"Oh, don't I!" said Janet, stamping her small foot.There was a plaintive note in the girl's voice, a wistful expression in her eyes, which went straight to Dorothy's kind heart.The door was closed then, and Bridget O'Hara found herself alone.
"I was going up the staircase," continued Bridget. "I held a lighted candle in my hand. It was an awful night—you should have heard the wind howling. We keep some special windbags of our own at the Castle, and when we open the strings of one, why—well, there is a hurricane, that's all."
Janet was forced to comply, and Dorothy exclaimed eagerly:
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"Go on; tell us quickly what you did with the candle, Biddy!" cried little Violet, pulling her new friend by the arm.
She was coming at mid-term, which in itself was rather exceptional.
"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."