“You are a very forgiving little girl.” Miss Archer eyed the pleader in a whimsical fashion. “There is a great deal in your view of the matter, too. It is a question of one girl’s parents against many, however. So far as I can remember this is the first case in the history of the school that warranted dismissal. As you have been the chief sufferer in this tangle, your plea for clemency should be respected. It shall be mentioned to the members of the Board of Education. That is all I can promise now. Personally, as _you_ are great-spirited enough to plead for her, I am willing to do my part. But only on your account. I doubt the advisability of allowing her to go on with her examinations. However, 'forewarned is forearmed.' Should she be permitted to enter the school, I shall keep a watchful eye on her.”
Real admiration of Marjorie’s readiness to help one who had treated her so shabbily caused the principal to speak as confidentially to her pupil as she might have to a member of the Board. Marjorie, as well as her mother, was aware of this. Yet far from being elated at the mark of confidence, the pretty junior bore her honors almost humbly. She merely thanked Miss Archer in the sweet, gracious fashion that set her apart from all other girls with whom the principal had come in contact during her long service on the field of education.
Almost immediately afterward the Deans said farewell and departed happily to convey the good news to their somewhat impatient chauffeur, who sat in the automobile pondering whimsically on the length and breadth of women’s chats. Long after they had gone, Marjorie’s winsome, selfless personality haunted the busy principal. To be truly great one must be truly good was her inner reflection. Remembering past circumstances in which Marjorie had figured ever as a force for good, she marveled that she could have doubted her. And as a vision of the girl’s lovely face, animated by the light from within, rose before her she mentally prophesied that Marjorie Dean was destined one day to reach the heights.
“Where were you yesterday afternoon?” demanded Jerry Macy, as Marjorie walked into the locker room at the close of the morning session.
Marjorie considered for a moment. Should she tell Jerry or should she not? She decided in the negative. “I was at home a part of the afternoon.”