"All except Flip," Erna said, and Paul gave Flip another nudge.
They said good-bye at the foot of the back stairs. Paul bowed gallantly
and told Erna and Jackie how much he'd enjoyed meeting them, and then
he and Flip went out to meet Monsieur Laurens.
"Just a week more, Flip," Paul whispered.
"I know," Flip whispered back, and shivered.
"Don't be scared," Paul told her. "You'll be fine. But Flip, how time
has crept up on us!"
"Like the wolf at the door." Flip tried to laugh; then, her voice
suddenly pleading, the voice of a very small, frightened girl, she
begged, "You'll be there, Paul?"
"I promise," Paul said. "Don't worry, Flip. I'll be there."
10
Friday morning after breakfast the lists for the ski meet were on the
board. Flip had rushed through breakfast as usual in order to get a
last morning's work-out on her skis, so she was the first to sign up.
She took the pencil attached to the board by a long chain and looked
at the intermediate events. There was Form, which she signed up for;
the short race, which she also signed for, though sprinting was not her
strong point; and the long race, for which she had higher hopes. Then
there was intermediate jumping, but she didn't sign for that. Madame
Perceval had told her that she was good enough to jump without worry if
ever there were a necessity or emergency, but the slight stiffness and
weakness in her knee held her back more on the jumping than in anything
else. So there was her name at the top of the intermediate lists,
Philippa Hunter, 97, in careful, decisive lettering. She looked at her
name and her stomach seemed to flop over inside of her.
But there isn't time to be scared, she thought. I'd better go out and
ski.
When she came back in to get the mail the lists were pretty well filled
up. Almost everybody in Flip's class was an intermediate. A few were in
the beginners group and Solvei was a senior, but almost all the girls
she knew best had signed under her name and none of them had failed to
notice Philippa Hunter, 97, at the top of the list.
"But Flip, you don't ski!"
"Pill, did you know those lists were for the _ski_ meet?"
"Flip, you didn't _mean_ to sign up for the ski meet, did you?"
"Are you crazy, Philippa Hunter?"
She looked at their incredulous faces and suddenly she began to wonder
if she really _could_ ski. "Yes, I did mean to sign up," she told them.
"But Flip, you can't ski!"
"Fräulein Hauser said you couldn't learn!"
"She said she couldn't teach you!"
"Pill, you must have gone mad!"
"I'm not mad," Flip said, standing with her back against the bulletin
board while the girls crowded around her. "I'm not mad. I did mean to
sign." She tried to move away but they pushed her back against the
board.
Fräulein Hauser came over and said, "Girls!" Then she looked at Flip
and said, "Philippa Hunter, I want to speak to you."
The girls moved away and Flip followed Fräulein Hauser up the stairs.
Now that Madame Perceval was no longer at the school Fräulein Hauser
had taken her place as second to Mlle. Dragonet and most popular of the
teachers. But Flip still stung from the gym teacher's scorn and when
she drew Fräulein Hauser's table at meals she did not regard it as a
piece of good fortune.
Now Fräulein Hauser led her to the deserted class room and said, "What
did you mean by signing up for three events in the ski meet?"
Flip looked stubbornly into Fräulein Hauser's determined, sun-tanned
face. "I want to ski in them."
"Don't be ridiculous." Fräulein Hauser's voice was sharp and annoyance
robbed her features of their usually pleasant expression. "You know you
can't ski well enough to enter even the beginner's events, much less
the intermediate."
"I've been practicing every morning after breakfast for an hour."
"I assure you, Philippa, that you are not a skier. You simply are not
good at sports because of your bad knee and you might as well face it.
You had better stick to your painting. I thought you were settling
down nicely and I must say I don't understand this wild idea of yours
in entering the ski meet. Now be a sensible girl and go downstairs and
take your name off."
Now I shall have to explain, Flip thought, and started, "No, please,
Fräulein Hauser, you see I really do want to enter the ski meet
because--"
But Fräulein Hauser did not give her a chance to finish. "I'm sorry,
Philippa. I haven't time to waste on this nonsense. Suppose you let me
be the judge of whether or not you can ski well enough to enter the
meet. Now go downstairs and cross your name off the list or I shall."
