"She's not so bad at all," began Dorothy."I am sorry for you also, my dear. I earnestly desire that you should be a good girl, for the girl is the mother of the woman, and a good girl makes that admirable and priceless treasure—a good woman by and by."Bridget was a fortnight at the school, and had more or less shaken down into her place, when the evening arrived on which Miss Percival was to return.
"How can I possibly guess?"
A flash of self-pity filled her eyes, but there was some consolation in reflecting on the fact that no one could force her to eat against her will."But Mrs. Freeman said——" she began."You know perfectly well what I mean," she answered; "you know who the enemy is—at least you know who is your enemy."
Dorothy suppressed a faint sigh, took her companion's plump hand, and continued the tour of investigation.
"You know perfectly well what I mean," she answered; "you know who the enemy is—at least you know who is your enemy."The carriage lay smashed a couple of hundred yards from the gates of the avenue.
"I certainly want you, Bridget. I am not in the habit of sending for my pupils if I don't wish to speak to them."
"I shall look to you to help me with this wild Irish girl," she said with a smile. "Now, go to your lessons, my dear."
These remarks usually turned the tables against Janet May, but they also had another effect. She began to be sparing of her sharp, unkind words in Bridget's hearing. This, however, did not prevent her hating the new girl with the most cordial hatred she had ever yet bestowed upon anyone.
"Oh, oh, oh! if you're going to take her part, that is the last straw."