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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 [Pg 30]to another, ruthlessly pulling the large, full-blown flowers with buds attached."Oh, papa'll pay that! Don't you fret about that, Mrs. Freeman; the dear old dad will settle it. He quite loves writing checks!""If I had only some smelling salts," she began.

In all her life Bridget had never been cut before."O Bridget!" exclaimed the little girls, starting back in affright.

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"Yes, but at what?"

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.""What about Evelyn?" inquired Dorothy.

"I have some more things to say. I must get you, Bridget, before you leave this room, to make a promise."

"I don't hear any sound whatever, Mrs. Freeman," she said, "but please don't be alarmed; Evelyn's train may have been late."