Mrs. Freeman breathed a sigh of relief.
"You have a perfect mania for those children, Dorothy," exclaimed Olive. "I call it an impertinence on their parts to worry themselves about sixth-form girls. What's the matter, Janet? Why that contraction of your angel brow?""Nonsense, Janet, you know you're one of the best French scholars in the school. You won't get out of answering my question by that flimsy excuse. Don't you hate Miss O'Hara?"
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"Nothing in the world could be stupider than French poetry," she muttered. "How am I to get this into my head? What a nuisance Olive is with her stories—she[Pg 46] has disturbed my train of thoughts. Certainly, it's no affair of mine what that detestable wild Irish girl does. I shall always hate her, and whatever happens I can never get myself to tolerate Evelyn. Now, to get back to my poetry. I have determined to win this prize. I won't think of Evelyn and Bridget any more.""Miss Collingwood," said Marshall, in a timid whisper, "might I say a word to you, miss?"CHAPTER I. CURIOSITY.
"It's a distinct insult," began Dolly. "I disapprove—I disapprove."
"Don't do that, Bridget," said Miss Patience; "you are disturbing me."
She stepped out of the open window, and walked rapidly across the wide gravel sweep.
"Why, Dorothy Collingwood; she has gone over to the ranks of the enemy."