"Some folks calls it that. Golden robin means more to me. I like to have things called by their prettiest names." She was busying herself about the bed. "I'm going to turn these pillows over on their dry side," she said, as if Great-grandmother's goose-feather pillows had always one tear-dampened surface.
"Oh!" Elizabeth said, "I—I——"
But her grandmother wasn't looking at her.
"Speaking o' names," she was saying, "I'll tell you a conundrum that my grandmother used to tell me, a real appropriate conundrum, seeing that it's about a namesake o' yours. See how long it takes you to guess it.
"Elizabeth, Elspeth, Betsy and Bess, All went together to seek a bird's nest, They found a bird's nest with four eggs in it, They each took one and left three in it."
"But how could they?" Elizabeth cried.
"Well, they did, and now's a good chance to show how smart you are, so's Gran'ma needn't make any mistake about it."
Something in the eyes over the bi-focal glasses made Elizabeth squirm a trifle.
"The girls at home," she said, rapidly, "often call me Betsy. Oh, I know now. That's the answer. It was all one girl—Elizabeth, Elspeth, Betsy, and Bess—all nicknames for Elizabeth. I never heard of any one called Elspeth, but I'm called all the others myself."
"Your great-grandmother was always called Elspeth. She always called you that when you was a baby."