It was on a sunny afternoon in late March, however, before Mary was rudely jolted into the same conclusion. Mignon La Salle was also possessed of "the seeing eye." Mary was no longer her devoted satellite, although she still kept up an indifferent kind of friendship with the French girl. Mignon soon divined the cause of her lagging allegiance. "You are a little idiot, Mary Raymond, to follow Marjorie Dean about as you do. She doesn't care a snap for you. She may treat you nicely, but that's as far as it goes. She cares more for that miserable Stevens girl in a minute than she cares for _you_ in a whole year. Why can't you let her alone and chum with some one who appreciates you." "I don't follow Marjorie about," contested Mary hotly. "I never go anywhere with her unless she asks me." "She merely does that through courtesy," shrugged Mignon. "I suppose she thinks it her duty. She's a prig and I despise her." Mary's face flamed at the obnoxious word "duty." In a flash her mind reviewed all that had passed since that memorable Christmas day. Her cheeks grew hotter at the brutal truth of Mignon's words. "If you think I care anything about her, you have made a mistake," she retorted, stung to untruthfulness by the taunt. "I'll soon prove to you that I don't." "Stop running around with her and her wonderful friends and I'll believe you," sneered Mignon. "I will, if only to show you that I don't care," flung back the angry girl. "That's the way to talk," approved Mignon. She had kept but few friends among the sophomores since that fatal practice game and she did not intend to lose Mary from her diminished circle. Besides, she was certain that the Deans, one and all, did not approve of Mary's friendship with her and it accorded her supreme pleasure to annoy them. "I'm going to give a fancy dress party two weeks from Friday night," she went on, with an abrupt change of subject. "Nearly all the girls I'm intending to invite are juniors and seniors. We'll have a glorious time. I don't have to strip our living room of furniture for a place to dance. I have a _real_ ballroom in my home. I'll send you an invitation in a day or two."