The other girls appeared to know one another very well, and had much to say after the summer's absence. Elizabeth wondered when there would be time for lessons if the scholars all talked so incessantly, but she soon found that it was only on the first day of school that so much liberty was allowed. The girl who had the desk next to hers enlightened her on this point, as well as on various others.
"You are a new girl, aren't you?" she remarked.
"Yes," said Elizabeth; "are you?"
"Oh dear no! I have been here a year." Elizabeth looked at her with increased respect. She was a tall girl, with bright brown eyes, and curly hair which hung about her face in a dark mass. "I am almost fourteen," she continued; "at least, I am thirteen and a half. How old are you?"
"I was twelve yesterday."
"And my name is Patsy Wayne Loring—that is, it is really Martha, but Martha is such a hateful name I never want to tell it, and I have always been called Patsy. What is yours?"
"Elizabeth Herrick."
"Elizabeth! What a terribly long name! What do they call you?"
"They call me Elizabeth," returned her neighbor.
"Goody! I wouldn't let them if I were you. I should be called Bessie, or Betty, or Beth, or Elsie. There are lots of nicknames for Elizabeth. I think Elsie is a lovely name. But there is Miss Garner! She is very strict."