"I suppose you are quite in love with her?"
"No, I don't think I am. It isn't my way to fall violently in love with girls, like some of the rest of you. But I like her; and I like Alice Tennant."
"All the same," said Susy, "it is worth sacrificing a little thing to belong to the Wild Irish Girls. Did you ever in all your life see any one look more splendid than Kathleen as she stood with the light of those big lamps upon her? She is a wonderful girl—so graceful, and with such a power of eloquence. And she has such a way of just taking you by storm; and her language is so poetic. Oh, I adore her! She is the sort of girl that I could die for. If all Irish girls are like her, Ireland must be a wonderful country to live in."
"But they are not," said Ruth. "Half of them are quite commonplace. She happens to be rich and beautiful, and to have a taking way; but all the others are not like her, I am certain of it."
"Anyhow, whether they are or not, I am glad to belong to the society," said Susy. "It will give us great fun, and we need not mind now whether the paying girls are disagreeable to us or not. Then, too, think of the blouses we have got. Oh dear! oh dear! when I put mine on on Sunday mother will gape. I shall feel proud of myself in it. It was just sweet of her to get things like this to give us. And she knew we weren't well off. Oh, I do think she's one in a thousand! She must have thought of you, Ruth, when she ordered these sweet pale-blue colors, for that color is yours, isn't it?"
"I suppose so," said Ruth. "Well, all the same, I feel rather anxious. I like her, of course, but I think she is mistaken. I must go on now, but I feel somehow——"
"What?" said Susy, with some impatience.
"As though I had not done right—as though I had something to conceal. Well, I can't help myself, only I won't hate the girls who are good to me. Good-night, Susy. We won't be in time for school in the morning if we stay talking any longer."