For the past week, Janet May had managed, through her tact and cleverness, to make Bridget's life quite comfortable to her. She had shown her a way in which she could obey the rules and yet not feel the fetters. She imparted to Bridget some of that strange and fatal secret which leads to death in the long run, but which at first shows many attractions to its victims. Bridget might live at the school, and have a very jolly, and even independent time; all she had to do was to obey the letter and break the spirit.

In point of acquirements, Biddy could scarcely hold a place even in the middle school. She had many talents, but her education had never been properly attended to. During the last week, however, she had made rapid progress in her studies; she had been moved up a whole class, and was steadily getting to the top of her present one. Her masters and mistresses praised her, and these words of approval proved themselves extremely sweet, and spurred her on to make genuine efforts in those studies for which she had really a talent. Biddy's English was perhaps her weakest point. Her spelling was atrocious; her writing resembled a series of hieroglyphics; her sums were faulty; her history was certainly fable, not fact.

She could speak French perfectly; her marks, therefore, in this tongue were always good. Now her English, too, began to assume quite a respectable appearance; her sums were invariably correct; her spelling irreproachable; her various themes were well expressed, and her facts were incontestable. She was making her way rapidly through the middle school, and Mrs. Freeman said that she had every reason to hope that so clever a girl might take her place in the upper school by the beginning of the next term.

As it was, Bridget was accorded a few of the privileges of the upper school. One of these privileges was very much prized; she might spend her evenings, once preparation was over, exactly as she pleased.

After Violet's unexpected reproof she came slowly into the house. She had that uncertain temperament which is so essentially Irish; her spirits could rise like a bird on the wing, or they could fall into the lowest depths of despondency.

She had felt gay and joyful while her birthday treat was going on; now as she entered the house she could scarcely drag one leaden step after the other.

Janet was standing in the stone passage which led to the common room, when Biddy passed by.

"I have been waiting for you," she said, in a rather cross voice. "What an age you've been! Surely the treat need not have been followed by a whole wasted hour afterward?"

"I was telling the children a story," said Biddy; "the story was part of the treat."

Janet's thin lips curled somewhat sarcastically.

"Well, come now," she said; "the committee have all assembled in the common room, and we're only waiting for you to begin."

"You must do without me to-night," said Bridget; "I have got a headache, and I'm going to bed." She turned abruptly away, utterly disregarding Janet's raised brows of astonishment, and the faint little disagreeable laugh which followed her as she went upstairs.

Bridget's room adjoined the one occupied by Evelyn Percival. As Bridget was entering her bedroom, Evelyn was coming out of hers.

"Had you a nice treat?" she said, stopping for a moment to speak to Bridget. "You never asked me to come and look on, and I should have enjoyed it so much."

"But you're the head girl of the school; my treat was only for the little ones," said Bridget, in a cold tone.

"I love treats for little ones," said Evelyn, "and I think it was so nice of you to think of it. Aren't you coming down to the committee, Miss O'Hara? This is the evening when we arrange our different contributions. You know, of course, that the bazaar is only a week off."

"I don't care when it is held," said Biddy; "there never was such a stupid fuss made about anything as that bazaar; I'm sick of the subject. No, Miss Percival, I'm not going to join the committee to-night."

"Well, good-night, then," said Evelyn.

She ran downstairs, and Biddy shut herself into her own room and locked the door.

About an hour later the other girls went to bed. Biddy unlocked her door, and getting between the sheets just as she was, in her pretty blue muslin frock, waited until all the house was still. Miss Delicia usually visited the girls the last thing before going to bed. She came into Bridget's room as usual, but noticed nothing wrong. The top of a curly head was seen above the sheet. Miss Delicia stepped lightly on tiptoe out of the room, and a few moments later the large house, with its many inmates, was wrapped in profound silence.

