--just behind. And then
Jerry--like them both and not a bit like 'em--her head in the clouds,
all right--a girl who sees beauty and a promise and a vision in
everything--a girl of dreams! You can imagine almost any sort of a story
about her."

As Mrs. Allan had done, Mrs. Westley laughed at her brother-in-law's
enthusiasm.

"She's probably just a healthy girl who has been brought up in a simple
way by very sensible parents." Her matter-of-fact tone made John Westley
feel a little foolish. "She's a dear, sunny child and I hope she will be
happy here."

"What got me was her utter lack of self-consciousness and her faith in
herself. Not an affectation about her--that's why I wanted her at
Lincoln school."

"No one'll _look_ at her there--she's so dowdy!" burst out Isobel.

Her uncle turned quickly, surprised and a little hurt at the pettishness
of her tone.

"Isobel, dear--" protested her mother.

Then Uncle Johnny laughed. "I rather guess, from my observation of the
vagaries of you young people, that sometimes one little thing can make
even a 'dowdy' girl popular--then, if she has the right stuff in her,
she can be a leader. What is it starts you all wearing these little
black belts round your waists, or this mousetrap," poking the puffs of
pretty silk hair that hid her ears; "it's a psychology that's beyond
most of us! Maybe my Jerry will set a new style in Lincoln."

Isobel blazed in her scorn.

"Well, I'd _die_ before _I'd_ look like her!" she cried. "I'm going to
bed." She felt very cross. She had wanted Uncle Johnny to tell her that
she looked well; she had on a new dress and her hair was combed in a
very new way; she had grown, too, in the summer. Instead he had talked
of nothing but Jerry, Jerry--and such silly talk about her eyes shining
as though they reflected golden visions within! She stalked away with a
bare good-night.

Uncle Johnny might have said something if Isobel's mother had not given
a long sigh.

"I can't--always--understand Isobel now," she said. "She has grown so
self-centered. I'll be glad when school begins." Mrs. Westley, like many
another perplexed parent, looked upon school as a cure for all evils.

Jerry and Gyp had been busily unpacking Jerry's belongings and putting
them away in the little white bureau.

"Where's Pepper?" asked Jerry, in sudden alarm. The children had been
warned to keep the little dog from "under Mrs. Hicks' feet." In a flash
Jerry had a horrible vision o