean's home."We'd better advance by fives. Seldon, you go with the first lot. When Igive the signal, this way," Clark puckered his lips and emitted a softwhistle, "ring the bell."
"Right-o," softly retorted three or four boyish voices.
Clark rapidly divided his little squad of thirty into fives, and movedtoward the house with the first division. Two minutes later the nextfive conspirators began to move, and in an incredibly short space oftime the surprise party was overflowing the Dean veranda and frontsteps. The boy who had been appointed bell ringer pressed his fingerfirmly against the electric bell. There came the sound of a quickfootstep, then Marjorie herself opened the door, to be greeted with amerry shout of "Surprise! Surprise!"
"Why--what--who!" she gasped.
"Just exactly," agreed Clark Grayson. "'Why--what--who'--and enoughothers to make thirty. Of course, if you don't want us----"
"Stop teasing me, Clark, until I get over my surprise, at least," beggedMarjorie. "No, I never suspected a single thing," she said, in answer toEthel Duval's question. "Here are mother and father. They know moreabout all this than they'll say. They made me believe they were going toa party."
"And so we are," declared her father, as he and Mrs. Dean came forwardto welcome their young guests, with the cordiality and graciousness forwhich they were noted among Marjorie's friends.
"Come this way, girls," invited Marjorie's mother, who, in an eveningfrock of white silk, looked almost as young as the bevy of pretty girlsthat followed her. "Mr. Dean will look after you, boys."
Once she had helped her mother usher the girls into the upstairssleeping room set aside for their use, Marjorie lost no time in slippingover to the dressing table where Mary stood, patting her fluffy hair andlamenting because it would not stay smooth.
"You dear thing," whispered Marjorie, slipping her arm about her chum."I'll forgive you for not telling me where you were going. I wasterribly hurt for a minute, though. You know we've never had secretsfrom each other."
"And we never will," declared Mary, firmly. "Promise me, Marjorie, thatyou'll always tell me things; that is, when they're not someone else'ssecrets."
"I will," promised Marjorie, solemnly. "We'll write our secrets to eachother instead of telling them. Now I must leave you for a minute and seeif everyone is having a good time. We'll have another comfy old talklater."
To Mary Raymond fell the altogether agreeable task of keeping Marjorieaway from the dining-room, where Mrs. Dean, Ethel Duval and two of herclassmates busied themselves with the decorating of the two long tables.By ten o'clock all was ready for the guests. In the middle of eachtable, rising from a centerpiece of ferns, was a green silk pennant,bearing the figures 19-- embroidered in scarlet. The staffs of the twopennants were wound with green and scarlet ribazine which extended inlong streamers to each place, and was tied to dainty hand-paintedpennant-shaped cards, on which appeared the names of the guests. Laidbeside the place cards were funny little favors, which had beengleefully chosen with a sly view toward exploiting every one's pethobby, while at either end of each table were tall vases of red roses,which seemed to nod their fragrant approval of the merry-making.
"It's quite perfect, isn't it?" sighed Ethel, with deep satisfaction,gently touching one of the red roses. "The very nicest part of it all isthat you've been just as enthusiastic as we over the party." She turnedaffectionate eyes upon Mrs. Dean.
"It could hardly be otherwise, my dear," returned Mrs. Dean. "Remember,it is for my little girl that you have planned all this happiness.Nothing can please me more than the thought that Marjorie has so manyfriends. I only hope she will be equally fortunate in her new home,though, I am sure, she will never forget her Franklin High Schoolchums."
"We won't give her that chance," nodded Ethel, emphatically. "There, Ithink we are ready. Clark wants to be your partner, Mrs. Dean, andSeldon is to escort Marjorie to her place. We aren't going to give herthe pin until we are ready to drink the toasts. Robert Barrett is to betoastmaster. Will you go first and announce supper?"
There was a buzz of delight and admiration from the guests, as headed byMarjorie and Seldon, the little procession marched into the dining-room.For a moment the very sight of the gayly decked table with its weight ofgoodies and wonderful red roses caused Marjorie's brown eyes to blur.Then, as Seldon bowed her to the head of one of the tables, she winkedback her tears, and nodding gayly to the eager faces turned toward herand said with her prettiest smile: "It's the very nicest surprise thatever happened to me, and I hope you will all have a perfectly splendidtime to-night."
"Three cheers for Marjorie Dean! May we give them, Mrs. Dean?" calledRobert Barrett.
Mrs. Dean's smiling assent was lost in the volume of sound that went upfrom thirty lusty young throats.
"Now, Franklin High," proposed Mary Hammond, and the Franklin yell wasgiven by the girls. The boys, who were nearly all students at the LaFayette High School, just around the corner from Franklin, respondedwith their yell, and the merry little company began hunting their placesand seating themselves at the tables.
Marjorie was far too much excited to eat. Her glances strayedcontinually down the long tables to the cheery faces of her schoolmates.It seemed almost too wonderful that her friends should care so muchabout her.
"Marjorie Dean, stop dreaming and eat your supper," commanded Mary, whohad been covertly watching her friend. "Clark, you are sitting next toher. Make her eat her chicken salad. It's perfectly delicious."
"Will you eat your salad or must I exercise my stern authority?" beganClark, drawing down his face until he exactly resembled a certainroundly disliked teacher of mathematics in the boys' high school. Therewas a laugh of recognition from the boys sitting nearest to Clark. Hecontinued to eye Marjorie severely.
"Of course, I'm going to eat my salad," declared Marjorie, stoutly. "Youmust give me time, though. I'm still too surprised to be hungry."
But the greatest surprise was still in store for her. When everyone hadfinished eating, Robert Barrett began his duties as toastmaster. EthelDuval came first with "What Friendships Mean to a Schoolgirl," andSeldon Ames followed with a ridiculously funny little toast to "The HighSchool Fellows." Then Mr. and Mrs. Dean were toasted, and Lillian Hale,a next-door neighbor and the only upper-class girl invited, gave solemncounsel and advice to the "freshman babies."
As Marjorie's dearest friend, to Mary had been accorded the honor ofgiving the farewell toast, "Aufwiedersehen," and the presentation of thepin. Mary's clear voice trembled slightly as she began the little speechwhich she had composed and learned for the occasion. Then her falteringtones gathered strength, and before she realized that she was actuallymaking a speech, she had reached the most important part of it and wassaying, "We wish you to keep and wear this remembrance of our good willthroughout your school life in Sanford. We hope you will make newfriends, and we ask only that you won't forget the old."
"I can't begin to tell you how much I thank you all," Marjorieresponded, her tones not quite steady, her face lighted with a fondpride that lay very near to tears. "I shall love my butterfly all mylife, and never forget that you gave it to me. I am going to call it mytalisman, and I am sure it will bring me good luck."
But neither the givers nor Marjorie Dean could possibly guess that, inthe days to come, the beautiful golden butterfly was to prove anythingbut a talisman to the popular little freshman.