“Here comes Mattie Harrison,” Catherine announced, waving her hand to a little girl who came running across a plowed field.
Mattie Harrison was quite breathless when she reached them. She was short and fat and her brown eyes twinkled as Catherine introduced her. Elizabeth Ann liked her at once because she spoke to Roger and asked him if he had had a nice summer.
“I guess he worked the same as usual,” said Catherine in what she may have intended to be a low voice, but which Roger heard, for his face flushed.
He said nothing, however, and went on talking to Elizabeth Ann and Doris, while Catherine and Mattie walked ahead.
Elizabeth Ann knew when they were coming to the cross-roads because she saw a group of children waiting there. She counted a dozen boys and girls, and all of them knew Catherine and Mattie and Roger, for they called them by name. Doris was quite overwhelmed at the sight of so many strangers, and she tried to hide behind Elizabeth Ann, but Mattie proved to be an expert at helping people to know each other and before the bus came she had introduced Doris to a little girl almost as shy as herself, and the two were talking like old friends. This other little girl’s name was Coralie—Coralie Slade, and Doris liked her.
“Honk! Honk! Honk!” sounded a deep hoarse horn presently.
Down the road came a great gray, lumbering bus. It stopped within three feet of the waiting children and the grinning young driver looked out at them.
“Line up,” he commanded. “Who’s the little girl in the blue and white dress? Did she ride with me last winter?”
“She’s Elizabeth Ann Loring, Dave,” said Roger Calendar. “And this is her cousin, Doris Mason. They’re going to spend the winter with Uncle Hiram and go to our school.”
“Let company get in first,” Dave, the driver, directed. “Hop in, Elizabeth Ann Loring, and Doris Mason.”