"Oh, that doesn't matter, the knowledge will remain with you. We have a very nice, quiet lady's horse, called Miss Nelly, in the stables; you shall ride her."
"But I haven't a habit," said Janet.
"I have a nice little one which I have quite outgrown. Come to my room, and let me try if it will fit you; I am almost sure it will."
"All right," replied Janet; "I should enjoy a ride very much."
She hoped that during this ride she would be able to tell Bridget that she had secured the obnoxious letter, and the first step of putting the young girl completely in her power would begin.
She went with Miss O'Hara to her bedroom—an enormous room furnished with oak, and strewn all over with costly knickknacks and ornaments. The three large windows commanded an extensive view. They were wide open, and Bridget when she entered the room went straight up to the center one, and, clasping her hands, said in a low voice of passion:
"How I love you!"
"What do you love, Bridget?" asked Janet.
"My land—my Ireland," she said. "Oh, you can't understand. Please help me to open this long drawer. I'll soon find your habit."
Janet assisted her with a will; the heavy drawer was tugged open, and a neat dark blue habit, braided with silver, was pulled into view.