dorothy shared the same bedroom as ruth and olive. each girl, however, had a compartment to herself, railed in by white dimity curtains, which she could draw or not as she pleased. dorothy's compartment was the best in the room; it contained a large window looking out over the flower garden, and commanding a good view of the sea. she was very particular about her pretty cubicle, and kept it fresh with flowers, which stood in brackets against the walls.

ruth and olive slept in the back part of the room. they had a cubicle each, of course, but they had not dorothy's taste, and their little bedrooms had a dowdy effect beside hers.

they were both undressing when she entered the room this evening, but the moment she appeared they rushed to her and began an eager torrent of words.

"well, dolly, have you got rid of that horrible incubus of a girl at last? what a trial she will be in the school! she's the most ill-bred creature i ever met in my life. what can mrs. freeman mean by taking her in? of course, she cannot even pretend to be a lady."

"and there's such a fuss made about her, too," interrupted olive. "a carriage and pair sent to meet her, forsooth, and a separate room for the darling to sleep in. it was good-natured of you to stay with her, dolly;[pg 25] i assure you ruth, and janet, and i could not have borne another moment of her society."

"she's not so bad at all," began dorothy.

"oh, oh, oh! if you're going to take her part, that is the last straw."

"i shan't allow her to be persecuted," said dorothy, with some firmness. "she's the most innocent creature i ever met in my life. fancy a girl of her age, who has simply never had a rebuff, who has been petted, loved, made much of all her days, who looks at you with the absolute fearlessness of a baby, and talks out her mind as contentedly and frankly as a bird sings its song. i grant she's an anomaly, but i'm not going to be the one to teach her how cruel the world can be."

"oh, if you take it up in that way," said olive; but her words had a faint sound about them—she was a girl who was easily impressed either for good or evil.

if dorothy chose to take the new girl's part, she supposed there was something in her, and would continue to suppose so until she had a conversation with janet, or anyone else, who happened to have diametrically opposite opinions to dorothy collingwood.

dorothy went into her own little cubicle, drew her white dimity walls tight, and, standing before the window, looked out at the summer landscape.

she had to own to herself that bridget had proved a very irritating companion. she would take her part, of course; but she felt quite certain at the same time that she was going to be a trial to her. as she stood by her window now, however, a little picture of the scene which the irish girl had described so vividly presented itself with great distinctness before dorothy's eyes.

she saw the wild landscape, the steep gravel path[pg 26] which overhung the lake, the old squire with his white hair, and tall but slightly bent figure, pacing up and down, smoking his pipe and surrounded by his dogs. dorothy fancied how, on most summer evenings, bridget, impetuous, eager, and beautiful, walked by his side. she wondered how he had brought himself to part with her. she gave a little sigh as she shut the picture away from her mind, and as she laid her head on her pillow, she resolved to be very kind to the new girl.

breakfast was at eight o'clock at mulberry court. the girls always assembled a quarter of an hour before breakfast in the little chapel for prayers. they were all especially punctual this morning, for they wanted to get a good peep at miss o'hara.

she was not present, however, and did not, indeed, put in an appearance in the breakfast room until the meal was half over.

she entered the room, then, in a long white embroidered dress, looped up here, there, and everywhere with sky-blue ribbons. it was a charming toilet, and most becoming to its wearer, but absolutely unsuitable for schoolroom work.

"how do you do, mrs. freeman?" said bridget. "i'm afraid i'm a little late; i overslept myself, and then i could not find the right belt for this dress—it ought to be pale blue to match the ribbons, ought it not? but as i could not lay my hand on it, i have put on this silver girdle instead. look at it, is it not pretty? it is real solid silver, i assure you; uncle jack brought it me from syria, and the workmanship is supposed to be very curious. it's a trifle heavy, of course, but it keeps my dress nice and tight, don't you think so?"

[pg 27]

"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."

bridget raised her brows the tenth of an inch. the faintest shadow of surprise crossed her sweet, happy face. then she walked down the long room, nodding and smiling to the girls.

"how do you do, all of you?" she said. "well, janet, good-morning"; she tapped janet's indignant back with her firm, cool hand, and dropped into her place.

"now, what shall i eat?" she said. "by the way, i hope there's a nice breakfast, i'm awfully hungry. oh, eggs! i like eggs when they're very fresh. mrs. freeman, are these new laid? do you keep your own fowls? father and i wouldn't touch eggs at the castle unless we were quite sure that they were laid by sally, sukey, or dear old heneypeney."

a titter ran down the table at these remarks; mrs. freeman bent to pick up her pocket handkerchief, and miss delicia, rushing to bridget's side, began to whisper vigorously in her ear.

"it is not the custom at school, my dear child, to make remarks about what we eat. we just take what is put before us. here's a nice piece of bacon, dear, and some toast. don't say anything more, i beg, or you will annoy mrs. freeman."

