her things about, to take rude possession of her own half of the
room--which, after all, was the better half--was softened by the look
on the girl's face. She knelt for a moment at her bedside and prayed
that God would keep her from quite hating Kathleen. This was a great
deal from Alice, who had made up her mind never to be friends with the
Irish girl. Then she got into bed and fell asleep.

The next morning, quite early, Kathleen was up. She was accustomed to
getting up almost at cock-crow at Carrigrohane, and when Alice opened
her eyes, it was to see an empty bed and an empty room.

"I wonder if she's up to mischief?" she thought.

She got up and went to the window. Kathleen was walking across the
common. She had no hat on, and no jacket. She was stepping along
leisurely, looking up sometimes at the sky, and sometimes pausing as
though she was thinking hard.

"She will catch cold and be ill; that will be the next trouble," thought
the indignant Alice. She sleepily proceeded with her dressing. It was
only half-past seven. The Great Shirley School met at nine. Alice was
seldom downstairs until past eight. When she came down this morning she
saw, to her amazement, Kathleen helping the very untidy maid-of-all-work
to lay the breakfast things. She was dashing about, putting plates and
cups and saucers anyhow upon the board.

"Now then, Maria," she said, "shall I run down to the kitchen and bring
up the hot bacon and the porridge? I will, with a heart and a half. Oh,
you poor girl, how tired you look!"