It would have been impossible for a much colder heart than Dorothy Collingwood's to resist her.
"Now, Marshall, what is it? How fussy and important you look!"
Miss Percival's accident, and Bridget O'Hara's share in it, were the subjects of conversation not only that night, but the next morning.
While Marshall was speaking she looked down at the pretty and rebellious young prisoner with marked interest."Couldn't you write to father, Mrs. Freeman, and tell him that I am not happy? Say, 'Biddy is not happy, and she wants to go back to you and the dogs.' If you say that, he'll let me come home fast enough. You might write by the next post, and father, he'd jump on the jaunting-car and drive into Ballyshannon, and send you a wire. If papa wires to you, Mrs. Freeman, the very moment he gets your letter, I may perhaps be home on Sunday.""Hadn't they got leave to come to meet me?"
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she thought of this plan; but, in the first place, she had no idea how to manage it, and, what was a far more serious obstacle, her little sealskin purse, her father's last present, was empty.
It was in some such fashion that the world spoke to Bridget O'Hara on this special summer's morning.Bridget slipped her hand into her pocket, and pulled out an exquisitely embossed vinaigrette.
CHAPTER II. THE NEW GIRL."Oh, she's telling a story," whispered Olive under her breath. She settled herself contentedly to listen.
In every sense of the word Bridget was unexpected. She had an extraordinary aptitude for arithmetic, and took a high place in the school on account of her mathematics. The word mathematics, however, she had never even heard before. She could gabble French as fluently as a native, but did not know a word of the grammar. She had a perfect ear for music, could sing like a bird, and play any air she once heard, but she could scarcely read music at all, and was refractory and troublesome when asked to learn notes.
The children disappeared in as frantic haste to be off as they were a few minutes ago to arrive.