"shall i really—how unfortunate; but she doesn't look a bad-tempered woman, and what is there in wishing for fresh eggs? stale eggs aren't wholesome."

"do try not to make such a fool of yourself," repeated janet, angrily, in her ear.

[pg 28]

bridget turned and looked at her companion in slow wonder. janet's remark had the effect of absolutely silencing her; she ate her bacon, munched her toast, and drank off a cup of hot coffee in an amazingly short time, then she jumped up, and shook the crumbs of her meal on to the floor.

"i've had enough," she said, nodding to mrs. freeman in her bright way. "i'm going out into the garden now, to pick some roses."

bridget's movements were so fleet that the head mistress had no time to intercept her; there was a flash of a white dress disappearing through the open window, and that was all.

the eyes of every girl in the room were fixed eagerly on their mistress; they were all round with wonder, lips were slightly parted. the girls felt that a volcano had got into their midst, an explosion was imminent. this feeling of electricity in the air was very exciting; it stirred the somewhat languid pulses of the schoolgirls. surely such an impulsive, such a daring, such an impertinent, and yet such a bewitching girl had never been heard of before. how sweet she looked in her white dress, how radiant was her smile. those pearly white teeth of hers, those gleaming, glancing eyes, that soft voice that could utter such saucy words; oh! no wonder the school felt interested, and raised out of itself.

"my dears," said mrs. freeman, answering the looks on all faces, "your young companion's extraordinary conduct can only be explained by the fact that she has never been at school before. i am going out to the garden to speak to her. you girls will now go as usual to your separate schoolrooms and commence study."

"come, my dears," said miss patience to the girls[pg 29] near her, "let us lose no more valuable time. please don't scrape your chair in that atrocious way, alice. rose, what a poke! susie, hold back your shoulders. now, young ladies, come to the schoolroom quietly; quietly, if you please."

miss patience had a thin voice, and her words fell like tiny drops of ice on the girl's excited hearts. they followed their teachers with a certain sense of flatness, and with very little desire to attend to french verbs and german exercises.

dorothy collingwood ran after mrs. freeman.

"please remember——" she began.

"what is it, my dear?" the head mistress drew herself slightly up, and looked in some surprise at her pupil.

"i ought not to speak," said dorothy, turning very red, "but if you are going to be hard on bridget——"

"am i ever hard to my pupils, my love?"

"no, no—do forgive me!"

"i think i understand you, dorothy," said mrs. freeman. "kiss me!"

miss collingwood was turning away, when her mistress stretched out her hand and drew her back.

"i shall look to you to help me with this wild irish girl," she said with a smile. "now, go to your lessons, my dear."

dorothy ran away at once, and mrs. freeman walked down the garden in the direction where she had just seen a white dress disappearing.

she called bridget's name, but the wind, which was rather high this morning, carried her voice away from the young girl, who was gayly flitting from one rosebush [pg 30]to another, ruthlessly pulling the large, full-blown flowers with buds attached.

"i don't think i ever felt my temper more irritated," murmured the good lady under her breath. "why did i undertake an irish girl, and one who had never been from home before? well, the deed is done now, and i must not show impatience, however i may feel it. bridget, my dear! bridget o'hara! do you hear me?"

"yes, what is it?"

biddy turned, arrested in her gay flight from rosebush to rosebush.

as she cut the blossoms off, she flung them into her white skirt, which she had raised in front for the purpose. now, as she ran to meet mrs. freeman, the skirt tumbled down, and the roses—red, white, and crimson—fell on the ground at her feet.

"bridget, do look," said mrs. freeman; "you have trodden on that lovely bud!"

"oh, i am sorry!"

miss o'hara stooped carelessly to pick it up. "poor little bud!" she said, laying it on her hand. "but there are such a lot of you—such a lot! still, it seems a pity to crush your sweetness out."

"it is more than a pity, bridget," said her governess in a severe tone. "i am sorry to have to open your eyes, my dear child; but in picking any of my roses you have taken an unwarrantable liberty."

"what?" said bridget, coloring high. "do you mean seriously to tell me that i—i am not to pick flowers? i think i must have heard you wrong! please say it again!"

"you are not to pick flowers, miss o'hara; it is against the rules of the school."

[pg 31]

"oh, how very funny—how—how unpleasant. did you tell papa about that when he arranged to send me here?"

"i did not specially mention the flowers, my dear. there are many rules in full force at mulberry court, and the pupils are expected to obey them all."

"how disagreeable! i can't live without flowers. i suppose papa will not expect me to stay if i don't like the place?"

"he will expect you to stay until the end of the term."

