"And now listen very carefully, Jerry, and hold on to my arm so that you won't fall off from the mountain! You are going with us!"

Jerry did hold on to his arm with a grip that hurt. She stared, with round, wondering eyes.

He laughed at her unbelief. "Your wish is coming true! You're going to ride along that road yonder, in my automobile, which ought to get here to-morrow, straight around to the other side of the mountain, and on and on—then you're going to stay all winter with my own nieces and go to school with them——"

Jerry's breath came in an excited gasp.

"Oh, it can't—be—true! Mother'd never let me."

"It is true! Mothers are always willing to do the things that are going to be best for their girls. Mrs. Allan and I have persuaded her——"

But Jerry, with a "whoop," was racing down the trail, Bigboy and Pepperpot at her heels. She vaulted the little gate leading into the garden and swept like a small whirlwind upon her mother, sitting in the willow rocker on the porch. With a violent hug she tried to express the madness of her joy and so completely was her face hidden on her mother's shoulder that she did not see the quick tears that blinded her mother's eyes.

That was on Monday—there were only three days to get her small wardrobe ready and packed and to ask the thousand questions concerning the Westley girls (Graham was utterly forgotten) and the school. Then there were wonderful, long talks with mother, sitting close by her side, one hand tight in hers—solemn talks that were to linger in Jerry's heart all her life.

"I don't ever want to do anything, Mumsey Sweetheart, that'd make you the least little, little bit unhappy!" Jerry had said after one of these talks, suddenly pressing her mother's hand close to her c