Janet bent her fair face again over the open page; a faint flush had risen in each of her cheeks."Oh, she's telling a story," whispered Olive under her breath. She settled herself contentedly to listen.
"Oh, how very funny—how—how unpleasant. Did you tell papa about that when he arranged to send me here?"
On this special night in the mid-term the girls who were ignominiously obliged to retire to their bedrooms felt a sorer sense of being left out than ever."Oh, good gra——! I mean, mercy Moses!"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.
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Ruth clapped her hands.
In about ten minutes' time Bridget came into the room without knocking. Her hat was still swinging on her arm; there was a wild-rose color on her cheeks; her eyes had a certain excited, untamed gleam in them.
"And if she happens to fancy Bridget she won't mind[Pg 40] a word we say against her. She never does mind what anyone says. You know that, Janet.""Yes, Bridget, very nice—go and take your place, my dear. There, beside Janet May. Another morning I hope you will be in time for prayers. Of course, we make all allowances the first day. Take your place directly, breakfast is half over."
Janet turned away, and Olive was obliged to look out for a fresh companion to attach herself to.