in the westley home each school day had always begun with a rite that would some day be a sacred memory to mrs. westley, because it belonged to the precious childhood of her girls and boy. graham called it "inspection." it had begun when the youngsters had first started school, isobel and graham proudly in the "grades," gyp in kindergarten. the mother had, each morning, laughingly stood them in a row and looked them over. more than once poor graham had declared that it was because his ears were so big that mother could always find dirt somewhere; sometimes it was isobel who was sent back to smooth her hair or gyp to wash her teeth or tibby for her rubbers. but after the inspection there was always a "good-luck" kiss for each and a carol of "good-by, mother" from happy young throats.

so on this day that was to mark the opening of the lincoln school at highacres, jerry stood in line with the others and, though each young person was faultlessly ready for this first day of school, mrs. westley laughingly pulled graham's ears, smiled reminiscently at isobel's primness, smoothed with a loving hand gyp's rebellious black locks and thought, as she looked at jerry, of what uncle johnny had said about her eyes reflecting golden dreams from within. and when she called tibby "littlest one" none of them could know that, as she looked at them and realized that another year was beginning, it stirred a little heartache deep within her.

"aren't mothers funny?" reflected gyp as she and jerry swung down the street. they had preferred to walk.

"oh----" jerry had to control her voice. "i think they're grand!"

"i mean--they're so fussy. when i have children i'm just going to leave them plumb alone. i don't care what they'll look like."

"you will, though," laughed jerry. "because you'll love them. if our mothers didn't love us so much i suppose they'd leave us alone. that would be dreadful!"

jerry had slept very little the night before for anticipation. and now that the great moment was approaching close she was obsessed by the fear that she "wouldn't know what to do." the fear grew very acute when she was swept by gyp into a crowd of noisy girls, all rushing for space in the dressing-rooms. then, at the ringing of a bell, she was hurried with the others up the wide stairway. she caught a glimpse of gyp ahead, surrounded by chums, all trying to exchange in a brief moment the entire summer's experiences. she looked wildly around for a familiar face. she caught one little glimpse of ginny cox, who smiled at her across a dozen heads, then rushed away with the others.

in the assembly room a spirit of gaiety prevailed. the eager faces of the boys and girls smiled at the faculty, sitting in prim rows on the stage; the faculty smiled back. there was stirring music until the last pupil had found her place. then, just as dr. caton, the dignified principal, rose to his feet, a boy whom jerry from her corner recognized as dana king, leaped to the front, threw both arms wildly in the air with a gesture that plainly commanded: "come on, fellows," and the beamed ceiling rang with a lusty cheer.

dr. caton greeted the students with a few pleasant words. there were more cheers, then everyone sang. jerry thought it all very jolly. she wondered if "assembly" was always like this. she recalled suddenly how agitated poor miss sarah always became if there was the slightest noise in that stuffy schoolroom, back at the notch.

"look--there's the new gym. teacher--on the end--barbara lee," whispered jerry's neighbor, excitedly.

jerry looked with interest. in the entire faculty she had not found anyone who resembled, even ever so slightly, poor miss sarah. miller's notch, of course, had no gymnasium, therefore it had not needed any gymnasium assistant. jerry had imagined that a gym. teacher must, necessarily, be a sort of young amazon, with a strong, hard face. miss lee was slender and looked like one of the schoolgirls.

it had always been the custom at lincoln school, on the opening day, to assign the new pupils to the care of the seniors. these assignments were posted on the bulletin boards. jerry did not know this: she did not know that isobel westley had been appointed her "guardian." before assembly, isobel had read her name on the lists and had promptly declared: "i just won't! let her get along the best way she can." so, when assembly was over, jerry found herself drifting helplessly, forlornly elbowed here and there, too shy to ask questions, valiantly trying to beat down the desire to run away. she envied the assurance with which the others, even the new girls, seemed to know just where they ought to go. she had not laid eyes on gyp after that one fleeting glimpse on the stairs.

suddenly a hand touched her arm and, turning, she found barbara lee beside her. the kind smile on miss lee's face brought a little involuntary quiver to her lips.

"lost, my dear?"

"i--i don't know--where----"

"you are a new girl? what is your name?"

"jerauld travis."

"oh--yes. where is your guardian?" as she spoke miss lee stepped to the bulletin board that hung in the corridor. she read isobel's name.

"you were assigned to isobel westley. it is strange that she has left you alone. come to the library with me, jerauld."

jerry realized now why it had been so easy for all the other "new girls" to find their places--they had had guardians. she tried to smother a little feeling of hurt because isobel had deserted her.

the library, gloriously sunlit on this golden morning, was empty. miss lee pulled two chairs toward a long table.

"sit here, jerauld. now tell me all about your other school--so we can place you." and she patted jerry's hand in a jolly encouraging way.

it was very easy for jerry to talk to miss lee. she told of the work she had covered back at the notch. miss lee listened with interest and, knowing nothing of jerry's home life and jerry's mother, some amazement.

