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.The carriage lay smashed a couple of hundred yards from the gates of the avenue."I wish you'd say what you think about Bridget. Isn't she past enduring, getting all the little ones to disobey like this? Why, she might be expelled! Yes, Janet; yes, I'm going. You needn't look at me as if you'd like to eat me!"
Mrs. Freeman sighed as she said these words.
Bridget's excitable eager words were broken by sobs; tears poured out of her lovely eyes, her hands clasped Dorothy's with fervor.
The door was closed then, and Bridget O'Hara found herself alone."But Mrs. Freeman said——" she began.Miss Collingwood was turning away, when her mistress stretched out her hand and drew her back.
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"Oh, good gra——! I mean, mercy Moses!""How solemnly you speak," said Bridget, tears [Pg 32]coming slowly up and filling her eyes. "Is that a sermon? It makes me feel as if someone were walking over my grave. Why do you say things of that sort? I'm superstitious, you know. I'm very easily impressed. You oughtn't to do it—you oughtn't to frighten a stranger when she has just come over to your hard, cold sort of country."
"Yes, certainly. Let me introduce you to someone in particular. Janet May, come here, my dear."
Bridget slipped her hand into her pocket, and pulled out an exquisitely embossed vinaigrette.