"What are you going to do first in the way of reform, Lieutenant?" she inquired brightly. "Well, I thought I would invite Mignon to my party, the one you said I could give for Mary. I'd like to have it next Friday night. Friday's the best time. We can all sleep a little later the next morning, you know." "Very well, you may," assented Mrs. Dean. "Does Mary know of the contemplated reform?" "No. You see I hated to say much to her about Mignon, because it wouldn't be very nice to discredit someone you were trying to help. Don't you agree with me?" "I suppose I must. But what of Constance?" "That's the part that bothers me," was Marjorie's troubled reply. "I'm going to write her all about it. I know she'll be with us. She's too splendid to hold spite. I think it would be all right to invite Mignon to my party, at any rate. But there's just one thing about it, Captain, if Connie objects, then the reform will have to go on without me. You understand the way I feel, don't you?" "Yes. I believe you owe it to Constance to respect her wishes. She was the chief sufferer at Mignon's hands." The confidential talk came to a sudden end with the ringing of the doorbell. "It's Mary." Marjorie sprang to her feet. "I'll let her in." Hurrying to the door, Marjorie opened it to admit Mary Raymond. She entered with an air of sulkiness that brought dread to Marjorie's heart. "Oh, Mary, where were you?" she asked, trying to appear ignorant of her chum's forbidding aspect. "I was with Mignon La Salle," returned Mary briefly. "Will you come upstairs with me, please?" "I'd love to, Lieutenant Raymond. Thank you for your kind invitation." Marjorie assumed a gaiety she did not feel. Without further remark Mary stolidly mounted the stairs. Marjorie followed her in a distinctly worried state of mind. The quarrel was going to begin over again. She was sure of that. Mary stalked past the half-open door of Marjorie's room and paused before her own. "I'd rather talk to you in _my_ room, if you please," she said distantly. "All right," agreed Marjorie, with ready cheerfulness. She intended to go on ignoring her chum's hostile attitude until she was forced to do otherwise. Mary closed the door behind them and faced Marjorie with compressed lips. The latter met her offended gaze with steady eyes. "I heard you and your friends making fun of Miss La Salle this afternoon, and I am going to say right here that I think you were all extremely unkind. She heard you, too. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Marjorie Dean!" "Why, I don't remember making fun of Mignon!" exclaimed Marjorie. "What do you mean?" "Then your memory is very short," sneered Mary. "But I might have expected you to deny it."