"Pain and anxiety! I like that! You are just angry with me—that's about all!"Bridget was evidently not blessed with the bump of order. Valuable rings and bracelets lay, some on the mantelpiece, some on the dressing table; ribbons, scarfs, handkerchiefs, littered the chairs, the chest of drawers, and even the bed. A stray stocking poked its foot obtrusively out of one of the over-packed drawers of the wardrobe. Photographs of friends and of scenery lay face downward on the mantelpiece, and kept company with Bridget's brushes and combs in her dressing-table drawer."Pretty," interrupted Janet, scorn curling her lip.
"As I was saying," began Janet——
They were both undressing when she entered the room this evening, but the moment she appeared they rushed to her and began an eager torrent of words.
"I could not help myself," replied Dorothy. "You know, of course, Janet, what Bridget did last night?"
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"Please wait one moment, Mrs. Freeman."
What a fuss everyone was making about that stupid Evelyn Percival. Here was the head mistress even quite in a fume because she was a minute or two late in putting in an appearance.Bridget's face turned very white. She looked wildly toward the door, then at the window.
Mrs. Freeman breathed a sigh of relief.
When Mrs. Freeman told Bridget to go away and leave her, the Irish girl stopped playing with the tendrils of hair on Evelyn's forehead, and looked at her governess with a blank expression stealing over her face.