RIBBONS AND ROSES.
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.
Ruth and Olive slept in the back part of the room. They had a cubicle
each, of course, but they had not Dorothy's taste, and their little
bedrooms had a dowdy effect beside hers.
They were both undressing when she entered the room this evening, but
the moment she appeared they rushed to her and began an eager torrent
of words.
"Well, Dolly, have you got rid of that horrible incubus of a girl at
last? What a trial she will be in the school! She's the most ill-bred
creature I ever met in my life. What can Mrs. Freeman mean by taking
her in? Of course, she cannot even pretend to be a lady."
"And there's such a fuss made about her, too," interrupted Olive. "A
carriage and pair sent to meet her, forsooth, and a separate room
for the darling to sleep in. It was good-natured of you to stay with
her, Dolly; I assure you Ruth, and Janet, and I could not have borne
another moment of her society."
"She's not so bad at all," began Dorothy.
"Oh, oh, oh! if you're going to take her part, that is the last straw."
"I shan't allow her to be persecuted," said Dorothy, with some
firmness. "She's the most innocent creature I ever met in my life.
Fancy a girl of her age, who has simply never had a rebuff, who has
been petted, loved, made much of all her days, who looks at you
with the absolute fearlessness of a baby, and talks out her mind as
contentedly and frankly as a bird sings its song. I grant she's an
anomaly, but I'm not going to be the one to teach her how cruel the
world can be."
"Oh, _if_ you take it up in that way," said Olive; but her words had a
faint sound about them--she was a girl who was easily impressed either
for good or evil.
If Dorothy chose to take the new girl's part, she supposed there
was something in her, and would continue to suppose so until she
had a conversation with Janet, or anyone else, who happened to have
diametrically opposite opinions to Dorothy Collingwood.
Dorothy went into her own little cubicle, drew her white dimity walls
tight, and, standing before the window, looked out at the summer
landscape.
She had to own to herself that Bridget had proved a very irritating
companion. She would take her part, of course; but she felt quite
certain at the same time that she was going to be a trial to her. As
she stood by her window now, however, a little picture of the scene
which the Irish girl had described so vividly presented itself with
great distinctness before Dorothy's eyes.
She saw the wild landscape, the steep gravel path which overhung the
lake, the old squire with his white hair, and tall but slightly bent
figure, pacing up and down, smoking his pipe and surrounded by his
dogs. Dorothy fancied how, on most summer evenings, Bridget, impetuous,
eager, and beautiful, walked by his side. She wondered how he had
brought himself to part with her. She gave a little sigh as she shut
the picture away from her mind, and as she laid her head on her pillow,
she resolved to be very kind to the new girl.
Breakfast was at eight o'clock at Mulberry Court. The girls always
assembled a quarter of an hour before breakfast in the little chapel
for prayers. They were all especially punctual this morning, for they
wanted to get a good peep at Miss O'Hara.
She was not present, however, and did not, indeed, put in an appearance
in the breakfast room until the meal was half over.
She entered the room, then, in a long white embroidered dress, looped
up here, there, and everywhere with sky-blue ribbons. It was a charming
toilet, and most becoming to its wearer, but absolutely unsuitable for
schoolroom work.
"How do you do, Mrs. Freeman?" said Bridget. "I'm afraid I'm a little
late; I overslept myself, and then I could not find the right belt for
this dress--it ought to be pale blue to match the ribbons, ought it
not? But as I could not lay my hand on it, I have put on this silver
girdle instead. Look at it, is it not pretty? It is real solid silver,
I assure you; Uncle Jack brought it me from Syria, and the workmanship
is supposed to be very curious. It's a trifle heavy, of course, but it
keeps my dress nice and tight, don't you think so?"
"Yes, Bridget, very nice--go and take your place, my dear. There,
beside Janet May. Another morning I hope you will be in time for
prayers. Of course, we make all allowances the first day. Take your
place directly, breakfast is half over."
Bridget raised her brows the tenth of an inch. The faintest shadow of
surprise crossed her sweet, happy face. Then she walked down the long
room, nodding and smiling to the girls.
"How do you do, all of you?" she said. "Well, Janet, good-morning"; she
tapped Janet's indignant back with her firm, cool hand, and dropped
into her place.
"Now, what shall I eat?" she said. "By the way, I hope there's a nice
breakfast, I'm awfully hungry. Oh, eggs! I like eggs when they're
_very_ fresh. Mrs. Freeman, are these new laid? do you keep your own
fowls? Father and I wouldn't touch eggs at the Castle unless we were
quite sure that they were laid by Sally, Sukey, or dear old Heneypeney."
A titter ran down the table at these remarks; Mrs. Freeman bent to pick
up her pocket handkerchief, and Miss Delicia, rushing to Bridget's
side, began to whisper vigorously in her ear.
