"He'll be sorry he sent me; he'll be sorry he listened to Aunt Kathleen," she said to herself.Janet was forced to comply, and Dorothy exclaimed eagerly: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.
"No, no; what nonsense you talk! What is there to be frightened about? Do go; I can't learn this difficult French poetry while you keep staring at me!"
"Nonsense, Evelyn. They disobeyed my most stringent orders. Are they not to be blamed for that?"All that could possibly happen would be a little fright for Evelyn, and a larger measure of disgrace for Bridget. And why should Janet interfere? Why should she tell tales of her schoolfellows? Her story would be misinterpreted by that faction of the girls who already had made Bridget their idol.She was coming at mid-term, which in itself was rather exceptional.
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"Janet May. This is the schoolroom where the[Pg 16] sixth form girls do their lessons. We have a desk each, of course. That room inside there is for the fifth form. I wonder which you will belong to? How old are you?"
"Yes, Marshall," said Dorothy; she stopped. Janet stopped also, and gave Marshall a freezing glance."She was interceding for Bridget," said Dorothy."I must have a cupboard like that," said Biddy. "Why, it's perfectly delicious!"
"You can please yourself about that," said Miss Patience, in her calmest voice. She left the room, closing the door behind her.
For the first time there was a faint hesitation in her manner.
"What is it, my dear?" The head mistress drew herself slightly up, and looked in some surprise at her pupil.