"Come along, then." Madame Perceval took her arm in a friendly way and they set out for the school. They walked in silence, Flip desperately trying to think of something to say to the art teacher to show that she was grateful. Every once in a while she stole a look at Madame Perceval's face, and it was serene and quiet and Flip remembered the way she had looked that evening when she leaned against the tree and looked out over the lake.
"We'll go in the back way," Madame Perceval said, "So we'll be sure not to bump into anyone." She took Flip's hand and opened the small back door and together they crept upstairs like two conspirators. Flip felt ecstatically happy.
Madame lived on the top floor of the building near the Art Studio. She was the only person who slept on the fifth floor except for the cook and the maids who were in the opposite wing of the building. Most of the teachers had single rooms distributed about the school among the girls so that there was at least one teacher to each corridor. Madame Perceval had two curious rooms in one of the turrets, and a tiny kitchen as well. She led Flip into her sitting room. It was octagonal; four of the walls were filled with books; the other four were covered with prints. Flip recognized many of her favorites, two Picasso Harlequins, Holbein's Erasmus, Lautrec's Maybe, Seurat's Study for the Grande Jatte, a stage design by Inigo Jones, Van Gogh's Le Café de Nuit, Renoir's Moulin de la Galette. Flip looked at them enthralled.
Madame Perceval smiled. "I like it, too," she said. "It's a hodge podge but I like it. This bit of privacy is the one privilege I ask for being Mlle. Dragonet's niece. Sit down and I'll brew us a pot of tea." She moved the screen away from the grate, stirred up the coals, and added some more. Flip sat down on a stool covered with a patch of oriental rug and stared into the fire. Behind her she could hear Madame Perceval moving about in her tiny kitchen, and then she was aware that the art teacher was standing behind her. "A penny for your thoughts, Philippa," Madame Perceval said lightly.
Flip continued to stare into the fire. "I was thinking how happy I was, right now, this very minute," she said. "And if I could always be happy the way I am now I shouldn't mind school so much."
"Do you 'mind' school so very much?" Madame Perceval asked.
Flip realized that she had expressed herself far more fully than she had intended. "Oh, no," she denied quickly. "I don't think I've ever been anywhere that was so beautiful. And at night I can look down the mountain to the lake and it's like something out of a fairy tale. And when there's a fog and sometimes you can see the Dents du Midi and then they disappear and then you can see them again—that's like a fairy tale, too. And the kids say we go to Lausanne and Vevey and Gstaad and places at half term and we're going to climb the Col de Jaman on Tuesday as the New Girl's Welcome and I expect that'll be beautiful only I'm not very good at climbing...." her voice trailed off.
"Fräulein Hauser says there's something wrong with one of your legs," Madame Perceval said abruptly. "What is it?"
"I broke my knee."
"How?"