"It is not the custom at school, my dear child, to make remarks about
what we eat. We just take what is put before us. Here's a nice piece
of bacon, dear, and some toast. Don't say anything more, I beg, or you
will annoy Mrs. Freeman."
"Shall I really--how unfortunate; but she doesn't look a bad-tempered
woman, and what is there in wishing for fresh eggs? Stale eggs aren't
wholesome."
"Do try not to make such a fool of yourself," repeated Janet, angrily,
in her ear.
Bridget turned and looked at her companion in slow wonder. Janet's
remark had the effect of absolutely silencing her; she ate her bacon,
munched her toast, and drank off a cup of hot coffee in an amazingly
short time, then she jumped up, and shook the crumbs of her meal on to
the floor.
"I've had enough," she said, nodding to Mrs. Freeman in her bright way.
"I'm going out into the garden now, to pick some roses."
Bridget's movements were so fleet that the head mistress had no time to
intercept her; there was a flash of a white dress disappearing through
the open window, and that was all.
The eyes of every girl in the room were fixed eagerly on their
mistress; they were all round with wonder, lips were slightly parted.
The girls felt that a volcano had got into their midst, an explosion
was imminent. This feeling of electricity in the air was very exciting;
it stirred the somewhat languid pulses of the schoolgirls. Surely
such an impulsive, such a daring, such an impertinent, and yet such a
bewitching girl had never been heard of before. How sweet she looked in
her white dress, how radiant was her smile. Those pearly white teeth of
hers, those gleaming, glancing eyes, that soft voice that could utter
such saucy words; oh! no wonder the school felt interested, and raised
out of itself.
"My dears," said Mrs. Freeman, answering the looks on all faces, "your
young companion's extraordinary conduct can only be explained by the
fact that she has never been at school before. I am going out to the
garden to speak to her. You girls will now go as usual to your separate
schoolrooms and commence study."
"Come, my dears," said Miss Patience to the girls near her, "let us
lose no more valuable time. Please don't scrape your chair in that
atrocious way, Alice. Rose, _what_ a poke! Susie, hold back your
shoulders. Now, young ladies, come to the schoolroom quietly; quietly,
if you please."
Miss Patience had a thin voice, and her words fell like tiny drops of
ice on the girl's excited hearts. They followed their teachers with a
certain sense of flatness, and with very little desire to attend to
French verbs and German exercises.
Dorothy Collingwood ran after Mrs. Freeman.
"Please remember----" she began.
"What is it, my dear?" The head mistress drew herself slightly up, and
looked in some surprise at her pupil.
"I ought not to speak," said Dorothy, turning very red, "but if you are
going to be hard on Bridget----"
"Am I ever hard to my pupils, my love?"
"No, no--do forgive me!"
"I think I understand you, Dorothy," said Mrs. Freeman. "Kiss me!"
Miss Collingwood was turning away, when her mistress stretched out her
hand and drew her back.
"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."
Dorothy ran away at once, and Mrs. Freeman walked down the garden in
the direction where she had just seen a white dress disappearing.
She called Bridget's name, but the wind, which was rather high this
morning, carried her voice away from the young girl, who was gayly
flitting from one rosebush to another, ruthlessly pulling the large,
full-blown flowers with buds attached.
"I don't think I ever felt my temper more irritated," murmured the good
lady under her breath. "Why did I undertake an Irish girl, and one who
had never been from home before? Well, the deed is done now, and I
must not _show_ impatience, however I may _feel_ it. Bridget, my dear!
Bridget O'Hara! Do you hear me?"
"Yes, what is it?"
Biddy turned, arrested in her gay flight from rosebush to rosebush.
As she cut the blossoms off, she flung them into her white skirt,
which she had raised in front for the purpose. Now, as she ran to meet
Mrs. Freeman, the skirt tumbled down, and the roses--red, white, and
crimson--fell on the ground at her feet.
"Bridget, do look," said Mrs. Freeman; "you have trodden on that lovely
bud!"
"Oh, I am sorry!"
Miss O'Hara stooped carelessly to pick it up. "Poor little bud!" she
said, laying it on her hand. "But there are such a lot of you--such a
lot! Still, it seems a pity to crush your sweetness out."
"It is more than a pity, Bridget," said her governess in a severe tone.
"I am sorry to have to open your eyes, my dear child; but in picking
any of my roses you have taken an unwarrantable liberty."
"What?" said Bridget, coloring high. "Do you mean seriously to tell me
that I--I am not to pick flowers? I think I must have heard you wrong!
Please say it again!"
"You are not to pick flowers, Miss O'Hara; it is against the rules of
the school."
"Oh, how very funny--how--how unpleasant. Did you tell papa about that
when he arranged to send me here?"
"I did not specially mention the flowers, my dear. There are many rules
in full force at Mulberry Court, and the pupils are expected to obey
them all."
"How disagreeable! I can't live without flowers. I suppose papa will
not expect me to stay if I don't like the place?"
