The Rebel of the School | Page 9

dark-blue eyes grew round with laughter. She suddenly
dropped a curtsy.
"Mum's the word, ma'am," she said, and then she glanced round at her
numerous companions.
The girls had all been watching her. Their faces broke into smiles, the
smiles became titters, and the titters roars. The mistress had again to
come forward and ask what was wrong.
"It's only me, miss," said Kathleen, "so don't blame any of the other
innocent lambs. I'm fresh from old Ireland. Oh, miss, it's a beautiful
country! Were you never there? If you could only behold her purple
mountains, and let yourself go on the bosom of her rushing streams!
Were you ever in the old country, miss, if I might venture to ask a civil
question?"
"No," said Miss Atherton in a very suppressing tone. "I don't
understand impertinent questions, and I expect the schoolgirls to be
orderly.--Ah, Ruth Craven! Will you take this young lady under your
wing?"
"Didn't I say we were to be mates, dear?" said Kathleen O'Hara; and as
they passed from the great hall, Kathleen's hand was still fondly linked
on Ruth's arm.
CHAPTER III.
THE WILD IRISH GIRL.
Lessons went on in their usual orderly fashion. At eleven o'clock there
was a break for a quarter of an hour. The girls streamed into the
playground. The playground was very large, and was asphalted, and in

consequence quite dry and pleasant to walk on. There was a field just
beyond, and into this field the girls now strolled by twos and twos.
Kathleen O'Hara clung to Ruth Craven's arm; she kept talking to her
and asking her questions.
"You needn't reply unless you like, pet," she said. "All I want is just to
look into your face. I adore beauty; I worship it more than anything else
on earth. I was brought up in the midst of it. I never saw anything
uglier than poor old Towser when he broke his leg and cut his upper
jaw; but although he was ugly, he was the darling of my heart. He died,
and I cried a lot. I can't quite get over it. Yes, I suppose I am
uncivilised, and I never want to be anything else. Do you think I want
to copy those nimby-pimby girls over there, or that lot, or that?"
"You had better not point, please, Miss O'Hara," said Ruth. "They
won't like it."
"What do I care whether they like it or not?" said Kathleen. "I wasn't
brought here to curry favor with them. What would my darling father
say if I told him that I was going to curry favor with the girls of the
Great Shirley School? And what would mother say? No, no; I may pick
up a few smatterings, or I may not, but there is one thing certain: I
mean to make a friend of you, Ruth--yes, a great big bosom friend. You
will be fond of me, won't you?"
"I like you now," said Ruth. "I know you are kind, and you are very
pretty."
"Why, then, darling," said Kathleen, "is it the Blarney Stone you have
kissed? You have a sweet little voice of your own, although it hasn't the
dear touch of the brogue that I miss so in all the other girls."
"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