"Don't say 'good gracious,' Bridget; it's a very ugly way of expressing yourself. You have learnt something, haven't you?"
"Learnt something? I should rather think I have. You question me on dogs, their different breeds, and their complaints! Do you know, Mrs. Freeman, what's the best thing to do for a dog if he shows signs of distemper?"
"I don't mean that sort of learning, Bridget. I mean what you acquire from books—grammar, French, music."
"I adore music; I play by ear all the old Irish jigs and the melodies. Oh, doesn't father cry when I play 'The Harp that once through Tara's Halls,' and 'She is far from the Land,' and 'The Minstrel Boy.' And oh, Mrs. Freeman, even you, though you are a bit old and stiff, could not help dancing if I strummed 'Garry Owen' for you."
"Well, my dear, you must play it for me some evening, but we don't allow strumming at the Court."
"Oh, good gra——! I mean, mercy Moses!"
"That's as bad as the other expression, Bridget."
"I expect I shan't be allowed to talk at all."
"Yes, you will. You'll soon learn to control your tongue and to speak in a ladylike way."