When this silence had lasted about a quarter of an hour, Biddy raised herself on her elbow, and listened intently; then she threw aside the bedclothes, and stepped lightly on to the floor. Her slippers were discarded, and her little stockinged feet made no sound as she walked across the boards. She managed to open her door without its making a single creak, and a few moments later, guided by the moon, she was standing in the deserted schoolroom, and was unlocking her school desk. From out of it she took three very neat looking exercise-books. From each of these books she tore a page. These three pages she deliberately reduced to the minutest fragments; returned the books to her desk, locked it, and went back to bed.

No one had heard her go or come. When she laid her head once more on her pillow a little sob escaped her lips.

"You shan't ever say I'm unhonorable again, Violet," she muttered; some tears stole from under her thick, curly lashes. Two or three minutes afterward she had dropped into profound and peaceful slumber.

The next day at lesson time Bridget O'Hara was in extreme disgrace. She had no exercises, either good or bad, to show; not the most careless or untidy notes had she with regard to her history lesson; her geography had simply not been prepared at all.

Biddy went to the bottom of her class, where she stayed for the remainder of the morning.

She was to learn her lessons during the hours of recreation, and was told by her indignant teachers that she might consider herself in great disgrace.

She received this announcement with complacency, and sat with a contented, almost provoking, smile hovering round her lips.

Morning school being over, the girls went out to play as usual; but Biddy sat in the schoolroom with her sums, history lesson, and geography all waiting to get accomplished.

"You have been a good girl lately, Bridget; you have prepared your lessons carefully and cleverly," said Miss Dent, the English teacher. "I am quite sure, therefore, that you will speedily retrieve the great carelessness of this morning. I am willing to make all allowances for you, my dear, for we none of us forget that yesterday was your birthday. Now, just give your attention to these lessons, and you will have them nicely prepared by dinner time."

"I don't believe I shall," said Bridget, with a comical expression. She bent over her books as she spoke, and Miss Dent, feeling puzzled, she did not know why, left the room.

A moment later Janet came in.

"What is the matter?" asked Janet. "I have just met Miss Dent, who tells me that you failed in your three English lessons this morning. How can that be? Your grammar and English history and geography were perfect last night. They had not a single mistake!"

"You mean," said Bridget, raising her eyes and looking full at, Janet, "that your grammar and geography and English history were perfect last night."

Janet shrugged her shoulders.

"It's all the same," she said. "I told you that I'd help you with your lessons, and I shall keep my word. How is it that you have managed to get into disgrace, after all the trouble I have taken for you?"

"You are never to take it again, Janet; that is all!"

"Never to take it again! Dear me, what a very superior voice we can use when we like! And has our 'first' sweet little 'gem of the ocean' discovered that her own mighty genius can tide her over all school troubles?"

"I'm not going to be afraid of you, Janet," said Biddy. "Of course, you've been awfully kind to me, and I'm not ungrateful. But something—something happened last night which made me see that I've been a mean, horrid, deceitful girl to let you help me at all, and you are not to do it again; that's all."

"What happened last night to open your virtuous eyes?"

"I'm not going to say."

"Have any of the girls found out?"

Janet turned decidedly pale as she asked this question.

"I'm not going to say."

"You don't mean to hint to me, Bridget, that you have told the teachers about what I have done?"

"Of course I haven't, Janet. But I'll tell you what I did do. I went down last night when all the other girls—you among them—were sleeping the sleep of the just, and I tore a sheet out of each of these books; the sheet which you had so carefully prepared for me last night. That's why I had no English lessons, good, bad, or indifferent, to show this morning."

Janet stood quite silent for a moment or two; her delicately formed fingers beat an impatient tattoo on the top of Biddy's desk.

"You can please yourself, of course," she said, after a pause. "You can wade through your lessons as best you can, and sink to your proper position, you great big baby, in the lower school. You have shown a partiality for the little children. You are likely to see enough of them in future, for you will belong to them."

"They are dear little creatures, much nicer than any of the big girls, except Dolly. I'd rather be with them and do right than stay in the middle school, or even the upper, and feel as I did last night."

"It is delightful to see what a tender conscience you have got! I confess I did not know of its existence until to-day, but I congratulate you most heartily on such a priceless possession. It will be a great relief to me, not to have to worry any more about your lessons. For the future I wash my hands of you."

