CHAPTER XIV--AN UNREPENTANT SINNER

Having committed themselves to the unenviable duty of censorship, neither Marjorie nor Jerry had any intention of wavering in the performance of it. The following Monday they met and agreed to pay Mignon a call that evening. They also agreed not to announce to her beforehand their purposed visit to her. It would be wisest to hazard the chance of finding her at home.

Their hearts beat a trifle faster, however, when at eight o'clock that evening they proceeded up the wide stone walk leading to the La Salles' veranda. In just what fashion Mignon, were she at home, would receive the counsel they had decided must be imparted to her, was something which they could not foretell.

"Br-rr!" shivered Jerry as Marjorie pressed the electric bell. "I hope she isn't at home."

"I don't." Marjorie spoke firmly. "I'd rather see her to-night and have it over with."

The opening of the door by a maid cut short further conversation between them. She ushered them into the drawing room with the information that "Miss Mignon" was at home. Inviting them to be seated, she disappeared to acquaint the French girl with their arrival.

Hardly had they seated themselves when the sound of Mignon's voice raised in sharp question floated down to them from the head of the wide hall staircase. Followed the patter of light descending feet, announcing to them that the dread moment was approaching.

"Good evening." Mignon's black brows lifted themselves ironically as she beheld her unexpected callers. "This is really a surprise!" Her elfish eyes roved challengingly from one girl to the other.

"Good evening, Mignon." Marjorie's calm salutation betrayed nothing of her inner trepidation.

"How are you, Mignon?" was all Jerry said. She, too, had sensed hostility in her hostess' satirical exclamation.

"I was taking a look at my French lesson for to-morrow when I heard the door-bell. French, of course, is very easy for me. I need hardly to glance at a lesson before I know it." Mignon's sharp chin raised itself a trifle as she made this boast.

"Yes; you have the advantage of the rest of us," conceded Marjorie honestly. "French is quite hard for me. The poetry is so difficult to translate."

"Were you girls at the nursery this afternoon?" inquired Mignon suavely. She was wondering mightily what had occasioned their call.

"No. It was Muriel's and Irma's turn to go this afternoon. Jerry and I are to take ours on Friday. What afternoon are you to have, and which one of the girls is to go with you? Irma has the list of names. I haven't seen it," Marjorie added.

Mignon shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I was asked to be on duty Thursday afternoon. I didn't inquire who was to help me amuse those tiresome slum youngsters." She tossed her head with elaborate unconcern. A scornful smile played about her lips. "It really doesn't matter, though. I shall not be there. I am going out of town on Wednesday evening and shall not return until late Thursday night. I must tell Irma not to count on me this week."

An awkward silence followed this announcement. Jerry frowned but held her peace. Marjorie's brown eyes showed a faint sparkle of indignation. Mignon's slighting reference to the nursery children angered her. No trace of her displeasure lurked in her voice, however, as she said evenly: "I am willing to take your place on Thursday, Mignon."

"Suit yourself." Mignon's shoulders again went into ready play. "I imagine you girls will find that day nursery a white elephant. It will cost the club more time and money than it is worth. It will keep the Lookouts hustling to supply funds for it. The sum of money we now have in the treasury won't last long at the rate it is being spent."

"We have thought of a way to put more money in our treasury," was Marjorie's quiet assurance.

Jerry's round blue eyes focussed themselves upon her friend, amazement in their depths. Surely Marjorie did not intend to put Mignon in possession of the Campfire project before the rest of the Lookouts knew it? Marjorie, however, had been visited by a swift flash of inspiration. In view of the prospective Campfire, Mignon might receive the rebuke about to be delivered in a more chastened spirit than she would otherwise exhibit. She was not likely to cut off her nose to spite her face.

"What do you mean?" Alert interest leaped into Mignon's face. "What is your new plan?"

Marjorie outlined briefly the money-making scheme which Hal Macy had conceived.

"And will there be a show every night?"

"Yes; Laurie Armitage is going to arrange a little revue."

"Is he really!" Mignon leaned forward, an eager figure of anticipation. "Do you know who is to take part in it?"

