{"product_id":"2940013157934","title":"MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE FRESHMAN","description":"CHAPTER I.—A LONELY LOOKOUT.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Oh, dear! I wish Jerry would come home! I want to see her! I’ve always\u003cbr\u003emissed her terribly during vacations, but this summer I’ve missed her\u003cbr\u003emore than ever. I’m simply starved for a sight of her dear jolly face!\u003cbr\u003eHere it is, the twenty-fourth of August, and no Jerry Jeremiah Geraldine\u003cbr\u003eMacy!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMarjorie Dean had addressed this little series of wistful remarks to no\u003cbr\u003eone in particular. She stood at one of the long French windows of the\u003cbr\u003eliving room, her nose flattened against the pane, little-girl fashion,\u003cbr\u003ewatching a very wet outdoors. All morning, the rain had been beating\u003cbr\u003edown with a sullen persistency which Marjorie found distinctly\u003cbr\u003edisheartening. She was as near to having a case of the blues as was\u003cbr\u003epossible to one of her care-free, buoyant nature. Wet weather did not\u003cbr\u003eoften interfere with her happiness. Given her particular girl friends\u003cbr\u003ewithin telephone call and she could discount a rainy day.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eToday she was without that source of entertainment and consolation. None\u003cbr\u003eof her chums had returned to Sanford from their summer outings. Susan\u003cbr\u003eAtwell, Irma Linton, Muriel Harding, Constance Stevens, Jerry Macy—all\u003cbr\u003ewere missing from the town into which Marjorie had come, a stranger, but\u003cbr\u003eof which she now was, to use her own expression, “a regular citizen.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMarjorie’s thoughts were dwelling on her absent schoolmates as she\u003cbr\u003epensively watched the rain. She wondered if, wherever they were, they\u003cbr\u003ewere penned in by the rain too. It seemed rather queer to her that she\u003cbr\u003eshould be the only one of the sextette of girls, who had founded the\u003cbr\u003eLookout Club, to be spending the summer in Sanford. She was not a real\u003cbr\u003eSanfordite by birth. With the exception of Constance Stevens, the others\u003cbr\u003eclaimed Sanford as their native town.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eReaders of the “Marjorie Dean High School Series” have already an\u003cbr\u003eacquaintance with Marjorie Dean, and have followed her course as a\u003cbr\u003estudent at Sanford High School. They have seen her through both sad and\u003cbr\u003ehappy days, the events of which have been chronicled in “Marjorie Dean,\u003cbr\u003eHigh School Freshman,” “Marjorie Dean, High School Sophomore,” “Marjorie\u003cbr\u003eDean, High School Junior,” and “Marjorie Dean, High School Senior.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“There goes that old mail carrier and he isn’t going to stop here!” This\u003cbr\u003etime Marjorie’s tones were not wistful. Their disgusted energy indicated\u003cbr\u003eher patent disappointment. Her red lips drooped in dejection as she saw\u003cbr\u003ethe unfeeling object of her hopeful anticipation plod stolidly past the\u003cbr\u003egate without so much as a glance at the mailbox at the foot of the\u003cbr\u003edriveway.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Not one single solitary letter,” mourned the watcher. “Why doesn’t\u003cbr\u003eJerry write?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“When did you hear from Jerry last, Lieutenant?” Mrs. Dean had entered\u003cbr\u003ethe room in time to hear Marjorie’s plaint.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Oh, Captain, I’m _so_ glad you came to the rescue! I was _so_ lonely!\u003cbr\u003eYou asked me when last I heard from Jerry. Why, it’s almost two weeks.\u003cbr\u003eShe wrote me it was awfully hot at the beach and—Are you going to stay\u003cbr\u003ehere awhile and talk to me, Captain?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMarjorie interrupted herself with this question. Her downcast face had\u003cbr\u003ebegun to brighten.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“If you are,” she continued, “I’ll run up to my house and get Jerry’s\u003cbr\u003elast letter. I’d love to read it to you.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’ll oblige you by staying awhile.” Mrs. Dean sat down in her own\u003cbr\u003eparticular wicker rocker, her eyes resting fondly on Marjorie.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You’re a dear. Be back in a minute.” A rush of light feet on the stairs\u003cbr\u003eproclaimed that Marjorie had gone to her “house,” as she chose to call\u003cbr\u003eher pretty pink and white room, for her letter.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I can’t find it,” presently announced a disappointed voice from above\u003cbr\u003estairs. “Have you seen a square gray envelope with large writing on it\u003cbr\u003eanywhere in the living room, Captain?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I am looking straight at one now,” came the reassuring information.\u003cbr\u003e“You left it on the mantelpiece, Lieutenant.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Oh, thank you.” A moment and Marjorie was heard making a vigorous\u003cbr\u003edescent of the stairs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I came down stairs at a positive gallop,” she said lightly, as she\u003cbr\u003ecrossed the room and secured her letter. “I was afraid I had left it in\u003cbr\u003ethe table drawer in the pagoda. If I had, that would have meant a wading\u003cbr\u003etrip for me.","brand":"SAP","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47147499913456,"sku":"2940013157934","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013157934_p0.jpg?v=1763577344","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013157934","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}