"Now, Marshall, what is it? How fussy and important you look!""What?" said Bridget, coloring high. "Do you mean seriously to tell me that I—I am not to pick flowers? I think I must have heard you wrong! Please say it again!"
Her attempts were extremely good, but when it came to laboriously struggling through her written score, all was hopeless confusion, tears, and despair.
"What does Janet mean?" Bridget would whisper to her nearest companion. "Is she saying something awfully clever? I'm sorry that I'm stupid—I don't quite catch her meaning."The girls took their places at the table—grace was said, and the meal began.
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"I'm very busy, Olive; I wish you'd go away!"
"I could not help myself," replied Dorothy. "You know, of course, Janet, what Bridget did last night?""And isn't she nice to-day?"
Bridget's face turned very white. She looked wildly toward the door, then at the window.[Pg 12]
A loud booming sound filled the air.
It really was too absurd. Janet could not help fidgeting almost audibly.
"I cannot go, Bridget. Mrs. Freeman would not give me leave, and she would be only annoyed at my making such a foolish proposition."