"And Effie after all, though she wasn't sure she'd be back in time!"
"Good old Effie! I'm glad she's come!"
"Where's Marcia, by the by?"
"Gone to the High School at St. Jude's."
"Poor wretch, I'm sorry for her! What a traipse to go by train every morning! Why, here's Doreen, and she's cut her hair short! Oh, I say! Doreen, old sport, I hardly knew you! What a kid you look!"
Doreen shook back her shock of crisp brown hair, conscious of the pleasing fact that it curled at the ends.
"Kid, indeed!" she replied, with an indignant thrill in her voice. "I was thirteen last week!"
"Shouldn't have thought it," twittered Enid. "I was just going to suggest a pair of socks and ankle-band shoes. There's a new teacher for the kindergarten, if that interests you. There, don't get raggy! Perhaps you'll find yourself in the Sixth after all!"
"No, thank you! I've no yearnings to be in the Oxford Room. I suppose we shall all be going up a form, though? Who are the monitresses this year? Have you heard?"
Enid slipped down from her post on the wall, and locking her arm in Doreen's strolled with her towards the house.