"But please, Fräulein Hauser--" Flip started.
Fräulein Hauser turned away without listening. "I'm sorry, Philippa,"
she said.
"But Fräulein Hauser, I _can_ ski!" Flip cried after her. But the gym
teacher was already out of the room and didn't hear.
Flip waited long enough to give Fräulein Hauser time to get to the
faculty room. Then she walked swiftly down the corridor before she had
time to lose her nerve, and knocked on the door to Mlle. Dragonet's
sitting room.
When Mlle. Dragonet's voice called out "Come in," she didn't know
whether she was filled with relief or regret. She opened the door and
slipped inside, shut it, and stood with her back to it as she had stood
against the bulletin board downstairs.
Mlle. Dragonet was drinking coffee and going over some papers at a
table in front of the fire; she looked up and said kindly, "Well,
Philippa, what can I do for you?"
"Please, Mlle. Dragonet," Flip said desperately, "isn't it entirely up
to the girls whether or not we enter the ski meet and what we sign up
for? I mean, Erna told me you didn't have to be in it if you didn't
want to, and if you did, you could sign up for anything and it was
entirely your own responsibility what you thought you were good enough
for."
"Yes. That's right." Mlle. Dragonet nodded and poured herself some more
coffee out of a silver coffee pot.
"Well, Fräulein Hauser says I must take my name off the lists."
"Why does she say that?" Mlle. Dragonet dropped a saccharine tablet
into her coffee and poured some hot milk into it as though it were the
one thing in the world she was thinking of at the moment.
"Well, when we first started skiing she said I couldn't learn to ski
and she couldn't teach me and I had to give it up. Then Madame Perceval
found out my skis were too long and there was a pair some girl had
left that fitted me and Madame and Paul have been teaching me to ski.
I've practiced every morning after breakfast for an hour and during
the Christmas hols we skied all the time and went on overnight skiing
trips and things and Madame said I should enter the ski meet as an
intermediate. But now Fräulein Hauser says I have to take my name off
the list because she doesn't know I can ski."
"Why didn't you explain to Fräulein Hauser?" Mlle. Dragonet asked.
"I tried to, but she wouldn't listen. I don't think she knew I had
anything to explain. And Madame Perceval said I shouldn't say anything
about her helping me. She said I should say it was just Paul, and I
don't think that would have convinced Fräulein Hauser, no matter how
good a skier Paul is, because I was so _awful_ before. That's why I had
to come to you, Mademoiselle."
Mlle. Dragonet picked up her pencil and twirled it. "So you've been
keeping your skiing a secret?"
"Yes, Mlle. Dragonet."
"Whose idea was this?"
"Paul's. He thought it would be so much fun to surprise everybody."
"Was he coming to the ski meet?"
"Yes, Mademoiselle."
"I can see," Mlle. Dragonet said, "how Paul would think it was fun to
surprise everybody, and how you would think it was fun, too. But don't
you think it's a little hard on Fräulein Hauser?" Her brown eyes looked
mildly at Flip.
Flip countered with another question. "Don't you think Fräulein Hauser
should have noticed that my skis were too long? I know she has so many
beginners she can't pay too much attention to any one person, and I've
always been bad at sports, but as soon as I got skis that were the
right length for me I was better. I wasn't good but at least it was
possible for me to learn."
"And you think you have learned?"
"Yes, Mademoiselle. And it was Madame Perceval who said I should enter
as an intermediate. I haven't seen the others ski so I wouldn't have
known in what group I belonged."
"So Madame Perceval taught you, did she?" Mlle. Dragonet asked. She put
her pencil down and said, "Very well, Philippa. I'll speak to Fräulein
Hauser and explain the situation. It's almost time for Call Over now.
You'd better get down stairs."
"Thank you, Mlle. Dragonet. Thank you ever so much. And you won't say
anything about its being Madame Perceval who found me the skis and
helped me, please? Because she said it would be better not to, only I
didn't think she'd mind if I told you under these--these--imperative
circumstances."
Mlle. Dragonet smiled. "I won't say anything about her part in it. I
promise."
"I'm sorry to have bothered you," Flip said. "I didn't want to but I
didn't know what else to do. I was desperate."
