"You deny that she's weak," repeated Janet. "I wonder what your idea of strength is, Olive.""It is more than a pity, Bridget," said her governess in a severe tone. "I am sorry to have to open your eyes, my dear child; but in picking any of my roses you have taken an unwarrantable liberty."Mrs. Freeman could scarcely restrain her impatience.
"Yes, you ought. I'm going to give you a lovely description. Papa has had his dinner, and he's pacing up and down on the walk which hangs over the lake. He is smoking a meerschaum pipe, and the dogs are with him."
"Janet, I wish you would not speak in that bitter way."
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"You can please yourself about that," said Miss Patience, in her calmest voice. She left the room, closing the door behind her."Oh, oh, oh! if you're going to take her part, that is the last straw."
She was in every sense of the word an untamed creature; she was like a wild bird who had just been caught and put into a cage."No, Bridget, you cannot. You have been sent here to be under my care, and you must remain with me at least until the end of the term."From where they stood they obtained a very distinct although somewhat bird's-eye view of the winding avenue and quickly approaching carriage. Mrs. Freeman's tall and familiar figure was too well known to be worthy, in that supreme moment, of even a passing comment. Miss Patience looked as angular and as like herself as ever; but a girl, who sat facing the two ladies—a girl who wore a large shady hat, and whose light dress and gay ribbons fluttered in the summer breeze—upon this girl the eyes of the four watchers in the "Lookout" tower were fixed with devouring curiosity.
As she cut the blossoms off, she flung them into her white skirt, which she had raised in front for the purpose. Now, as she ran to meet Mrs. Freeman, the skirt tumbled down, and the roses—red, white, and crimson—fell on the ground at her feet.