"Am I not to be your chum any more, then, Janet?"

Bridget looked up, with decided relief on her face.

Janet saw the look. Her brow darkened; she had to make a great effort to suppress the strong dislike which filled her breast. Bridget, however, was rich; she might be useful.

"Of course, we are chums still," she said in a hasty voice. "It is your own fault if I don't do as much for you as I promised. You are a great little goose to reject the help which I am giving you. Your father sent you to school in order that you might learn; you can't learn if you are not helped. However, it's your own affair; but if you ever let out to mortal that I gave you this assistance your life won't be worth living, that's all."

"I'm not a bit afraid of your threats, Janet; but I won't tell, of course."

"I say," exclaimed Janet, suddenly rushing to the window, "what a nice carriage, and what fine horses! Who in the world can be coming to Mulberry Court now?"

Bridget had again bent over her lessons. They were hopelessly difficult. It was on the tip of her tongue to say:

"Janet, how am I to parse this sentence?" But she restrained herself.

Janet had forgotten all about her. She was gazing at the beautiful carriage and spirited horses with eyes full of curiosity.

The carriage, a smart little victoria, contained only one occupant. The horses were pawing the ground impatiently now; the lady had disappeared into the house.

"I say," exclaimed Janet, turning to Bridget; but whatever further words she meant to utter were arrested on her lips. There was the swishing sound of voluminous draperies in the passage, a gay, quick voice could be distinguished pouring out eager utterances, and the next moment the room door was opened hastily, and a lady rushed in.

She was immediately followed by Miss Patience, who seemed somewhat amazed.

"Really, Lady Kathleen——" she began.

"Now, my dear Miss Patience, don't interrupt me. I know what a good soul you are; but if you think I'm going to sit in your drawing room waiting until that precious child is brought to me, you are finely mistaken. Ah, and here you are, my treasure! Come into Aunt Kitty's arms!"

"Aunt Kathleen!" exclaimed Bridget.

She rushed from her seat, upsetting a bottle of ink as she did so, and found herself clasped in a voluminous embrace.

"Now that's good," said Lady Kathleen. "I'll write full particulars about you to Dennis to-night. And how are you, my pet? And how do you like school? Are they very cross? Oh, I know them! I was here long ago myself. Patience, do you remember how you used to insist upon punishing the girls, and dear old Delicia used to beg them off? I expect you are just the same as ever you were. Does Miss Patience give you many punishments, my ducky, and does Miss Delicia beg you off?"

"I'll leave you now, Lady Kathleen," said Miss Patience, still in her stiff voice. "If you really prefer staying in this room to the comfortable drawing room, I cannot help it. Of course, you will remain to dinner? Mrs. Freeman will be delighted to see you again."

"Dear Mrs. Freeman! If there's a woman in the world I respect, she's the one. But stay a moment, Miss Patience; I'll come and see Mrs. Freeman another time. I want to take this dear child off with me now to Eastcliff for the day, and I'd be delighted if her young companion would come too. What's your name, my love?"

"May," replied Janet.

"May? What a nice little flowery sort of title. Well, I want you to come and spend the day with me, May."

"My name is Janet May."

"It's all the same, I expect. Now, Miss Patience, may I take these two sweet children to Eastcliff? I'll promise to have them back under your sheltering wings by nine o'clock this evening."

Miss Patience hesitated for a moment, but Lady Kathleen Peterham was not a person to be lightly offended.

"It is very kind of you," she said, "and also most natural that you should wish to have your niece with you. But Janet——"

"Oh, come, come," said Lady Kathleen, with a hearty laugh, "I want to have them both, dear children. Run upstairs, now, both of you, and make yourselves as smart as smart can be. While the girls are getting ready, you and I can have a little talk, Patience. Run, my loves, run, make yourselves scarce."

Bridget and Janet both left the room. All the crossness had now disappeared from Janet's face. She was in high good humor, and even condescended to link her hand inside Bridget's arm as they mounted the stairs to their bedrooms.

