Bridget's arms were flung impulsively round her governess's neck, and then one hand was tucked within the good lady's arm.Dorothy shared the same bedroom as Ruth and Olive. Each girl, however, had a compartment to herself, railed in by white dimity curtains, which she could draw or not as she pleased. Dorothy's compartment was the best in the room; it contained a large window looking out over the flower garden, and commanding a good view of the sea. She was very particular about her pretty cubicle, and kept it fresh with flowers, which stood in brackets against the walls.
The door was closed then, and Bridget O'Hara found herself alone.
When the servant answered her summons, she desired her to ask Miss O'Hara to come to her immediately."What poor dear young lady?"
"Pretty," interrupted Janet, scorn curling her lip.
"Pretty," interrupted Janet, scorn curling her lip."I suppose I may go," she said, "if that's all you have got to say?""I expect I shan't be allowed to talk at all.""Oh, foolish do you call it?" A passing cloud swept over Bridget O'Hara's face. It quickly vanished, however; she jumped up with a little sigh.
Miss Percival's accident, and Bridget O'Hara's share in it, were the subjects of conversation not only that night, but the next morning.
"No, no—do forgive me!"