"I think you're a great goose," said Janet. "But there's no time to argue. Give me the money, child, and let me go."
"Be sure you post the letter in good time," said Bridget. "Here it is; I haven't closed it."
She laid the directed envelope on Janet's dressing table, put the two sovereigns on the top of it, and ran off.
The whole place was in bustle and confusion. Many of the girls were packing their trunks preparatory to the great exodus which would take place the day after to-morrow. Evelyn and her favorite friends were sitting in the large summerhouse which faced the front of the house. They were chatting and laughing merrily, and seeing Biddy they called to her to come and join them. Her impulse was to rush to them, and pour out some of her troubles in Dolly's kind ears; but then she remembered certain sarcastic sayings of Janet's. Janet's many insinuations were taking effect on her.
"They all look good enough up in that summerhouse," she said to herself; "but according to Janet they are each of them shams. Oh, dear, dear, what a horrid place the world is! I don't think there's anyone at all nice in it, except father and the dogs, and Pat and Norah. Aunt Kathie is pretty well, but even she is taken in by Janet. I don't think school is doing me any good; I hate it more and more every day. I shan't join the girls in the summerhouse; I'll go away and sit by myself."
She turned down a shady walk, and presently seating herself under a large tree, and, clasping her hands round her knees, she began to think with pleasure of the fast approaching holidays.
While Bridget was so occupied, two ladies passed at a little distance arm in arm. They were Miss Delicia and the English mistress, Miss Dent. These two were always good friends; they were both kind-hearted, and inclined to indulge the girls. They were great favorites, and were supposed to be very easily influenced.
When she saw them approach, Bridget glanced lazily round. They did not notice her, but made straight for the little rustic bower close to the tree under which she was sitting.
"I can't account for it," said Miss Dent. "Of course, I have always found plenty of faults in Bridget O'Hara, but I never did think that she would stoop to dishonor."
Bridget locked her hands tightly together; a great wave of angry color mounted to her temples. Her first impulse was to spring to her feet, to disclose herself to the two ladies, and angrily demand the meaning of their words. Then a memory of something Violet had said came over her; she sat very still; she was determined to listen.