The Rebel of the School | Page 8

as black as jet, and curling and rippling in the sunshine.
"What wouldn't every other girl in the school give to have such a face as that, and such hair as that?" thought Cassandra. "I must speak to her."
She was just bending forward, meaning to touch Ruth on her shoulder, when there came a commotion near the entrance, and the excited face of Alice Tennant came into view. Alice was accompanied by a tall, showily dressed girl. The girl had a very vivid color in her cheeks, intensely bright and roguish dark-blue eyes, light chestnut hair touched with gold--hair which was a mass of waves and tendrils and fluffiness, and on which a little dark-blue velvet cap was placed.
"I am not going to be shy," cried the new-comer in a hearty, clear, loud voice with a considerable amount of brogue in it. "Leave off clutching me by the arm, Alice, my honey, for see my new companions I will. Ah, what a crowd of girls!--colleens we call them in Ireland. Oh, glory! how am I ever to get the names of half of them round my tongue? Ah, and isn't that one a beauty?"
"Hush, Kathleen--do hush!" said Alice. "They will hear you."
"And what do I care if they do, darling? It doesn't matter to me. I mean to talk to that girl; she's won my heart entirely."
Before Alice could prevent her, the Irish girl had sprung forward, pushed a couple of Great Shirley girls out of their places, and had taken Ruth Craven by the arm.
"It's a kiss I'm going to give you, my beauty," she said. "Oh, it's right glad I am to see you! My name is Kathleen O'Hara, and I hail from the ould country. Ah, though! it's lonely I'm likely to be, isn't it, deary? You don't deny me the pleasure of your society when I tell you that in all this vast crowd I stand solitary--solitary but for her; and, bedad! I'm not certain that I take to her at all. Let me tuck my hand inside your arm, sweetest."
A titter was heard from the surrounding girls. Ruth turned very red, then she looked into Kathleen's eyes.
"You mean kindly," she said, "but perhaps you had better not. You, too, are a stranger."
"Are you a stranger?" asked Kathleen. "Then that clinches the matter. Ah, yes; it's lonely I am. I have come from my dear mountain home to be civilised; but civilisation will never suit Kathleen O'Hara. She isn't meant to have it. She's meant to dance on the tops of the mountains, and to gather flowers in the bogs. She's made to dance and joke and laugh, and to have a gay time. Ah! my people at home made a fine mistake when they sent me to be civilised. But I like you, honey. I like the shape of your face, and the way you are made, and the wonderful look in your eyes when you glance round at me. It is you and me will be the finest of friends, sha'n't we?"
Before Ruth could reply the girls had entered the great hall, which presently became quite full.
"Don't let go of me, darling, for the life of you. It's lost I'd be in a place of this sort. Let me clutch on to you until they put me into the lowest place in the school."
"But why so?" asked Ruth, glancing at her tall companion in some astonishment. "Don't you know anything?"
"I? Never a bit, darling. I don't suppose they'll keep me here. I have no learning, and I never want to have any, and what's more--"
"Hush, girls! No talking," called the indignant voice of a form-room mistress.
Kathleen's 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