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It would have been impossible for a much colder heart than Dorothy Collingwood's to resist her."I ought not to speak," said Dorothy, turning very red, "but if you are going to be hard on Bridget——"

"Good gracious, why, that's weeks off! I can't live without flowers for weeks! Look here, Mrs. Freeman; is there not to be an exception made for me? Papa said, when I was coming here, that my happiness was to be the first thing considered. Don't you agree with him? Don't you wish me to be very, very happy?"

"We won't discuss the whys nor the wherefores; the fact remains that I do dislike her.""I adore music; I play by ear all the old Irish jigs and the melodies. Oh, doesn't father cry when I play 'The Harp that once through Tara's Halls,' and 'She is far from the Land,' and 'The Minstrel Boy.' And oh, Mrs. Freeman, even you, though you are a bit old and stiff, could not help dancing if I strummed 'Garry Owen' for you.""Now, Biddy, go on, Biddy!" exclaimed the children. "We love ghost stories, so do tell us more about the candle."She had not passed a pleasant morning, however, and this plan scarcely commended itself to her.

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Dorothy could not restrain her laughter.

"Caspar shied at something," she said.

A slight additional color came into Miss Percival's cheeks.

"And isn't she nice to-day?"