Then he summoned architects from all over the country who, to his delight, spent hours in the office of the Westley Cement-Mixer Manufacturing Company trying to outdo one another in finesse and suavity. Fortunately he decided upon a man who had genius as well as tact, who, without his knowing it, could quietly bend old Peter Westley to his way of thinking. Under this man's planning the new home grew until it stood in its finished perfection, a mass of stone and marble surrounded by great trees and sloping lawns. Gossip said further that Highacres so far surpassed the remodeled home of Thomas Knowles that that poor gentleman had resigned from the Meadow Brook Country Club so that he would not have to drive past it! What sentiment had led Peter Westley to leave Highacres to the Lincoln School no one would ever know; perhaps deep in his queer old heart was an affection for his nephew Robert's children, who came dutifully to see him once or twice a year, but made no effort to conceal the fact that they thought it a dreadful bore. "I think," Isobel said seriously to her family, as they were gathered around the breakfast table, a few days after Jerry's arrival, "that it'd be nice if Gyp and I put on black----" "_Black_----" cried Gyp, spilling her cocoa in her astonishment. "Yes, black. We should have worn it when Uncle Peter died and now, going to school out there, it would show the others that we respected----" Mrs. Westley laughed, then when she saw the color deepen on Isobel's cheeks she added soothingly: "Your thought's all right, Isobel dear, but it will be hardly necessary for you and Gyp to put on black now to show your respect. I think every pupil of Lincoln can best do it by building up a reputation for scholarship that will make Lincoln known all over the country." "Isobel just wants everybody to remember she's Uncle Peter's----" "Hush, Graham." Mrs. Westley had a way of saying "hush" that cleared a threatening atmosphere at once. "Oh, isn't it going to be _fun_?" cried Gyp. "Mother, can't we take Jerry out there this morning?" "But I have to use the car----" "If you girls were fellows, we could walk," broke in Graham. "We can--we can! It's only two miles and a half. Simpson watched on the speedometer the last time we drove out." Graham looked questioningly at Jerry and Jerry, suddenly recalling the miles of mountain trail over which she had climbed, laughed back her answer.