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"Well, I'm here," she said; "what is it?" She still used that half-mocking, indifferent voice.

"It is not the custom at school, my dear child, to make remarks about what we eat. We just take what is put before us. Here's a nice piece of bacon, dear, and some toast. Don't say anything more, I beg, or you will annoy Mrs. Freeman."

Janet sprang from her seat with apparent alacrity."Oh, I am sorry!""Just play the piece over to me," she said to her master. "I'll do it if you play it over. Yes, that's it—tum, tum, tummy, tum, tum. Oughtn't you to crash the air out a bit there? I think you ought. Yes, that's it—isn't it lovely? Now let me try."

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"Cross-patch!" murmured Violet, turning her back on Janet. "Come, Marion; come, Pauline, we won't tell her any more. We'll tell you, Dolly, of course, but we won't tell Janet. Come, Marion, let's go."

"O Bridget!" exclaimed the little girls, starting back in affright.Janet was there, busily preparing her French lesson for M. le Comte. She was a very ambitious girl, and was determined to carry off as many prizes as possible at the coming midsummer examinations. She scarcely raised her eyes when Olive appeared.

"O Dolly," they exclaimed, running up to their favorite, "she has come—we have seen her! She is very tall, and—and——"

A flash of self-pity filled her eyes, but there was some consolation in reflecting on the fact that no one could force her to eat against her will.

While Marshall was speaking she looked down at the pretty and rebellious young prisoner with marked interest.

"And you also dislike poor Bridget? I can't imagine why you take such strong prejudices."