Janet had very quiet and very good taste in dress.

She came downstairs presently in a dove-colored cashmere, a black lace hat on her head, and dove-colored gloves on her hands. A pretty black lace parasol completed her ladylike attire. There was nothing expensive about her simple toilet, but it was youthful, refined, and suitable.

Biddy did not return so quickly to the schoolroom. Alas! alas! she was given carte blanche with regard to her dress. Miss O'Hara loved gay clothing. She came out of her room at last bedizened with fluttering ribbons, wherever ribbons could be put. Her dress was of shimmering sea green; she wore a large white hat, trimmed with enormous ostrich feathers; white kid gloves were drawn up her arms. Her parasol was of white lace, interspersed with bows of sea-green velvet. This gorgeous costume had not before seen the light. It suited Biddy, whose radiant sort of beauty could bear any amount of dress. Beside this splendid young person, quiet Janet May seemed to sink into utter insignificance. Miss Patience gave a gasp when Bridget appeared, but Lady Kathleen Peterham smiled with broad satisfaction.

"Ah!" she said, rising from her chair, "I call that costume really tasty. The moment I saw it at Worth's I knew it would suit you, Biddy, down to the ground. No, you naughty child, I'd be afraid even to whisper to you what it cost; but come along now, both of you, or we'll be late for all our fun. Miss Patience, I see you are lost in admiration of Bridget's turn-out."

"I must be frank with you, Lady Kathleen," said Miss Patience. "I consider your niece's dress most unsuitable—the child is only fifteen. A white muslin, with a blue ribbon belt, is the fitting costume for her, and not all that tomfoolery. You'll excuse me, Lady Kathleen; I think you and Mr. O'Hara make a great mistake in overdressing Miss Biddy as you do."

"Oh, come, come," said Lady Kathleen, "Bridget is my poor dear sister's only child, and my brother-in-law and I can't make too much of her. In school hours, of course, she can be as plain as you please, but out of school——" The lady raised her eyebrows, and her expression spoke volumes.

"Come, my dear," she said.

A moment later the gay little victoria was bowling back to Eastcliff, and Lady Kathleen was pouring out a volley of eager remarks to Janet May. The change from the dull routine of school life bewildered and delighted sober Janet; she forgot her habitual reserve, and became almost communicative. Biddy, notwithstanding all her fine feathers, seemed for some reason or other slightly depressed, but Janet had never known herself in better spirits.

"What a sweet companion you are for my niece!" said Lady Kathleen. "You may be quite sure, my love, that I'll tell my brother-in-law all about you. I shouldn't be a bit surprised if he invited you to the Castle for the holidays. I shall be there, and we are going to have all kinds of gay doings. Eh, Biddy, love, what do you say to having your pretty school friend with you? Why, how pensive you look, my deary!"

"When I see you, Aunt Kathleen, I cannot help thinking of father and the dogs," said Bridget abruptly. She turned her head away as she spoke.

"Oh, my darling, the dogs; that recalls something to my mind. Minerva has had four pups, elegant little creatures, thoroughbred, every one of them. Dennis telegraphed their arrival to me last night."

Janet thought this information highly uninteresting, but Biddy's cheeks quite flamed with excitement. She asked innumerable and eager questions, and absorbed all Lady Kathleen's attention until they reached the gay hotel where the lady was staying at Eastcliff.

Lady Kathleen Peterham had a suite of rooms to herself, and no pains were spared to make these as luxurious and beautiful as possible. The wide balconies of her drawing room, which looked directly over the sea, were gay with many brilliant and lovely flowers. They were also protected from the rays of the sun by cool green-and-white striped awnings.

Lunch was ready when the girls arrived, but immediately afterward Lady Kathleen took them out to sit on the balcony with her.

"We will have our ices and coffee here, Johnson," she said to the servant who waited on them.

As she spoke, she sank into a comfortable chair, and taking up a large crimson fan, began to move it slowly backward and forward before her somewhat heated face.

