"As to disliking Miss O'Hara, it's more a case of despising; she's beneath my dislike.""Go on; tell us quickly what you did with the candle, Biddy!" cried little Violet, pulling her new friend by the arm."Here you are," exclaimed the two pairs of lips eagerly.
Her first impulse was to open the door of her prison and go boldly out.
"Poor darling!" said Olive, in a sympathetic tone. "I thought I'd tell you, Janet, that whatever happened I'd take your part.""Why did you speak so sharply to her, Olive?" exclaimed Dorothy. "After all, her curiosity is but natural—I must even own that I share it myself."She looked at her friend with a cool, critical eye.
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For some reason her companions, both old and young in the school, had taken upon themselves to cut her.
"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."
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Long may she stay there! Now, do let us drop this tiresome subject. We have only ten minutes to ourselves before the rest of the committee arrive, and that point with regard to Evelyn Percival must be arranged. Come, Dorothy, let us race each other to the Lookout!"
There was a sound, a commotion. Several steps were heard; eager voices were raised in expostulation and distress.
"Am I ever hard to my pupils, my love?"
The governess took it without a word, and opening it applied it to Evelyn's nostrils.