"Nothing definite has been decided yet." Marjorie could scarcely repress a smile. Mignon's question patently indicated what was in her mind.

"I wonder if he will ask----" Tardily realizing that she was betraying undue eagerness, Mignon checked herself.

She had said enough, however, to give Marjorie the desired opportunity. "I think Laurie ought to ask you to take part in his revue, Mignon. You sang beautifully in the Rebellious Princess. I suppose he would rather choose the girls for it from among the Lookouts. But he said last night that he was going to be very sure that those he asked to help him would work together without friction."

"Are you accusing me of being a trouble-maker?" Mignon sprang to her feet, her black eyes snapping with anger. "I want you to understand----"

"Please allow me to go on with what I was about to say," came the dignified interruption.

"I will not----" began Mignon. Her furious tone changing to one of sullenness, she muttered, "Well, say it."

"I know you won't like to hear this, but it must be said. Laurie intends to ask Veronica Browning to take part in the revue. She dances very cleverly and is sure to please the audience. I know that you don't like Veronica, simply because she is poor," Marjorie went on bravely. "I know, too, that you have said unkind things about her to others. I have learned that you circulated the report that she was paid to come to Jerry's Hallowe'en party and dance. This was not the case. She offered to dance at Jerry's of her own free will. She did not remain for the party, simply because she did not wish to do so. If you take part in the revue and Veronica agrees to be in it, too, then you will have to treat her with courtesy and make no slighting remarks about her behind her back. Should you do so, and were Laurie to hear of it, he would be very angry."

"That for your servant girl!" Mignon snapped derisive fingers. "I shall say whatever I please to her or about her."

"Then you are not a true Lookout," condemned Marjorie sternly. "Every time you make an unkind remark about Veronica or in fact anyone else, you are breaking the Golden Rule. We all promised to live up to it. As an officer of the club, you are especially bound to do so. I came here to-night on purpose to remind you of that promise. It is not fair in you to lay the Lookouts open to censure. You are not playing fairly with yourself, either."

"Thank you for your kind consideration of me," retorted Mignon in shrill, furious tones. "I know just how sincere it is."

"It is sincere." Marjorie's low, harmonious accents contrasted sharply with Mignon's high-pitched tones. "It has been hard for me to tell you these things. I have done so because I am trying to warn you before it is too late. Aside from Jerry and me there are only two other girls in the club who would stand by you if you got into trouble through your own mischief-making. The others would simply demand your resignation."

"You needn't count on me to stand by you, Mignon, if you keep up your back-biting about Veronica," flashed Jerry. She had reached the limit of silence. "I'd have asked you to resign before this if it hadn't been for Marjorie. You make me tired. Why can't you let well enough alone? You're an officer in the Lookouts. If you behave yourself you can shine in the revue. You'll gain more by keeping your opinions of Veronica to yourself."

Astonishment at this blunt advice tied Mignon's tongue for an instant. Secretly she had always been afraid of plain-spoken Jerry Macy. The stout girl had the disconcerting faculty of coming to the point with a vengeance. Her arguments were too clinching to be easily refuted. Marjorie's earnest speech had had small effect upon Mignon. Jerry had outlined her shaky position in a few brusque words, the truth of which struck home.

Having met her match, Mignon resorted to the world-old feminine artifice. Flinging herself down on a brocade settee she burst into tears. They were not tears of remorse; merely an outward expression of baffled rage. Justly accused, she was overcome by the knowledge of her own inability to clear herself.

Jerry eyed her with patent disgust. "Crocodile tears," was her uncharitable thought. Marjorie, on the contrary, was moved to pity. Rising, she crossed the room to where Mignon sat huddled on the settee, her face hidden in her hands. Laying a gentle hand on the bowed shoulders, Marjorie said soothingly: "Don't cry, Mignon. Please try to think of Jerry and me as your friends. We have your interests at heart as well as Veronica's. I am sure that if you will try to know her, you will find her a delightful girl. No one knows that Jerry and I intended to speak to you about her. No one will ever know. All I am asking you to do is to give both yourself and Veronica a fair chance."

