"I suppose you girls know that our dear Mignon has designs on the Princess," announced Jerry Macy, with the elaborate carelessness of one who gives forth important news as the commonest every-day matter. "Mignon!" exclaimed Marjorie Dean in amazement. "I never even knew she could sing." "She thinks she can," shrugged Muriel Harding. "Goodness knows she ought to. She has studied for ages. I'm surprised to hear that she is going to enter the try-out, considering it's Laurie's operetta. You know just how much he likes her. She knows, too." "Who told you, Jerry?" quizzed Susan Atwell. "The way you gather news is positively marvelous. Was it big brother Hal?" "No, he doesn't know it. If I told him, he'd tell Laurie and Laurie would promptly have a spasm. One of the girls in the senior class mentioned it to me." "Mignon really sings well," put in Irma. "Don't you remember the time she sang at Muriel's party, two years ago? She has been studying ever since. She must have improved a good deal since then." "Oh, I've heard her sing more than once," said Jerry Macy, "but I don't like her voice. It's--well, it isn't sweet and sympathetic." "Neither is she," put in Susan with her customary giggle. "Wait until Connie sings at the try-out. Then someone can gently lead Mignon to a back seat," predicted Jerry. "It would give me a good deal of pleasure to be that 'someone.'" "I don't think I shall enter the try-out," remarked Constance, flushing. "Why not?" was the questioning chorus. "Oh, I don't know, only I just don't care to. If I do, someone might say that I went into it because----" She hesitated, and the flush on her cheeks deepened. "Because you expected Laurie to choose you, you mean," finished Jerry. "Yes; that is what I meant," admitted Constance. "Of course, I know there are other girls who are better singers than I, and that I couldn't possibly be chosen. Still, I'd rather not go into it at all, unless I could just be in the chorus." "You are a goose; a nice, dear goose, but a goose, just the same," was Jerry's plain sentiment. "Connie Stevens, if you don't try for that part, I'll never speak to you again," threatened Muriel. "I'll disown you," added Susan in mock menace. "Connie," Marjorie's voice vibrated with sudden energy, "I think you _ought_ to try for the Princess. I am almost sure no other girl in Sanford High can sing so beautifully. Then there is Laurie. He has always been nice to you. It would hurt his feelings dreadfully if you didn't try for a part in his operetta. Besides, I know it sounds hateful, but I can't help saying that I'd be glad to see you take the Princess away from Mignon. That is, if she really stands a good chance of winning it. I suppose that is what Miss Archer would call 'an ignoble sentiment,' but I mean it, just the same." Marjorie glanced half defiantly around the bright-eyed circle. They were now in Sargent's, seated about their favorite table.