“And why shouldn't I say it? You would be proud enough to be descended from——”
“Oh, I have a very fine descent of my own,” answered Nora, with spirit.
“Now, if I was like you,” began Biddy, “wouldn't I be proud, just? But dear, dear! there never were two Irish girls farther asunder as far as appearance goes. See here, let me describe myself, feature by feature. Oh, here's a clear pool. I can get a glimpse of myself in it. You come and look in too, Nora. Now, then, we can see ourselves. Oh, holy poker! it's cruel the difference between us. Here's my forehead low and bumpy, and my little nose, scarcely any of it, and what there is turned right up to the sky; and my wide mouth, and my little eyes, and my hair just standing straight up as rakish as you please. And look at you, with your elegant features and your—oh, but it's genteel you are!—and I love you, Nora alannah; I love you, and am not a bit jealous of you.”
Here the impulsive girl threw her arms round her friend's neck and kissed her.
“All the same,” she added, “I wish those clouds were not coming up. It has been so precious hot all day that I should not be the least surprised if we had a thunderstorm.”
“A thunderstorm while we are in the cave would be magnificent,” said Nora.
“Does anything ever frighten you, Nora?”
“I don't think anything in nature could frighten me; but there are some things I am frightened at.”
“What? Do tell me. I should like to know.”
“You'll keep it a secret—won't you, Biddy?”