Lady Kathleen was still a very handsome woman. Her blue eyes resembled Bridget's in their brightness and vivacity; but her skin, brows, and hair were much darker, and her expression, although vivacious and winning, had not that charming innocence about it which marked Bridget's young face.

Lady Kathleen was a woman of about five-and-thirty. She was made on a large scale, and the first slenderness of youth was already lost. She had seen a great deal of what she called "life," for she had married early, and had lived almost ever since in Paris with her husband.

Hers was a somewhat frivolous nature. She was imprudent, injudicious, incapable of really guiding the young; but, at the same time, she was the soul of good nature, and would not willingly have hurt the smallest living creature.

Janet could not help being greatly impressed by Lady Kathleen. If there was one point more strongly developed than another in Janet's character it was her worldliness. She was a lady by birth, but she was poor. Some day Janet knew that she would have to earn her own living. She had the most intense respect, therefore, for those people who were blessed with an abundance of this world's goods. Hers was naturally a cold, cynical, and calculating nature. Bridget was, in reality, not in the least to her taste, but the rumors of Bridget's wealth had always been pleasant to listen to. On account of these rumors, Janet had done what she considered good service to the willful and headstrong schoolgirl.

She felt highly pleased now with her own worldly wisdom, as she sat under the shelter of the green-and-white awning, and ate strawberry ices, and sipped her coffee.

Lady Kathleen was, in all respects, a woman to Janet's taste. She had the savoir faire which impresses young girls. Janet's respect for Bridget increased tenfold when she saw that she was related to such a woman, and she wondered to herself how the aunt could have so much style and the niece be so gauche.

Lady Kathleen, who was determined to make the day delightful to her young companions, questioned Janet eagerly with regard to her school and school pursuits.

"Now, my darling," she said, "you must tell me about your little world. I know what school is. I was at school myself for many a weary year. At school there always is a big excitement going on. What's the present one?"

Biddy had seated herself close to the edge of the balcony, and was looking out over the sea. She was thinking of the Castle, and of Minerva, and of the cherished litter of pups; of her father's excitement, and Pat Donovan's raptures, and Norah Mahoney's comments.

She saw the Irish serving man and woman gesticulating and exclaiming; she saw her father's white hair and weatherbeaten, eagle face, and could almost hear his deep tones of satisfaction as he bent over Minerva, and patted her wise head.

"Biddy!" shrieked Lady Kathleen; "Biddy, child, wake up! What in the world have you gone off into one of those brown studies for? Here's this dear little Janet telling me that you're going to have a Fancy Fair at Mulberry Court."

"Oh, yes, Aunt Kathie," said Bridget; "I believe we are."

"Well, child, and isn't that a bright, lively sort of amusement for you? And the bazaar is to be for a charitable object, too? Splendid! splendid! Why, Dennis will be quite delighted when I tell him. I always said the Court was the right school for you, Biddy. It gives a sort of all-round training. It isn't only accomplishments—tinkle, tinkle on the piano, and that sort of thing—hearts are also thought of, and trained properly to think of others. Well, darlings, I'm very much pleased about the bazaar, and this good little Janet tells me that it is her idea; most creditable to her. You are the head of the whole thing, are you not, Janet?"

"No," said Janet, trying to speak in a calm, indifferent voice; "of course I don't mind; I can't mind, but one of Mrs. Freeman's strictest rules is that seniority goes before all else. I am not the head girl of the school, Lady Kathleen; the head girl's name is Evelyn Percival, and, although I was the one to think of the Fancy Fair, and although Evelyn was away from the school during the first two or three weeks while the matter was being planned out and we were getting materials ready for our stalls, still, the moment she came home, Mrs. Freeman insisted on our asking her to join the committee, and since then she has taken the lead, and hers will be the principal stall on the day of the fair."

"And you'll be nowhere, so to speak?" said Lady Kathleen.

"Well, I don't know that; I hope to have a pretty stall too; Bridget is helping me with my stall; aren't you, Biddy?"

