Jerry Macy and Marjorie Dean whirled about at the sound of that wrathful voice. Mignon La Salle confronted them, her eyes flashing, her fingers closing and unclosing in nervous rage, looking for all the world like a young tigress.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, some one lead her away!" muttered the Crane to Irma Linton. "I told Hal to-day that, with Mignon aboard the good old party ship, we'd be sure to have fireworks. Real dynamite, too, and no mistake. I wonder what's upset her sweet, retiring disposition?" His boyish face indicated his deep disgust.

"I heard every word you said!" screamed Mignon. Rage had stripped her of the thin veneer of civilization. She was the same young savage who had kicked and screamed her way to whatever she desired when years before she had been the terror of the neighborhood. "So, that's the reason you invited me to your old party! You got together and picked me to pieces and decided to reform me! Just let me tell you that you had better look to yourselves. I don't need your kind offices. You are a crowd of hateful, deceitful, mean, horrible girls! I despise you all! Everyone of you! Do you hear me? I despise you! And you, Jerry Macy, had better be a little careful as to what you gossip about me. I can tell you——"

There came a sudden interruption to the tirade. Through the amazed groups of young people who could not resist lingering to find out what it was all about, Mrs. Dean resolutely made her way.

"That will do, Miss La Salle," she commanded sternly. "I cannot allow you to make such a disgraceful scene in my home, or insult my daughter and her guests. If you will come quietly upstairs with me and state your grievance, I shall do all in my power to rectify it. Marjorie," she turned to her daughter, who stood looking on in wide-eyed distress, "ask the musicians to start the music for the next dance."

Marjorie obeyed and, somewhat ashamed of their curiosity, the dancers forgot their thirst for lemonade and flocked into the ballroom. Only Jerry Macy and Mary Raymond remained.

"It's all my fault, Mrs. Dean," began Jerry contritely. "I didn't know Mignon was in the alcove. I can't help saying she had no business to listen, but——"

"It is my business," began Mignon furiously. "I have a right——"

"Don't begin this quarrel all over again." Mrs. Dean held up her hand for silence. "I repeat," she continued, regarding Mignon with marked displeasure, "if you will come upstairs with me——"

"Mrs. Dean, it's a shame the way Mignon has been treated to-night," burst forth Mary Raymond, "and I for one don't intend to stand by and see her insulted. Miss Macy said perfectly hateful things about her. I heard them. Marjorie is just as much to blame. She listened to them and never said a word to stop them."

"Mary Raymond!" Mrs. Dean's voice held an ominous note that should have warned Mary to hold her peace. Instead it angered her to open rebellion.

"Don't 'Mary Raymond' me," she mocked in angry sarcasm. "I meant what I said, every word of it. Mignon is my dear friend and I shall stand up for her."

"Oh, let me alone, all of you!" With an agile spring, Mignon gained the stairway and sped up the stairs on winged feet. Two minutes later, wrapped in her evening coat and scarf, she reappeared at the head and ran down the steps two at a time. "Thank you so much for a delightful evening," she bowed ironically. "I'm so sorry I haven't time to stay and be lectured. It's too bad, isn't it, Miss Mary, that the reform couldn't go on?" To Mary she held out her hand. "Come and spend the day with me to-morrow, Mary. You may like it so well, you'll decide to stay. If you do, why just come along whenever you feel disposed. I can assure you that our house is a pleasanter place to live in than the one you are in now." With this pointed fling she bowed again in mock courtesy to the silent woman who had offended her and flounced out the door and into the starlit night to where her own electric runabout was standing.

"Can you beat that?" was the tribute that fell from Jerry Macy's lips.

Mrs. Dean looked from one to the other of the three girls. "Now, girls, I demand an explanation of all this. Who of you is at fault in the matter?"

"I told you it was I," answered Jerry. "Marjorie and I were talking about Mignon and saying that she was having a good time. Then I had to go on and say some more things that I don't take back, but that weren't intended for listeners. I didn't know Mignon and Mary were hidden in that alcove. Do you suppose I'd have spoiled our reform, after all the trouble we've had making it go, if I'd known they were there?"

Mrs. Dean could not repress a faint smile at Jerry's rueful admissions. She liked this stout, matter-of-fact girl in spite of her rough, brusque ways.

"No, I don't suppose you would, but you were in the wrong, I am afraid. You must learn to curb that sharp tongue, Jerry. It is likely, some day, to involve you in serious trouble."

"I know it." Jerry hung her head. "But, you see, Marjorie understands me. That's why I say to her whatever I think."

"Mary," Mrs. Dean gravely studied Mary's sulky face, "I am deeply hurt and surprised. Later I shall have something to say to you and Marjorie. Now go back to your friends, all of you, and try to make up to them for this unpleasantness."

Marjorie, who all this time had said nothing, now began timidly. She had seldom seen her beloved Captain so stern. "Captain, we are——"

"Not another word. I said, 'later.'"

Jerry and Marjorie turned to the ballroom. Mary however, with a scornful glance at Mrs. Dean, faced about and went upstairs. She had been imbued with a naughty resolve and she determined to proceed at once to carry it out.

The dancing went on for a little, but the disagreeable happening had dampened the ardor of the guests and they began leaving for home soon afterward.

It was midnight when the last sound of the footsteps of the departing youngsters echoed down the walk. Side by side, Marjorie and her mother watched them go, then the latter slipped her arm through that of her daughter and said, "Now, Marjorie, we will get to the bottom of this affair. Come with me to Mary's room."

They reached it to find the door closed. Mrs. Dean knocked upon one of the panels.

"What do you want?" inquired an angry voice.

"We wish to come in, Mary," was Mrs. Dean's even response.

There was a muttered exclamation, a hurry of light feet, then the door was flung open.

"You can come in for all I care," was Mary's rude greeting. "You might as well know now that I'm not going to live here after to-night. I'm going to Mignon's house to live." Piles of clothing scattered about and a significantly yawning trunk bore out the assertion.

Mrs. Dean knew that the time for action had come. Walking over to the girl, she placed deliberate hands on her shoulders. "Listen to me, Mary Raymond," she said decisively. "You are not going one step out of this house without my consent. Your father intrusted you to my care, and I shall endeavor to carry out his wishes. You know as well as I that he would be displeased and sorry over your behavior. I had intended to talk matters over with you and Marjorie now, but you are in no mood for reason. Therefore we will allow this affair to rest until to-morrow. But, once and for all, unless your father sanctions your removal in a letter to me, you will stay here, under my roof. Come, Marjorie."

With a sorrowful glance toward the tense, angry little figure, Marjorie followed her mother from the room.

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