"It's what I'm here for, Philippa," Mlle. Dragonet said.
As Flip left Mlle. Dragonet's sitting room and started down stairs she
wondered how she could ever live through the hours until the ski meet.
The two months since the Christmas holidays had flown by like a swift
bird but the brief time until the next day stretched out ahead of her
like an eternity.
Erna met her when she got downstairs. "You didn't get your mail, Flip.
I took it for you."
"Oh, thanks ever so much," Flip said. "Oh, wonderful! It's a letter
from father. Thanks lots, Erna."
There was just time to read the letter before Call Over if she hurried,
and she was glad to escape the questions and exclamations of the girls
who came clustering about her again, probing her about the ski meet,
telling her that Fräulein Hauser had already crossed her name off the
lists.
She ran down the corridor to the bathroom, locked herself in, and
opened her father's letter.--I'm so glad it came today, she thought.--I
need it to give me courage for tomorrow.
11
"My darling champion skier," the letter began. "How proud I am of
the way you've worked at your skiing and I hope your triumph at the
ski meet will be everything you and Paul could hope for. Now please
don't be disappointed, darling--as a matter of fact maybe you'll be
relieved--but I don't think I'll be able to make it for the ski meet.
You'll probably do much better if you're not worrying about my being
there and the spring holidays will be here before we know it."
She sat staring at the closed white bathroom door in front of her,
with the paint chipped off in places. She was filled with completely
disproportionate disappointment. When she heard someone pounding on the
door and calling, "Flip! Flip!" she could not keep the unwelcome tears
from her eyes.
"Flip! Flip!"
She forced the tears back and opened the door and Erna and Jackie were
anxiously waiting for her.
"Flip!" Erna cried. "You missed Call Over and Hauser's simply furious
and she wants to see you right away."
"She says you're sulking because she took your name off the ski lists.
Oh, Flip, what _do_ you want to be in the ski meet for anyhow when you
can't ski!"
"I _can_ ski," Flip said. "And I'm _not_ sulking because of the ski
meet. Father said he could come and now he can't." The tears began to
trickle down her cheeks. "I haven't seen him since school began," she
managed to whisper.
Erna patted her clumsily on the shoulder. "That's awful, Flip. That's
an awful shame."
"Maybe he'll be able to come at the last minute," Jackie said. "Don't
cry, Flip."
The door opened again and Fräulein Hauser, looking extremely annoyed,
stood in the doorway.
"Really, Philippa Hunter!" she exclaimed. "I have seldom seen such a
display of bad sportsmanship."
Flip drew herself up and suddenly she looked very tall and strong as
she stood facing the gym teacher. "Fräulein Hauser," she said. "I did
not skip Call Over because you took my name off the ski lists. I
didn't even know you'd taken it off. I am crying because I expected to
see my father and now I'm not going to."
Fräulein Hauser looked at the tear blurred face and the crumpled letter
and at Erna and Jackie nodding in corroboration of Flip's words and
said, more gently, "I'm sorry I misunderstood you, Philippa." And she
smiled. "But you can hardly blame me."
"Please, Fräulein Hauser," Flip said. "I've been trying to tell you
that I did learn to ski."
"Philippa, we settled that question this morning. Let's not reopen it."
Fräulein Hauser's voice was short again. "Get along to your classroom,
and quickly, all three of you. It's almost time for the bell."
12
At lunch time Flip's name was written in again over the heavy red line
Fräulein Hauser had used to cross it out.
"Flip, you didn't put your name back!" Erna cried.
Flip shook her head desperately. "I didn't! It's not my writing! It's
Fräulein Hauser's writing! Mlle. Dragonet gave me permission to be in
the ski meet. Paul taught me how to ski." She put her hands to her
head. "If I'd thought there'd be all this fuss and bother I'd never
have entered the old ski meet!" Her head was a wild confusion of misery.
If I could just tell them it was Madame who taught me how to ski that
would make it all right, she thought.
"Hey, Flip," Erna said. "If you don't want your pudding, I do."
After lunch Kaatje van Leyden sought her out. "Look here, Philippa, I
hear you're entering the ski meet."