She ceased to fiddle with her apron, and
clasped her two little white hands tightly together.
"My child," said Mrs. Naylor, "your object in coming to school is
doubtless the best object of all."
Ruth raised inquiring eyes.
"I mean," said the little old lady, "that you want to learn all you
can--to gain knowledge and wisdom, to learn goodness and forbearance and
long-suffering and charity."
"Oh, yes," said Ruth, her eyes dilating.
"If," continued Miss Mackenzie, interrupting Mrs. Naylor, and speaking
in a very firm tone--"if, instead of these pleasant things happening, a
little girl learns to join insurrectionists, to forget those to whom she
is indebted for such tremendous advantages, then how do matters
stand--eh, Ruth Craven?"
"I don't understand," said Ruth.
Her trembling and fear had come back to her.
"The dear child is frightened, Miss Mackenzie," said Mrs. Naylor.
"I hope not," said Miss Mackenzie; "but I as chairwoman am obliged to
question her.--Ruth Craven, is it true that you became a member of a
silly schoolgirl society called the Wild Irish Girls, and that you wore
a badge like this?"
Ruth nodded.
"Don't nod to me. Speak."
"It is true," said Ruth.
"Are you now a member of that society?"
"No."
"Why did you join it?"
"Because I loved Kathleen O'Hara."
"She is the promoter, then?"
Ruth was silent.
"You have heard me?"
"Yes, madam."
"Kathleen O'Hara is the promoter?"
Again Ruth was silent.
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