"good gracious, why, that's weeks off! i can't live without flowers for weeks! look here, mrs. freeman; is there not to be an exception made for me? papa said, when i was coming here, that my happiness was to be the first thing considered. don't you agree with him? don't you wish me to be very, very happy?"

"i do, my love. but your truest happiness is not secured by giving you your own way in everything."

"oh, but i hate self-denial, and that dreadful motto—'no cross, no crown.' i'm like a butterfly—i can't live without sunshine. papa agrees with me that sunshine is necessary for life."

"so it is, bridget. but you will permit me, an old woman compared to you, to point out a fact—the self-denying people are the happy ones, the selfish are the miserable. take your own way now in your youth, sip each pleasure as it comes, turn from the disagreeables, trample on those who happen to be in your way, as you did on that rosebud just now, and you will lay up misery for yourself in the future. you will be a very wretched woman when you reach my age."

"how solemnly you speak," said bridget, tears [pg 32]coming slowly up and filling her eyes. "is that a sermon? it makes me feel as if someone were walking over my grave. why do you say things of that sort? i'm superstitious, you know. i'm very easily impressed. you oughtn't to do it—you oughtn't to frighten a stranger when she has just come over to your hard, cold sort of country."

"but, my dear child, our hearts are not cold. i assure you, bridget, i am most anxious to win your love, and so also is dorothy collingwood."

"is she? i love her—she is a sweet darling! and you really want me to love you, mrs. freeman? well, then, i will. take a hug now—there, that's comfortable."

bridget's arms were flung impulsively round her governess's neck, and then one hand was tucked within the good lady's arm.

mrs. freeman could not help uttering a faint, inward sigh.

"i must break you in gradually, dear," she said. "as this is your first day at school you need not do any lessons, but you must come with me presently to the schoolroom in order that i may find out something about your attainments."

"my attainments! good gracious, i haven't any!"

"don't say 'good gracious,' bridget; it's a very ugly way of expressing yourself. you have learnt something, haven't you?"

"learnt something? i should rather think i have. you question me on dogs, their different breeds, and their complaints! do you know, mrs. freeman, what's the best thing to do for a dog if he shows signs of distemper?"

[pg 33]

"i don't mean that sort of learning, bridget. i mean what you acquire from books—grammar, french, music."

"i adore music; i play by ear all the old irish jigs and the melodies. oh, doesn't father cry when i play 'the harp that once through tara's halls,' and 'she is far from the land,' and 'the minstrel boy.' and oh, mrs. freeman, even you, though you are a bit old and stiff, could not help dancing if i strummed 'garry owen' for you."

"well, my dear, you must play it for me some evening, but we don't allow strumming at the court."

"oh, good gra——! i mean, mercy moses!"

"that's as bad as the other expression, bridget."

"i expect i shan't be allowed to talk at all."

"yes, you will. you'll soon learn to control your tongue and to speak in a ladylike way."

"i loathe ladylike ways."

"now, my dear child, will you come into the house with me? i ought to be in the schoolroom now."

"please wait one moment, mrs. freeman."

"yes, my dear, what is it?"

"are you going to be cross when you find i don't know your sort of things?"

"i hope not, bridget."

"it will be awfully unfair if you are, for i could pose you finely on my subjects. what's the first thing to do for a dog who shows symptoms of hydrophobia? how do you land a salmon? what keeps a gun from kicking? how does a dear old daddy like his pipe filled with tobacco? what is the best way to keep your seat when you ride bare-backed, and the horse runs away?[pg 34] ha, ha, i thought i'd pose you. i could have a very jolly school of my own, if i tried."

"bridget, my dear, before you come into the schoolroom i must request that you go upstairs and change your dress."

"change my dress! now i really don't understand you. am i to come down in my dressing-gown?"

"no. you are to take off that unsuitable afternoon costume you are now wearing, and put on a neat print dress for your morning work."

"this is the very plainest dress i possess, mrs. freeman; i pulled a lot out of my trunk this morning to look at them. there was a sky-blue delaine with coffee lace, and a pink surah, and——"

"spare me, my dear. i really am in too great a hurry to hear a list of your wardrobe. is it possible that your father sent you to school with all that heap of finery, and nothing sensible to wear?"

"it wasn't father, it was aunt kathleen. she chose my outfit in paris. oh, i do think it's lovely. i do feel that it's hard to be crushed on every point."

"well, dear, you are not to blame. i shall take you to eastcliff this afternoon, and order some plain dresses to be made up for you."

"oh, goodness—no, i mustn't—mercy! nor that either; oh, i—i say, mrs. freeman, don't let the new dresses be frumpy, or i'll break my heart. i do so adore looking at myself in a lovely dress."

"come into the schoolroom with me," said mrs. freeman. she was wondering how it would be possible for her to keep bridget o'hara in her school.