"Up to the present," said Janet, also leaning against the parapet, and exactly facing Evelyn, "up to the present I have managed the proposed bazaar. If it is generally wished, I can still remain treasurer. At the present moment, I am sorry to say, there is very little money to guard. If the thing is to be a success, more money must be spent, but that, of course, is for Evelyn to decide. We are having the bazaar, Evelyn, hoping to raise money to send little Tim Donovan to a good school. Mrs. Freeman said something about this bazaar being repeated, if necessary, in the future; but that, of course, we need not discuss at present. The bazaar is to be called a Fancy Fair. It will be held in a large tent in the four-acre field. This part of the entertainment Mrs. Freeman has herself promised to provide. Our present idea is to have four stalls. You will, of course, conduct the principal one; I, if permitted, will take the second; Dorothy or Frances Murray will manage the third; and there will also be a refreshment stall, for which we have not at present provided. Each girl of the committee has undertaken to secure a certain number of fancy materials for sale at the fair. Ruth, Olive, and I at the present time are doing well; about six little girls of the lower school are helping us. We meet twice a week in the summerhouse at the end of the South Walk to work for the bazaar, and the results will, I believe, be fairly creditable. I cannot say what arrangements Frances is making, but she will doubtless tell you herself. Dorothy is also the soul of industry. You'll probably reconstruct everything, and I shall be ready to come to you for advice whenever you ask me. There is, I think, only one thing more to say, and that is, that I have persuaded the new girl, Bridget O'Hara, to join us. She does not strictly belong either to the upper or the lower school at present. Her position in the house is, I think, somewhat unique. She is a very tall, grown-up-looking girl, but she is not yet quite fifteen years of age. Her mind very much resembles her body, being extremely grown-up in some ways, and absolutely childish in others. Her acquirements are also those of a child. I have thought it right, however, in your absence, of course, Evelyn, to ask her to join us. She has a good deal of originality; she has also some money, which she is willing to devote to the cause. I think that is all. I am now going to join my workers in the summerhouse at the end of the South Walk. You, Ruth, and you, Olive, can come with me if you like, but if you prefer it, you are quite at liberty to join Evelyn's stall, for now that I have got Bridget's help I can do admirably without you."
Ruth and Olive looked more undecided than ever, but Evelyn said in a firm voice: "Of course, girls, you could not for a moment wish to desert Janet. I should like to say one thing before you go, Janet; it is this, that I am very much surprised at your pluck and bravery in getting up a bazaar of this sort. I am pleased to join it, and to do all I can to promote it. Under the circumstances, I should much prefer working as your aide-de-camp to taking the lead; but you are quite right in saying that the head girl of the school has certain privileges which, whether she likes it or not, she cannot forego. I must, of course, take the principal part at the bazaar, but I shall, in every way in my power, do what is most agreeable to you, and will lose no opportunity to let my friends know that the idea is yours, not mine."
"You are very good-natured," said Janet, "but I, too, have something to say. Under the circumstances, I prefer sinking into the background. After all, the only person to be seriously considered is little Tim Donovan. If he is substantially helped I don't suppose it matters much what anyone thinks of us."
CHAPTER XI. A WILD IRISH PRINCESS.
The girls of the lower school were all busy with their preparation. Violet and Rose sat side by side. They had been chums for nearly a year now, and the fact was so fully recognized in the school that even their desks were placed close together. Violet was puzzling her little brains over a very difficult piece of French translation, Rose endeavoring to learn four or five long stanzas from Scott's "Lady of the Lake." They were both clever little girls, and, as a rule, their preparation was quickly over, and their tasks speedily conquered; but to-night there was a holiday feeling in the air; a sense of idleness pervaded everyone. Lessons seemed cruel, and the children rebelled against their tasks. They looked at one another, laughed, yawned, struggled with the listlessness which seized them, shot envious glances at their more studious companions, and absolutely refused to overcome the difficulties of the French translation and the English poetry.
The door between the lower schoolroom and the room occupied by the girls of the middle school had been thrown open, and from where the children sat they could see the pretty flounce of a pale blue muslin dress, and the provoking and exasperating peep of a little, pointed, blue Morocco shoe. The shoe evidently belonged to a restless foot, for it often appeared beneath the flounce, to vanish as quickly, and then to poke itself into notice again.
"It's Biddy," whispered Violet in a low tone to Rose. "I don't believe she's learning her lessons a bit better than we are."
"She never learns them at all," answered Rose. "Janet does them for her now; don't you know that, Violet?"