He caught a murmur of "Horrid old thing!" and she began to sob.
The boy knelt and removed her skates gently.

"Come," he suggested wisely. "We'll go into the warming house and have
something to eat. Then you'll feel better. Catch hold of my hand. One,
two, three! Up you come."

They sat down on one of the gray, wooden benches which lined the big
room. Louise studied the dingy sign on the post by the counter.

"Aren't mad, are you?" he asked anxiously. "I didn't do it on purpose."

The easy tears had dried and she shook her head cheerfully.

"Give me some apple pie," she began. Thus peace was concluded.

When she had drained the last drop of cider from the glass and dropped
the pasteboard pie plate on the floor, John kicked it under the seat
with his heel and leaned over to her.

"Take some more," he urged. "I'm not Sid DuPree."

Since the disastrous one in late December, there had been two
exceedingly prosperous snowfalls to supplement the newspaper revenue,
and he had plundered the pig bank for funds for the evening with a clear
conscience.

Again Louise eyed the placard. Coffee was for grown-ups, and strictly
forbidden at home; therefore she would sample a cup of it. "And a
red-hot sandwich and some more apple pie, Johnny."

When she had finished, they started for home. Their feet were still
unaccustomed to the difference between walking and skating and they
stumbled now and then along the path. As they came to the road, John
looked down at her anxiously.

"Have a good time?"

"It was peachy."

"Aren't you glad you didn't go with Sid?"

She nodded.

"Have enough to eat?"

She assented heavily. Strange how the taste of that forbidden coffee
lingered in her mouth.

In the morning as Miss Brown called the roll, John gave a quick glance
backward along the aisle. His lady was absent. The strangely assorted
meal had been too much for her.

But attacks of indigestion rarely last more than a day, and this one
proved no hindrance to the series of tri-weekly skating parties, minus
refreshments, in which the pair participated. After two weeks of
laborious lessons, Louise found that she was able to take a few sure
strokes without gulping and calling for masculine aid. The first trip
around the rough ice about the island followed, sure test of a
beginner's prowess, and, behold! the youthful mentor found the lessons
no longer irksome.

As they sauntered home, skates clashing merrily at every step over the