Mignon answered only with a fresh burst of sobs. This time they were not genuine. Under pretence of weeping, her active mind was already at work, endeavoring to decide what she had best do. To resign from the club would profit her nothing. Once out of it, she would not only miss all the good times in prospect, but also find herself completely out of touch with the members. Far from accepting Marjorie's rebuke in the spirit in which it had been offered, she now yearned for revenge upon this priggish, goody-goody who had dared to remind her of her shortcomings. Yet how could she retaliate if she deliberately cut herself off from her intended victim? Taking a leaf from Rowena's book she resolved to bring craft to her aid. She would pretend to fall in with Marjorie's scheme of conduct. Afterward----

Raising her head with a jerk she said with well-simulated meekness: "I believe you are right, Marjorie. Please give me another chance to show you that I can be a true Lookout." With an air of deep penitence she held out her hand to Marjorie.

"I am glad you can say that, Mignon." Marjorie's hand went out instantly. "Now let us forget all about the disagreeable part. It has been hard for all of us. There is just one thing more I'd like to say. If after you have tried to like Veronica you find that you can't, then no one will be to blame. We cannot expect others always to see our friends as we see them. You have a perfect right to like or dislike anyone you please. All I ask is----"

"I _will_ try to like her for your sake, Marjorie," Mignon interrupted with deceitful sweetness. Immediately changing the subject, she began to regale Marjorie with an account of a near accident she had had that day while driving her runabout.

"I think we'd better go," Jerry announced sharply. She had had quite enough of Mignon and was not impressed by the erring one's miraculous repentance. She doubted its sincerity, and she could hardly refrain from saying so. She had sat silent and uncompromising during the scene, making no move toward offering a rehabilitating hand. Mignon's swift change of the subject disgusted her even more. She understood the reason for it if Marjorie did not.

Mignon sent a covert glance toward this stony-faced third party whom she feared. She knew that Jerry was quite out of sympathy with her. She longed to say something particularly cutting to the stout girl but caution warned her to silence.

"Yes, we must go." Marjorie still stood beside the settee that held Mignon. Now she turned to the latter who had made no move to rise and again held out her hand. "Good night, Mignon," she said. "Don't forget the club meeting to-morrow evening."

Reluctantly Mignon rose to perform the parting civilities which courtesy demanded.

"Good night, Mignon." Jerry was already half way to the door when she spoke.

"Good night." Mignon cast a spiteful look toward the stout girl. Following her callers into the hall, she saw them to the door with little enthusiasm. She was longing for them to go and could scarcely forbear slamming the unoffending portal in their faces. Closing it behind them with spiteful force, she clenched her hands in an excess of passionate fury. "Idiots!" she raged. "How dared they come here and humiliate me? They'll be sorry! Just wait!"

Half way down the walk the reform committee heard the slam of the door.

"Hear that?" asked Jerry savagely. "That's the real Mignon. Look out for her. You made a mistake when you said what you did about her being free to like or dislike Ronny. You gave her a chance to hit back."

"But I said afterward that all I asked of her was----" Marjorie stopped. "Why, Jerry, I _didn't_ say the most important part of my sentence. Mignon interrupted me. Then she began talking about her runabout and I didn't finish it. I thought she changed the subject because she was dreadfully embarrassed."

"Of course, she interrupted you." Jerry grew increasingly scornful. "She knew you'd said just enough to be useful to her. She hasn't any intention of trying to like Ronny. She'll treat her just the same as ever. If you say anything about it to her again, she will laugh and quote your own words to you. We might better have stayed at home for all the good we've done."

"Don't borrow trouble, Jeremiah." Marjorie linked an affectionate arm in Jerry's. "I think we've done a little good to-night. Mignon will be careful what she says or does for a while. She doesn't care to resign from the club, else she would have said so to-night. She wants to be in the revue, too. Telling her what Laurie said sounded rather like threatening her, but I had to do it."

"There is no cure for Mignon," stated Jerry shortly, "and this is the last time I'll help play doctor. There's just one consolation, though. Give her enough rope and she'll hang herself."