"
"But you like Miss Tennant don't you?" said Ruth.
"Oh, yes. Poor little Alice! She's very reserved and very, very formal,
but she's a good soul, and I won't worry her. But you are the one my
heart has gone out to. Ah! that is the way of Irish hearts. They go
straight out to their kindred spirits. You are a kindred spirit of mine,
Ruth Craven, and you can't get away from me, not even if you will."
The fifteen minutes for recreation came to an end, and the girls
returned to the schoolroom. Ruth was in a high class for her age, and
was already absorbed in her work. Kathleen drummed with her fingers on
her desk and looked round her. Kathleen was in a low class; she was with
girls a great deal smaller and younger than herself.
"How old are you, Miss O'Hara?" the English teacher, Miss Dove, had
said.
"I am fifteen, bless your heart, darling!" replied Kathleen.
"Don't talk exactly like that," said Miss Dove, who, in spite of
herself, was attracted by the sweet voice and sweeter eyes. "Say, 'I am
fifteen, Miss Dove.'"
Kathleen made a grimace. Her grimace was so comical that all the small
girls in the class burst out laughing. She was silent.
"Speak, dear," said Miss Dove in a persuasive tone.
"Yes, darling, I'm trying to."
"You mustn't use affectionate words in school."
"Oh, my heart! How am I to bear it?" said Kathleen, and she clasped a
white hand over that organ.
Miss Dove paused for a moment, and then decided that she would let the
question in dispute go by for the present.
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