Part 27 (1/2)
Awake with dawn, Marjorie had slipped on a soft, pink negligee and curled herself up on her window seat for a quiet little session with herself. A pensive wistfulness lay in her brown eyes as she gazed dreamily out at the beauty of the sunlit morning. Her mind harked back to her first days at Sanford High School. Again she saw herself a timid outlander, entering the great study hall for the first time. It seemed ages ago. How quickly her four years at high school had sped! There had certainly been plenty of vicissitudes. Compared to the joys that had been hers, they paled to insignificance. She marveled that she should have been so abundantly blessed. Face to face with the end of her course, she could only regret that she had not done more to deserve these benefits. Untouched by false pride or vanity, she could not know how great a power for good she had been. Very humbly she bowed her head in a silent prayer of thankfulness to the Divine Source from whence all blessings flowed.
At breakfast, however, this retrospective mood was temporarily banished by her General's teasing sallies. Later, as she donned her exquisite graduation gown of white chiffon, reverence again flowed over her like a mantle. When at ten o'clock her father a.s.sisted her into the waiting limousine with much ridiculous ceremony, she presented an unusually lovely vision of radiant girlhood. Only the faint brooding light in her eyes gave sign of the deeper emotion that lay behind them.
The Commencement exercises were to be held in Sanford Hall, a good-sized auditorium on an upper floor of the high school building. The anteroom was to be used as a meeting place for the graduates. From there they were to march, two by two, into the main auditorium. The first three rows of seats at the left of the large room, roped in by broad white ribbon, had been reserved for them. In contradistinction to the custom of many high schools, none of the graduates were to read essays. As valedictorian, Lucy Warner was the only one of them to be publicly heard. The pastor of the First Episcopal Church of Sanford was to address the graduates. The President of the Board of Education and Miss Archer were also to make short addresses. To the former belonged the privilege of announcing the winner of the scholars.h.i.+p.
Marjorie's entrance into the anteroom was the signal for a soft murmur of admiration on the part of a group of white-gowned, flower-laden girls gathered in a corner of the rendezvous. To her adoring friends she had never before looked quite so utterly lovely. The purity of her dainty gown served to enhance the beauty of her sparkling brown eyes and sweetly serious features. A sheaf of long-stemmed white roses, which she carried, was the last touch needed to complete the picture.
”You're the ideal girl graduate, Marjorie,” greeted Jerry, who had come forward to meet her. ”I look nice, the girls there look nicer, but you look nicest. Hal will be all puffed up with pride when he sees you with his roses. Connie is carrying the ones Laurie sent her.”
”It was thoughtful in Hal to send them.” Marjorie's color heightened.
”They are exquisite. I wanted him to know how much I appreciated them.
Someone was nice to you, too, Jerry,” she added slyly, noting the huge bouquet of pink roses on Jerry's plump arm.
It was Jerry who now flushed. ”I have Danny Seabrooke to thank for them,” she confided. ”Don't you dare tell the girls, though.”
Before she could make laughing promise of secrecy, they had reached the others. For the next five minutes a lively exchange of conversation went on among the bevy of graduates, now cl.u.s.tered around Marjorie. She then left them to pay her admiring respects to Mignon La Salle, who had just arrived. Her sharp features animated by a smile of genuine friendliness, Mignon had never appeared to better advantage. Her white lingerie gown, a marvel of expensive simplicity, Marjorie thought the most becoming frock she had ever seen Mignon wear.
Pausing to clasp hands and chat with her for a moment, Marjorie pa.s.sed on to speak to Lucy Warner, a dignified little figure in a simple white organdie frock. As valedictorian, Lucy was living in a maze of proud happiness. From one to another of her cla.s.smates, Marjorie wandered, leaving behind her an atmosphere of good will, created by her lovable personality. In all her cla.s.s there was not one who did not wish her well.
Seated at last in Sanford Hall between Jerry and Constance, she made an alarming discovery. Glancing up and down the rows of white-clad girls, she noted that Veronica Browning was absent. What had happened to keep Ronny away, she wondered in perplexity. The question repeated itself in her brain as she tried to fix her mind on the clergyman's address.
Her eyes constantly sought the door nearest the graduates' section in the hope of seeing the missing girl appear. She wondered if her friends had also made the same belated discovery. Of a sudden she drew a sharp breath. A slender, graceful girl had entered the hall and was noiselessly making her way to the ribboned enclosure. Was this beautiful newcomer, in the ravis.h.i.+ng white lace frock, humble Veronica Browning? A gasping sigh from Jerry announced the stout girl's patent amazement at the metamorphosis. The sigh was followed by an emphatic jab from Jerry's elbow which spoke volumes. Marjorie had but to glance about her to note equal signs of mental perturbation on the part of her cla.s.smates as Veronica slipped into a vacant seat in the third row.
The end of the exercises, however, was destined to furnish them with an even greater surprise. Eagerly alert to hear the name of the winner of the scholars.h.i.+p, the announcement that Lucy Warner had gained it was not in itself a matter of astonishment. It was the speaker's next remark that furnished the surprise.
”I take great pleasure in announcing that this scholars.h.i.+p, the first to be presented to Sanford High School, is the gift of Miss Veronica Browning Lynne. Miss Lynne wishes it to be known hereafter as the 'Marjorie Dean Scholars.h.i.+p,' a tribute of her esteem for Miss Marjorie Dean,” was the bombsh.e.l.l that burst on the senior cla.s.s.
The thunder of applause that swept the auditorium drowned his further speech. Down among the graduates Marjorie Dean presented a petrified figure of amazement. Her brown eyes blinded by tears, she heard dimly the vigorous acclamation of her schoolmates and townspeople. Dimly she was aware that Jerry was holding one of her hands; Constance the other.
With a little sob, she freed them, hiding her burning cheeks behind them. Nor did she have the courage to remove them until the clamor died away. Again she heard the speaker's voice.
”I have also another announcement to make which, while not strictly related to high school matters, pertains to a number of the graduates who are members of the senior cla.s.s sorority, 'The Lookout Club.' During the short period in which this sorority has been in existence it has accomplished much good. Mr. Victor La Salle, one of our most prominent Sanford citizens, wishes me to state that in token of his kindly regard for Miss Marjorie Dean, a member of the club, he wishes to make an endowment of one thousand dollars a year to be used by the Lookout Club as a help in carrying on their work.