"Oh, foolish do you call it?" A passing cloud swept over Bridget O'Hara's face. It quickly vanished, however; she jumped up with a little sigh.
"Oh, she's telling a story," whispered Olive under her breath. She settled herself contentedly to listen.
There are times in life when all one's preconceived ideas are completely upset and altered. We looked at the world from a certain point of view. From that special angle of our own it showed in gold and rose color and blue. A day came when we were forced to change our vantage ground, and on that day we for the first time perceived the grays and the blacks of that same old world—it ceased to smile on us, it ceased to pet us—it ceased to say to us, "I was made to render your life beautiful, I was made to minister to every selfish desire of yours; I am your slave, you are my mistress; do with me what you will."
While Janet was speaking, Dorothy, who had refused to seat herself in the armchair assigned to her, and whose clear, bright blue eyes were roving eagerly all over the beautiful summer landscape, exclaimed in an eager voice:[Pg 56]
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"Why, Dorothy Collingwood; she has gone over to the ranks of the enemy."
"I don't think I ought to listen to you, Bridget.""I'd punish her very severely," said Miss Patience. "I am sure punishment is what she wants. She ought to be broken in."
"May I go with the others?" asked Miss O'Hara.
Bridget's arms were flung impulsively round her governess's neck, and then one hand was tucked within the good lady's arm.