ol
Frolic. And why did he call you Cinderella?" asked Gyp as the young
people rode homeward.

Jerry had no intention of telling Isobel of the ignominy of the pumps,
so she answered evasively: "Because it was my first party, I guess,"
then, with a long, happy sigh, she cuddled back against Gyp's shoulder
and watched the street lamps flash past. Oh, surely the Wishing-rock had
opened a wonderful new world to little Jerry!

"Did you tell him it _was_ your first party?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Oh--nothing. _I_ wouldn't have been honest 'nough to--I'd have
pretended I'd gone to lots."

"_I'm_ not going to the Frolic," Isobel broke in. "I'm too old for such
things."

Gyp straightened indignantly.

"Too old to coast? Well, I hope _I_ never grow as old as _that_!" she
cried.

"_You_ never _will_!" was Isobel's withering answer.

CHAPTER XIII

HASKIN'S HILL

"Jerry--it's _perfect_! Come and look." Gyp, shivering in her pajamas,
was standing with her small nose flattened against Jerry's cold window.
Downstairs a clock had just chimed seven.

Jerry sprang from her bed with one bound. She peeped over Gyp's
shoulder. A thaw the day before had made the girls very anxious, but now
a sparkling crust covered the snow and the early sun struck coldly
across the housetops.

This was the day of the Lincoln Midwinter Frolic.

"Bring your clothes into my room and we'll dress in front of the fire.
Uh-h-h, isn't it cold? But won't it be _fun_? Don't you wish it was ten
o'clock now? It's going to be the very best part of the whole holiday!"

Jerry thought so, too, when, a few hours later, she and Gyp joined a
large group of the Lincoln girls and boys at the trolley station. A
special car, attached to the regular interurban trolley, was to take
them and their sleds and skis--and lunch--out to Haskin's Hill where the
Midwinter School Frolic was always held.

Jerry had not caught a glimpse of the country since arriving with Uncle
Johnny at the Westley home. As the car sped along she sat quiet amid the
merry uproar of her companions, but her eyes were very bright; these
wide, open stretches of fields, with the little clusters of buildings
and the hills just beyond, made her think of home.

The founders of Lincoln School had wanted to thoroughly establish the
principle of co-education. "These young people," one of them had said,
"will have to live and work and play in a world made up of both men and
women; let them learn, now,