"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.