"Oh, never mind about bed—I'm not the least sleepy.""No, miss, that it can't," said Marshall, who felt as she expressed it afterward, "that royled by Miss May's 'aughty ways." "I won't keep Miss Collingwood any time, miss, ef you'll be pleased to walk on."
She looked at her friend with a cool, critical eye."And what's the darling's name?" asked Bridget."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?"
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"No, it was that wild Irish girl's doing. I really don't know what to do with her."
Oh, yes, she ought to tell; and yet—and yet——"It is a covered wagon," said Janet. "I see it quite plainly. There is no carriage at all in view, Mrs. Freeman."
"Well, I'm here," she said; "what is it?" She still used that half-mocking, indifferent voice."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.
"Very well, if it must be so, but I shall be very miserable, and misery soon makes me ill."