"He will expect you to stay until the end of the term."
"Good gracious, why, that's weeks off! I can't live without flowers for
weeks! Look here, Mrs. Freeman; is there not to be an exception made
for me? Papa said, when I was coming here, that my happiness was to be
the first thing considered. Don't you agree with him? Don't you wish me
to be very, very happy?"
"I do, my love. But your truest happiness is not secured by giving you
your own way in everything."
"Oh, but I hate self-denial, and that dreadful motto--'No cross, no
crown.' I'm like a butterfly--I can't live without sunshine. Papa
agrees with me that sunshine is necessary for life."
"So it is, Bridget. But you will permit me, an old woman compared to
you, to point out a fact--the self-denying people are the happy ones,
the selfish are the miserable. Take your own way now in your youth,
sip each pleasure as it comes, turn from the disagreeables, trample on
those who happen to be in your way, as you did on that rosebud just
now, and you will lay up misery for yourself in the future. You will be
a very wretched woman when you reach my age."
"How solemnly you speak," said Bridget, tears 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."
"But, my dear child, our hearts are not cold. I assure you, Bridget, I
am most anxious to win your love, and so also is Dorothy Collingwood."
"Is she? I love her--she is a sweet darling! And you really want me
to love you, Mrs. Freeman? Well, then, I will. Take a hug now--there,
that's comfortable."
Bridget's arms were flung impulsively round her governess's neck, and
then one hand was tucked within the good lady's arm.
Mrs. Freeman could not help uttering a faint, inward sigh.
"I must break you in gradually, dear," she said. "As this is your first
day at school you need not do any lessons, but you must come with me
presently to the schoolroom in order that I may find out something
about your attainments."
"My attainments! Good gracious, I haven't any!"
"Don't say 'good gracious,' Bridget; it's a very ugly way of expressing
yourself. You have learnt something, haven't you?"
"Learnt something? I should rather think I have. You question me on
dogs, their different breeds, and their complaints! Do you know, Mrs.
Freeman, what's the best thing to do for a dog if he shows signs of
distemper?"
"I don't mean that sort of learning, Bridget. I mean what you acquire
from books--grammar, French, music."
"I adore music; I play by ear all the old Irish jigs and the melodies.
Oh, doesn't father cry when I play 'The Harp that once through Tara's
Halls,' and 'She is far from the Land,' and 'The Minstrel Boy.' And oh,
Mrs. Freeman, even you, though you are a bit old and stiff, could not
help dancing if I strummed 'Garry Owen' for you."
"Well, my dear, you must play it for me some evening, but we don't
allow _strumming_ at the Court."
"Oh, good gra----! I mean, mercy Moses!"
"That's as bad as the other expression, Bridget."
"I expect I shan't be allowed to talk at all."
"Yes, you will. You'll soon learn to control your tongue and to speak
in a ladylike way."
"I loathe ladylike ways."
"Now, my dear child, will you come into the house with me? I ought to
be in the schoolroom now."
"Please wait one moment, Mrs. Freeman."
"Yes, my dear, what is it?"
"Are you going to be cross when you find I don't know your sort of
things?"
"I hope not, Bridget."
"It will be awfully unfair if you are, for I could pose you finely on
my subjects. What's the first thing to do for a dog who shows symptoms
of hydrophobia? How do you land a salmon? What keeps a gun from
kicking? How does a dear old daddy like his pipe filled with tobacco?
What is the best way to keep your seat when you ride bare-backed, and
the horse runs away? Ha, ha, I thought I'd pose you. I could have a
very jolly school of my own, if I tried."
"Bridget, my dear, before you come into the schoolroom I must request
that you go upstairs and change your dress."
"Change my dress! Now I really _don't_ understand you. Am I to come
down in my dressing-gown?"
"No. You are to take off that unsuitable afternoon costume you are now
wearing, and put on a neat print dress for your morning work."
"This is the very plainest dress I possess, Mrs. Freeman; I pulled a
lot out of my trunk this morning to look at them. There was a sky-blue
delaine with coffee lace, and a pink surah, and----"
"Spare me, my dear. I really am in too great a hurry to hear a list of
your wardrobe. Is it possible that your father sent you to school with
all that heap of finery, and nothing sensible to wear?"
"It wasn't father, it was Aunt Kathleen. She chose my outfit in Paris.
Oh, I do think it's lovely. I do feel that it's hard to be crushed on
every point."
"Well, dear, you are not to blame. I shall take you to Eastcliff this
afternoon, and order some plain dresses to be made up for you."
"Oh, goodness--no, I mustn't--mercy! nor that either; oh, I--I _say_,
Mrs. Freeman, don't let the new dresses be frumpy, or I'll break my
heart. I do so adore looking at myself in a lovely dress."
"Come into the schoolroom with me," said Mrs. Freeman. She was
wondering how it would be possible for her to keep Bridget O'Hara in
her school.