"I ought not to speak," said Dorothy, turning very red, "but if you are going to be hard on Bridget——"Although the booming sound of the great gong filled the air, the supper to which the head girls of the school were now going was a very simple affair. It consisted of milk placed in great jugs at intervals down the long table, of fruit both cooked and uncooked, and large plates of bread and butter.
Mrs. Freeman could not help uttering a faint, inward sigh.
Bridget stood and watched her. Olive kept a little apart, and the smaller girls clustered close together, watching their new friend's face with interest and admiration.The door was closed then, and Bridget O'Hara found herself alone.
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On this special night in the mid-term the girls who were ignominiously obliged to retire to their bedrooms felt a sorer sense of being left out than ever.
She did not attempt to rise to her feet, however, and Mrs. Freeman was far too much absorbed to take any further notice of her.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 children disappeared in as frantic haste to be off as they were a few minutes ago to arrive.
"No, Bridget, you are to stay here; your dinner will be brought to you." Bridget flushed crimson.