“But I have had more work than the Freshman and Middle Classes require. It would not take me long to complete the work for the Senior year. I want to go,—I think I have always wanted to go to school, but it seems such a waste of money. You can teach me more, I can really learn as much at home.”
Her father laughed, “Impossible! The girls at Exeter will teach you more in one term than I can in a year. I do not expect you to be a Senior. I shall be more than satisfied with your entering as a ‘Middler.’ You’ll need plenty of time for extras.”
“Extras? What extras must I take?”
“Chafing-dish cooking and fudge making,” replied Miss Hale, promptly. “It will take a full term for you to find your place among young people, and learn all they will teach you.”
“But they will know no more than I do,” said Elizabeth.
“Perhaps not so much; but what they know will bear no relation to what they teach you. I’m willing to promise that you will learn more from your roommate than you do from any instructor there.”
Elizabeth glanced from one to the other. She failed to understand.
“We will have no more lessons after to-morrow,” said Mrs. Hobart. “Elizabeth and I will begin putting her clothes in order. There will be a great deal to do, for she will need so much more at school than she does at home. We do not wish to hurry.”
“Only eight weeks yet,” said Elizabeth, “I wish I was going next week.”
The day following the work on the outfit for school began. “Plain and simple,” her mother declared it should be. But Elizabeth fairly held her breath as she viewed the beautiful articles laid out to be made.