But Jane didn’t wish. She was a child of one idea and her head was filled with visions of Cedar Pond and its crowd of gay skaters. She could fairly see the boys gliding away across the glistening surface or cutting fancy figures they loved to boast of. She knew some of the girls at school skated. She had listened to glowing tales of the sport at recess the day before.
She peered out the window, an ugly little pucker creasing her forehead. Marian, coming in a few minutes later, found her glooming there still.
“What a long face, little sister, what’s the matter? Have you broken your Xmas dolly or lost that new bracelet or what?”
“Oh, Marian, did you ever skate?”
“Skate?—I should say so. Frank and I are going out this afternoon after the bank closes.”
“Oh, Marian, couldn’t I go, too? Mother said I might learn if I only had some grown up person to go with.”
“But you haven’t any skates, Jane.”
This was a poser, but Jane moved a way out. “Maybe Grace Dart would let me have hers. May I ask mother?”
Marian hesitated a moment, but the child’s face was very pleading and she replied heartily:
“Come along if your mother will let you. We’ll look after you—you may as well ask Katie and Gertie, too. Katy knows how to skate a little, I think.”