"Oh, no, Mlle. Dragonet." Flip looked at the principal and realized with a start that she bore a faint family resemblance to her niece. The thin, aristocratic nose was very like Madame Perceval's, and there was a similarity in the shape of the mouth, though Madame Perceval's had a sweetness that Mlle. Dragonet's lacked. But there was the same flash of humor in the eyes, which were the same gold-flecked grey. As though reading her thoughts, Mlle. Dragonet said, "Madame Perceval tells me your work in her Art classes is very promising." "Oh," Flip breathed. "Your scholastic record is in general quite satisfactory." "Oh," Flip said again. "I hope you are enjoying school?" Flip knew that Mlle. Dragonet wanted her to say "yes," so she answered, "Oh, yes, thank you." "You are enjoying the other girls?" "Oh, yes, thank you." "Sometimes the Americans find our European girls are younger for their years, less sophisticated." "Oh," Flip said. "I hadn't noticed." "You have friends you enjoy?" Flip hesitated; then she thought of Paul, and answered, "Oh, yes, thank you." Mlle. Dragonet rose, and Flip, with sudden insight, realized that the principal, though so calm and fluent when speaking to a group of girls, was almost as shy as she herself was when confronted with an individual, and these infirmary visits cost her a real effort. Mlle. Dragonet ran her fingers in a tired fashion over her grey hair. "It has been a long day," she said to Flip, "and now the snow has started and the girls will be happy and we will have numerous sprained ankles from over-enthusiastic skiers. But as long as the girls are happy perhaps that is all right. If anything should ever trouble you, remember you have only to come to me." "Thank you very much, Mlle. Dragonet," Flip said. "I'll remember." 7 Getting to the chateau was difficult the next Saturday, although Madame Perceval had been right and the snow had stopped and temporarily dashed the skiers' hopes. But enough snow remained on the ground so that Flip put on her spiked ski-boots to help her climb the mountain. Up above her the mountain had a striped, zebra-like look, long streaks of snow alternating with rock or the darker lines of the evergreens. The air was cold and clear and sent the color flying to her cheeks. Paul greeted her with a relieved shout, crying, "Are you all better, Flip?" "Oh yes, I feel fine now." "I was worried about you. I was afraid you might have caught more cold from coming last Sunday. You shouldn't have, you know." "I had to," Flip said. "I promised." "I knew something you couldn't help had kept you. Of course I was a little afraid you'd been caught and they were keeping you from coming. Did you have any trouble getting here today? What will you do when there's a _real_ snow, Flip? You'll never be able to make it." "I'll make it," Flip assured him. "Where's Ariel?" "He's home with my father. Flip, I--I've done something that may make you angry." "What?"