"I don't know that I am," replied Bridget. "Father sent me a little money to buy a few pretty things, and that was about all that I could do. I love pretty things, but I am no worker."

She turned away as she spoke, and once more looked out over the sea with longing in her eyes.

Lady Kathleen had a keen perception of character. Janet had spoken in a very quiet, subdued voice, but the fact was by no means lost on the good lady that she was terribly chagrined at the position she was obliged to occupy at the fair.

"Confess, my little one; you don't like being second," she said, bending over her and tapping her fair head with the large crimson fan.

Janet colored faintly. "'What can't be cured,'" she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Lady Kathleen took up the proverb and finished it. "'Must be endured,'" she said. "But I don't believe that this position of affairs can't be cured. It strikes me as extremely unfair that you should have had the trouble of getting up this fair, and then that you should be pushed into a second position. I don't care if fifty Mrs. Freemans say you are not to be first. I don't choose that my niece, Bridget O'Hara, should have anything to do with a second-rate stall; or a second-rate position. Wake up, Biddy, child, and listen to me; I insist upon one thing—you and Janet are to be first on the day of the fair."

Janet's eyes began to sparkle, and the faint glow in her cheeks grew bright and fixed. Her eager expression spoke volumes, but she did not utter a word. Bridget, however, exclaimed wearily:

"Oh, what does it matter who is first! Besides, whether you like it or not, Aunt Kathie, you can't alter matters. Mrs. Freeman is mistress in her own school; and if she decides that Evelyn is to take the lead, Evelyn will take the lead, no matter whether you wish it or not, fifty times over."

"My good little Biddy, you are a bit of an innocent for all you are growing such a fine big girl—the pride of your father's heart, and the light of your old auntie's eyes! Little Janet has more wisdom than twenty great handsome creatures like you. Now, my pets, you listen to me; we'll manage this matter by guile. Miss Percival may have the first stall at the bazaar, if she likes. Who cares twopence about that? You, Janet, and you, Biddy, will have the stall that all the visitors will flock to. You leave me to manage the matter; I'll make your stall so lovely that all the others will sink into insignificance."

"Oh, will you?" exclaimed Janet; "how—how good you are!"

"I will do it, my dear, I certainly will; the honor of the O'Haras is involved in this matter. Now, girls, you just put on your hats, and we'll go round Eastcliff, and see if we can't pick up a basketful of pretty trifles for you to take home with you this evening. Of course, they will be nothing to what will presently follow, but they'll just do for a beginning. You leave it to me, my loves; leave it all to me. This great, grand, wise Evelyn Percival can't compete with Paris and the Rue Rivoli; you leave it all to me."

"How kind you are," said Janet again.

"Don't thank me," said Lady Kathleen, rising; "it's for the honor of the O'Haras. Whoever yet heard of an O'Hara eating humble pie, or taking a second position anywhere? Now, girls, run into my room, and make yourselves smart as smart can be, for we have plenty to do with our time, I can assure you."

The rest of the day passed for Janet in a sort of delicious dream. Money seemed as plentiful to Lady Kathleen Peterham as the pebbles on the seashore. Janet almost gasped as she saw the good lady take one gold piece after another out of her purse to expend on the merest nothings. Lady Kathleen had exquisite taste, however, and many useless but beautiful ornaments were carefully tucked away in the large basket which was to be taken to Mulberry Court that evening.

"I shall go to Paris on Monday," said Lady Kathleen; "I will telegraph to my husband to expect me. When is your bazaar? next Thursday? I shall be back at Eastcliff on Wednesday at the latest. One day in Paris will effect my purpose. I mean to attend this bazaar myself, and I mean to bring several friends. Do your best, loves, in the meantime to make as creditable a show as possible, but leave the final arrangements, the crowning dash of light, color, and beauty to me."

When the two girls were starting for Mulberry Court in the evening, Lady Kathleen opened her purse and put five golden sovereigns into Biddy's hand. "I don't know how you are off for pocket money, my pet," she said, "but here's something to keep you going. Now, good-night, dears; good-night to you both."