She stood wavering with her own conscience. Caspar was nervous, but he was not vicious."Yes, what is it?"
Bridget's excitable eager words were broken by sobs; tears poured out of her lovely eyes, her hands clasped Dorothy's with fervor.Steps—several steps—were heard clattering up the stone stairs of the little tower, and two or three girls of the middle school, with roughly tossed heads and excited faces, burst upon the seclusion of the four sixth-form girls."Oh, if you take it up in that way," said Olive; but her words had a faint sound about them—she was a girl who was easily impressed either for good or evil.
"Pretty," interrupted Janet, scorn curling her lip.
"Love me," she pleaded; "do love me, for I love you."[Pg 64]
"But Mrs. Freeman wants you to go to bed early to-night."
"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!"