Kenneth and Roger grinned at each other, and then turned quickly to the other girls, who had not heard the little parley.
Of course Roger skated with Clementine Morse, and Kenneth with Elise, which arrangement quite satisfied the dark-eyed beauty.
“You look like Little Red Riding-hood,” said Kenneth, as they started off, with long, gliding strokes.
“Don’t be a wolf, and eat me up,” laughed Elise, for Kenneth had fur on his cap and overcoat, and with his big fur gloves, seemed almost like some big, good-natured animal.
“You skate beautifully, Elise,” said Kenneth, “and all you girls do. Look at Clementine; isn’t she graceful?”
“Yes,” agreed Elise, “and so is Patty.”
“Patty,” echoed Kenneth. “She is a poem on ice!”
She was, and Elise knew it, but a naughty little jealousy burned in her heart at Ken’s words.
She bravely tried to down it, however, and said: “Yes, she is. She’s a poem in every way.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. In some ways she’s more of a jolly, merry jingle.”