The Rebel of the School by L. T. Meade
page 30 of 393 (07%)
page 30 of 393 (07%)
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"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.'" |
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