“To be sure, dear—­the most extraordinary idea I ever heard in my life.  Only that I never cross you, Kathleen, I’d have written to know the meaning of it.”

“It doesn’t matter about you knowing.”

Here Kathleen briefly and in graphic language described the Society of the Wild Irish Girls.

“It is the one thing that keeps me alive,” she said.  “However, I’m guessing they are going to make a fuss about it in the school.”

“And what will you do then, core of my heart?”

“Stick to them, of course, aunty.  You don’t suppose I’d begin a thing and then drop it?”

“No; that wouldn’t be at all like you, you young rebel.”.

Kathleen laughed.

“I am all in a puzzle,” she said, “to know where to hold the next meeting, for there is no doubt that some of the girls who hate us because they weren’t asked to join spied last time; so I want the society to meet the night after next in a new place.”

“And I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking,” said Aunt Katie; “that I’ll be present, and bring a sparkle of old Ireland to help the whole affair.  So you’ll have to reckon with me on the occasion of the next meeting.”

Kathleen sat very still, her face thoughtful.

“Nothing will induce me to give them up,” she said, or to betray any girl of my society.  Oh, aunty, there’s such a funny old woman!  I met her last Sunday.  She’s a certain Mrs. Church, and she lives in a cottage about four miles from Merrifield.  We could have our meetings there—­I know we could—­and she’d never tell.  Nobody would guess.  She is the great-aunt of one of the members of the society, Susy Hopkins, a nice little girl, a tradesman’s daughter.”

“Oh, dear me, Kathleen!  You don’t mean to say you demean yourself by associating with tradesmen’s daughters?”

“I do so, aunty; and I find them very much nicer than the stuck-up girls who think no end of themselves.”

“Well, well,” said Miss O’Flynn, “whatever you are, you are a lady born and bred, and nothing can lower that sort—­nothing nor nobody.  You must make your own plans and let me know.”

“I am sure I can manage the old lady, and I will tell you why.  She wants to join our alms-women.”

“What?”

“You know what a snug time our dear old alms-women have.  I was telling Mrs. Church about it last Sunday.  She took a keen desire to belong to us, and I sort of half, in a kind of a way, promised her.  Is there likely to be a vacancy soon, Aunt Katie?”

“Well, dear, there is a vacancy at the present moment.  Mrs. Hagan breathed her last, poor soul! and was waked not a fortnight ago.  We’d better wire to your father to keep the little cottage vacant until we know more.  This is going to be interesting, and you may be quite sure that if there is going to be a lark that I’m the one to help you, my colleen bawn.”

Kathleen and her aunt talked until late into the night, and when the young girl laid her head on her pillow she was lost immediately in profound slumber.