"Don't let go of me, darling, for the life of you. It's lost I'd be in a place of this sort. Let me clutch on to you until they put me into the lowest place in the school."
"But why so?" asked Ruth, glancing at her tall companion in some astonishment. "Don't you know anything?"
"I? Never a bit, darling. I don't suppose they'll keep me here. I have no learning, and I never want to have any, and what's more—"
"Hush, girls! No talking," called the indignant voice of a form-room mistress.
Kathleen's dark-blue eyes grew round with laughter. She suddenly dropped a curtsy.
"Mum's the word, ma'am," she said, and then she glanced round at her numerous companions.
The girls had all been watching her. Their faces broke into smiles, the smiles became titters, and the titters roars. The mistress had again to come forward and ask what was wrong.
"It's only me, miss," said Kathleen, "so don't blame any of the other innocent lambs. I'm fresh from old Ireland. Oh, miss, it's a beautiful country! Were you never there? If you could only behold her purple mountains, and let yourself go on the bosom of her rushing streams! Were you ever in the old country, miss, if I might venture to ask a civil question?"
"No," said Miss Atherton in a very suppressing tone. "I don't understand impertinent questions, and I expect the schoolgirls to be orderly.—Ah, Ruth Craven! Will you take this young lady under your wing?"
"Didn't I say we were to be mates, dear?" said Kathleen