"Oh, yes, Biddy, oh, yes!" they all cried.
"That's right. I thought you would. We have lots of feasts of this sort at the Castle. The children aren't like you, of course; they live, half of them, down in the cabins near the water's edge, and they come up with their little bare feet, and their curly heads that have never known hat nor bonnet, and their eyes as blue as a bit of the sky, or as black as the sloes in the hedges. Oh, they are pets every one of them, with their soft voices, and their little prim courtesies, and their 'Thank you, kind lady,' and their 'Indeed, then, it's thrue for ye, that I'm moighty honored by ateing in the sight of yer honor.' Ah, I can hear them now, the pets! and don't they like the presents afterward, and don't they send up three cheers for father and me before they go away! They are all having a feast to-night at the Castle in honor of my birthday, and father is there, and all the dogs, but I'm away; I expect they're a bit lonesome, poor dears, without Biddy, but never mind! You have all been very good to let me give you a little feast, my dear darling pets."
There was a great pathos in Biddy's words; the children felt more inclined to cry than to laugh; Dolly felt a lump in her throat, and even Frances looked down on the ground for a second, but when there was a brief pause Frances raised her hand, and waved it slightly as a signal.
This was enough, all the hands were raised, all the handkerchiefs waved, and from every throat there rose a "Hip! hip! hurrah!" and "Three cheers for the Irish princess!"
"Many happy returns of the day," said Frances, and then all the children repeated her words.
"You must not add any more," exclaimed Biddy. "I don't wish to cry; I want to be happy, as I ought to be when you are all so nice and good to me. I may as well say frankly that I did not at all like school at first, but I do now. If you are all affectionate and loving, and if Janet goes on being kind to me, I shall like school, and I shan't mind so much being broken in."
"Poor Biddy," exclaimed Dorothy, turning to her companion; "she reminds me of the lovely silver-winged horse Pegasus. She does not like the taming process."
"No, my dear, that's true," replied Frances; "but Pegasus grew very fond of Bellerophon in the end."
"Only I deny," said Dolly, "that Janet is in the least like Bellerophon."