"I'm a sophomore all right enough," said Mary grimly. "I told her what Miss Archer said, and after that she treated me more civilly. Such a teacher is a disgrace to a school. Why is she so bitter against you, Marjorie?" Marjorie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. She has always acted like that toward me. It's just a natural dislike, I suppose. Sometimes, after a teacher has taught school a great many years, she takes sudden likes and dislikes. I've been in her black books since my very first day in Sanford High." "Poor old Lieutenant." Mary patted Marjorie's hand with sympathetic affection. "Oh, it doesn't matter. I don't really care much. There are so many nice teachers here who _do_ like me that I'm not going to worry over Miss Merton. Come along." She linked her arm in Mary's. "The girls will be waiting for us outside. We are all going down to Sargent's for ice cream. Then we'll go home and report to Captain. After luncheon, I think we had better walk over to Gray Gables. I am afraid Connie or, perhaps, little Charlie is sick. You know Connie promised us, when we were there on Friday, that she'd see us at school." Mary's face clouded. "I--I think I won't go to Gray Gables with you. I must write to mother. Besides, you and Constance may wish to be by yourselves." Marjorie's brown eyes opened wide. "Why should we?" she asked. "You know you are always first with me. I haven't any secrets from you." Mary's face brightened. Perhaps she had been too hasty in her conclusions. "I wish you would tell me all about yourself and Constance," she said slowly. "You promised you would." "Well, I will," began Marjorie. Then she paused and flushed slightly. It had suddenly come to her that perhaps Constance would not care to have Mary know of the clouds of suspicion that had hung so heavily over her freshman year. "I'd love to tell you about it now, Mary, but I think I had better ask Constance first if she is willing for me to do so. You see, it concerns her more than me. I am almost sure she wouldn't mind, but I'd rather be perfectly fair and ask her first. You know Captain and General have always said to us, 'Never break a confidence.'" A hurt look crept into Mary's face. "Oh, never mind," she managed to say with a brave assumption of indifference. "I don't wish to know about it if you don't care to tell me." "But I _do_ care to tell you, and I will if Connie says I may," assured Marjorie earnestly. Mary had no time for further remark. They had reached the double entrance doors to the building and were hailed by a crowd of girls at the foot of the steps. "Oh, Connie," Marjorie Dean cried out delightedly. She had spied her friend among them. Constance ran forward to meet Marjorie and Mary. "I couldn't come before. I've been to the train. Father is here. He's going to be at home for two days. And what do you think he wishes me to do?" "You are not going away with him?" asked Marjorie in sudden alarm.