"I know how you girls feel about this," she said slowly. "I felt the same way until after I had written my resignation. While I was writing I kept hoping that the team would lose and be sorry they had put someone else in my place. Then it just came to me all of a sudden that a good soldier wouldn't be a traitor to his country even if he were reduced in rank or had something happen unpleasant to him in his camp." She stopped and looked embarrassed. She had forgotten that the girls could not possibly know what she meant. She had never told any one in Sanford High School about the pretty soldier play which she and Mary had carried on for so long. It was one of the little intimate details of her life which she preferred to keep to herself. Should she explain? Jerry's impatient retort made it unnecessary. "The only traitor I know anything about is Mignon," she flung back, failing to grasp the significance of Marjorie's comparison. Constance, however, had flashed a curious glance at her friend, saying nothing. When Geraldine had nodded good-bye at her street, and the two were alone, she asked: "What did you mean by comparing yourself to a soldier, Marjorie?" Marjorie smiled. "I think I'd better tell you all about it. I've never told anyone else." "What a splendid game," mused Constance, half to herself, when Marjorie had finished. "Do you--would you--could I be a soldier, too, Marjorie? It would help me. You don't know. There are so many things." The wistful appeal touched Marjorie. "Of course you can," she assured. "You'd better come to my house to luncheon to-morrow. You can join the army then and go to the game with me." "I'm not going to the game." The look of expectancy died out of Constance's face. "You can't be a soldier if you balk at the first disagreeable thing that comes along," reminded Marjorie, slipping her arm through that of her friend. Constance walked a few steps in stolid silence. She could not make up her mind to watch the playing of the girls whom she felt she hated, even to please Marjorie. It was not until they were about to separate that Marjorie said quietly. "Shall I tell mother you are coming?" and Constance forced herself to reply shortly, "I'll come."