"i believe you could go straight into the junior class though you're----"

"oh, can't i be in gyp's room?" cried jerry in dismay. "gyp westley, i mean. you see she's the only girl i know real well."

barbara lee, for all that she was trying to look very grown-up and dignified, as a teacher should, could remember well how much it meant in school life to be near one's "chum." so she laughed, a laugh that warmed jerry's heart.

"i think--perhaps--that can be arranged," she said in a tone that indicated that she would help. "we will go to see dr. caton."

even after the long consultation with dr. caton, miss lee did not desert jerry. as they walked away from the office, she whispered assuringly to jerry: "dr. caton thinks you had better go into the third form room--for a term, at least." accordingly she led her into one of the smaller study rooms. and there was gyp smiling and beckoning her to an empty desk beside her. but miss lee took jerry to her classrooms; she introduced her to miss briggs, the geometry teacher, then to miss gray of the english department, and on to the french room and to the ancient history classroom. bewildered, jerry answered countless questions and registered her name over and over.

"there, my dear, you're settled for this term, at least," declared miss lee as they left the last classroom, "now go back to your study-room and take that desk that gyp westley's saving for you."

assigned to classes and with a desk of her own--and with gyp close at hand--jerry felt like a real lincolnite and her unhappy shyness vanished as though by magic. during the long recess that followed, the bad half-hour forgotten, with a budding confidence born of her sense of "belonging," she sought the other "new" girls. among them was patricia everett, who came directly to jerry.

"i know you're jerry travis. i'm aunt pen everett allan's niece. i'm crazy to go and visit cobble mountain. that's very near your home, isn't it?" so sincere was her interest that jerry felt as though she was suddenly surrounded by a wealth of friendship. patricia seemed to know everyone else--they were nearly all girl scouts in her troop; she introduced jerry to so many girls that poor jerry could not remember a single name.

ginny cox, spying jerry from across the room, bolted to her.

"you're going to sign up for basketball, aren't you? of course you are. wait right here--i'll call mary starr." she rushed away and before jerry could catch her breath she returned with a tall, pleasant-faced girl who carried a small leather-bound notebook in her hand.

she wrote jerry's name in it and went away.

"miss travis, will you sign up for hockey?" jerry, on familiar ground, eagerly assented to this. her name went into another book. another girl waylaid her. she signed for swimming. she noticed that the others around her were doing the same thing. patricia brought a girl to her whom she introduced as peggy lee. peggy carried a notebook, too.

"will you sign up for the debating club, miss travis?" she asked with a dignity that was belied by her roguish eyes.

jerry was quite breathless; she had never debated in her life--but then she had never played basketball either.

"oh, do sign. we're all joining and it's awfully exciting," pleaded patricia. so jerry signed for the debates.

"whenever will i find time to study latin and geometry? i know i'm going to be dumb in that," cried jerry, that evening, to the westley family. she spoke with such real conviction that everyone laughed.

uncle johnny had "dropped in." he was as eager as though he was a schoolboy, himself, to hear the children's experiences of the day. though they all talked at once, he managed to understand nearly all that they were telling.

"and you, jerry-girl, what did you think of it all?"

because she had felt like one little drop in a very big puddle, jerry simply couldn't tell. but her eyes were shining. gyp broke in. "jerry could be a junior if she wanted to, but she's going to stay in my study-room for awhile. and they've signed her up for every single thing!"

jerry, ignorant of lincoln traditions, did not know that this was a tribute.

then she had wondered when, with everything else, she would find time for her cicero and geometry.

"who you got? speck-eyes?"

"graham----" cried mrs. westley. "i will not have you speaking in that way of your teachers!"

graham colored; he knew that this was a point upon which his mother had always been very firm.

"oh, miss briggs is all right--i like her, but all the fellows call her that."

"do you suppose they'll nickname miss lee?"

to jerry it seemed that that would be sacrilege--she was too dear! uncle john had, then, to hear all about her. he was much interested, he had not realized that she was grown-up enough to teach.

"but she really doesn't seem a bit so," gyp explained.

then quite suddenly graham asked jerry: "say, jerry, who was your guardian?"

jerry's face turned very red. she caught a defiant look from isobel. she did not want to answer; even the ethics of the little school at miller's notch had had no tolerance for a telltale.

"a--a senior. she couldn't find me."

poor jerry--graham's careless inquiry had dimmed her enthusiasm. why hadn't isobel found her? with the friendliness of spirit that was such a part of the very atmosphere of lincoln, why had isobel, alone, stood aloof? she looked at isobel--she was so pretty now as she talked, with animation, to uncle johnny. jerry thought, as she watched her, that she'd rather have isobel love her than any of those other nice girls she had met at highacres--patricia everett, ginny cox, peggy lee, keineth randolph----

"i'll just make her," she vowed, gathering up her shiny new school-books. and that solemn vow was to help jerry over many a rough spot in the schooldays to come.