"I think you must be mistaken, Sarah," said Miss Delicia to her friend. "I know my sister, Mrs. Freeman, thinks that Bridget, with all her faults, has a fine character. I heard her saying so to Patience one day. Patience, poor dear, just lacks the very thing she was called after, and Henrietta said to her: 'The material is raw, but it is capable of being fashioned into something noble.' I must say I agreed with Henrietta."
"My dear Delicia," responded the other lady, "am I unjust, suspicious, or wanting in charity?"
"No, Sarah; Patience—poor Patience—does fail in those respects occasionally; but no one can lay these sins to your door."
"I am glad to hear you say so. Now you must listen to the following facts. You know what a queer medley that poor girl's mind is in; she has a good deal of knowledge of a certain kind: she has poetic fancy, and brilliant imagination, she has a lovely singing voice, and the expression she throws into her music almost amounts to genius; nevertheless, where ordinary school work is concerned, the girl is an absolute ignoramus. Her knowledge of geography is a blank. Kamschatka may be within a mile of London, for all she knows to the contrary, Africa may be found at the opposite side of the Straits of Dover; her spelling is too atrocious for words. As to arithmetic, she is a perfect goose whenever she tries to conquer the smallest and simplest sum."
"Well, my dear," interrupted Miss Delicia, "granted all this, the poor child has been sent to school to be taught, I suppose. I can't see why she should be accused of dishonor because she is ignorant."
"My dear friend, you must allow me to continue. I am coming to my point immediately. When Bridget first came to school, she was placed in the lowest class in the middle school. She was with girls a couple of years her juniors. Mrs. Freeman was much distressed at this arrangement, for Bridget is not only fifteen—she arrived at that age since she came to school—but she is a remarkably developed, grown-up-looking girl for her years; to have to do lessons, therefore, with little girls of twelve and thirteen was in every way bad for her.
"There was no help for it, however, and we had really to strain a point to keep her out of the lower school.
"For two or three weeks Biddy did as badly as any girl with a reasonable amount of brains could. Each day we felt that we must take her out of the middle school. Then occurred that unfortunate accident, when Evelyn Percival was so nearly hurt. That seemed to bring things to a crisis. Bridget was punished, you remember?"
"Yes," said Miss Delicia, nodding her wise head, "I remember perfectly."
"Bridget was punished," continued Miss Dent, "but on that day also she submitted to authority. The next morning she took her usual place in class, but—lo and behold! there was a marked and sudden improvement. Her spelling was correct, the different places in the world began to assume their relative positions. Her sums were more than good. In two or three days she had risen to the head of her class; she was moved into a higher one, and took a high place in that also. This state of things continued for a fortnight; we were all in delight, for the girl had plenty about her to win our interest. All she wanted to make her one of the most popular girls in the school was attention to the rules, and a certain power of getting on at her lessons.