There was yet another pupil who puzzled her, and, for that matter, puzzled the other pupils.
She was an old-fashioned little girl, who was letter-perfect in all her studies, but never brilliant, more quiet than any other girl at Glenmore, and so silent that one marveled that a little girl could be so still. Always neatly, but very plainly dressed, she looked like a little Puritan, and acted like one, as well.
And what a name the child possessed! Patience Little, and she lived up to it.
"Do you think she'd jump if a fire-cracker went off behind her?" questioned Valerie, one day.
"No, indeed, she would not," said Elf, who stood near. "I don't believe she would so much as turn around to look at it. She's spunkless."
Among themselves they spoke of her as "Little Patience."
Once Betty Chase told her that she knew a girl whose name was "Patience," who was always called "Patty."
"My family does not like nicknames," was the reply in a low voice, as she turned away.
The day after the sleigh-ride, Lina Danford, one of the youngest pupils, came rushing down the stairway in great excitement.
"My amber necklace has been stolen! Girls! Do you hear? My amber beads are gone! Some one has been in my room and stolen them! Somebody ought to catch the burglar!"
Dorothy, standing near, put an arm around her, and tried to comfort her.
"Don't say it is gone, Lina, dear! It may be just mislaid. If you like, Nancy and I will go up with you, and help you hunt," but Lina was not easily to be comforted.
She insisted that the beads had been stolen, and that, therefore, it was idle to search.
Patience Little, for the first time, showed a bit of interest. She was crossing the hall when Lina raced down the stairs, and she actually paused to listen to what the little girl had to say. She said nothing, and after a moment, she went up-stairs.
She forgot to close her door, and going over to her dresser, opened its upper drawer. From a velvet case she drew forth a smaller velvet case, which, when she touched a clasp, sprang open, displaying a handsome string of amber beads. She held them up so that the light might play through them.
"I never wear them," she said softly, "but I've liked looking at them. Aunt Millicent gave them to me, and maybe I'd like to wear them sometime, but," she continued, "I'll not be selfish and keep them for _some time_. I'll give them to Lina, in place of those that she has lost."