"Yes," replied Janet, "I'm to drive in with Marshall. There has been a mistake about some of the confectionery, and Mrs. Freeman wants me to go to Dovedale's, in the High Street, without delay, to order some more cheese cakes, creams, and jellies. Frances Murray ought really to attend to this, for she is to manage the refreshment stall, but she happens to be in bed with a stupid headache. What's the matter, Bridget? How excited you look! and, good gracious, my dear! you have been crying; your eyes have red rims round them."
"I have had a letter from home," said Bridget, "and Pat Donovan is ill: he fell off the ladder and hurt his back. Norah Mahoney wrote about him—she's awfully troubled. Poor Norah, she is engaged to Pat, you know; she's says he's very bad, poor boy!"
"Who in the world is Pat Donovan? and who is Norah Mahoney?" asked Janet, as she hastily drew on her gauntlet gloves. "Friends of yours, of course. But I never heard of them before."
"They are very dear friends of mine," replied Bridget; "they are two of the servants; I love them very much. Poor, poor Pat! Norah has been engaged to him for years and years, and now only to think of his being hurt so dreadfully! Norah wrote me such a sad letter. I'll read it to you, if you like."
"No thanks, my dear; I really have no time to listen to the sorrows of your servants. It is too absurd, Bridget, to go on like that! Why, you're crying again, you great baby! I thought, when you spoke of them, that you meant people in your own rank."
"I won't tell you any more!" said Biddy, coloring crimson. "You have no heart, or you wouldn't speak in that horrid tone! Dear, dear Pat! I'm ten thousand times fonder of him than I am of anyone else in the world, except father and the dogs, and, perhaps, Aunt Kathleen. I used to ride on his shoulder all over the farm when I was quite a little tot!"
"Well, my dear, I must run now. I am sorry that I can't sympathize with you."
"Yes; but, Janet, one moment. I want to send a little present to Pat; I can, for Aunt Kathleen gave me five pounds. I want to send him a post-office order for two pounds, and I want to know if you will get it for me. Here's the letter, all written, and here are the two sovereigns. Will you get a postal order and put it into the letter for me, Janet, and then post it at Eastcliff?"
"But you are going home yourself in a couple of days."
"Oh! that doesn't matter; I wouldn't leave Pat a hour longer than I could help without his letter. You may fancy how fond I am of him, when I tell you that he has the care of Minerva and the pups."