"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."
Bridget moved restlessly. She looked out of the window. The sun was shining brilliantly, and the grass under the big shady trees looked particularly inviting.
"Bridget, my dear, before you come into the schoolroom I must request that you go upstairs and change your dress."After that period she found her place to a certain extent, made some violent friends and some active enemies, was adored by the little girls, on whom she showered lollipops, kisses, and secrets, and was disliked more or less by every girl in the sixth and fifth form, Dorothy Collingwood excepted.Bridget could certainly not return home without money.
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Mrs. Freeman could scarcely restrain her impatience.
"I could not help myself," replied Dorothy. "You know, of course, Janet, what Bridget did last night?""There, thank Heaven, I haven't killed her!" exclaimed Bridget.
"We'll all be delighted to have her again, of course," said Olive. "And is she really quite well, Miss Delicia?"
Bridget stood by the window, but she heard none of these soothing sounds. Her spoilt, childish heart was in the most open state of rebellion and revolt.
"I know we've all been awfully naughty, but we didn't think Caspar would mind the boughs. He turned sharp round and something happened to the wheels of the carriage—and—and—oh, Mrs. Freeman, do come. I think Evelyn must be dead, she's lying so still."
"Do try not to make such a fool of yourself," repeated Janet, angrily, in her ear.