Flip raised her leg and the long ski no longer tumbled her ignominiously onto the snow. She snapped her other leg around and there she was, all in one piece and erect.
"Bravo!" Madame cried. "Now herring-bone up the little hill and come down again."
Her tongue sticking out with eagerness, Flip did as Madame Perceval told her.
"Good," the art teacher said. "Good, Philippa. More spring in your knees if you can. How about that bad knee? Does it bother you?"
"Not much." Flip shook her head. "Oh, Madame, do you think I can learn?"
"I know you can. Just don't stick your tongue out so far. You might bite it off in one of your tumbles."
"Do you think Fräulein Hauser will take me back in the skiing class?"
"Wait! Wait!" Paul cried, waving his ski sticks in wild excitement. "I have a much better idea."
Madame laughed and ducked as one of the sticks went flying. "All right, Paul. Calm down and tell us this magnificent idea." But Flip could see that she was pleased because Paul sounded excited and happy, and the dark look had fled from his face.
"Well, Flip was telling me about this ski meet you have at school and how everybody can go in for it and there's a prize for form, and a long race, and a short race, and a prize for the girl who's made most progress and all sorts of things. And I think it would be wonderful if we could teach Flip and she could enter the ski meet and win and surprise everybody."