Bridget's eyes were flashing with anger, and her cheeks blazing with excitement.
In this mood she was not to be trifled with.
Janet could not comprehend all her wild words, but she guessed enough to feel an instant sense of alarm. There was danger ahead, and danger always rendered Janet May cool and collected.
"My dear child," she exclaimed, "why do you speak in such a loud, excited voice? Of course, I'll go and talk to you if you really want me. Jones, please take this basket carefully to the house, and if you see Mrs. Freeman tell her that I shall be with her in a few minutes, and that everything is arranged quite satisfactorily for to-morrow. Don't forget my message, Jones."
"No, miss; I'll be careful to remember." The man touched his hat. Janet alighted from the pony trap, and, taking Bridget's hand, walked up the avenue with her.
"Now, you dear little Quicksilver," she exclaimed, "what is the matter? I posted your letter, my love, so that weight is off your mind."
"Thank you, Janet," exclaimed poor Bridget; "you did not forget to put the postal order in, did you?" Janet raised her delicate brows in well-acted astonishment.
"Is that likely?" she exclaimed. "But now, why this excitement? Have you heard fresh news of that valuable Pat, and that delightful Norah?"
"Janet, you are not to talk of the people I love in that tone; I won't have it! I quite hate you when you go on like this. I'm not mean, but I know what you are wanting, and I shall speak to Aunt Kathleen and ask her not to invite you to Ireland if you go on in this way. Aunt Kathleen likes you because she does not know you, but I can soon open her eyes."
Janet put on a mock tone of alarm.