“You’d be a queen amongst us; there’s no doubt about that.”

“It would be lovely, and it would be a tremendous bit of naughtiness,” thought Kathleen.

“Do you think you will, miss?  Because, if you do, I will tell the others.  We could meet you and talk over things.”

“Well, I will decide to-morrow.  I will enclose a letter with your brooch.  Good-bye now; I must go in and kiss my darling Ruth.”

Susy Hopkins stood for a minute to watch Kathleen as she went up the little narrow path of Sans Souci.  When Kathleen reached the porch she waved her hand, and Susy, putting wings to her feet, ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction.  She felt very much elated and really pleased.  In the whole course of her life she had never met a girl of the Kathleen O’Hara type before.  Her beauty, her daring and wild manner, the flash in her bright dark eyes, the glints of gold in her lovely hair, all fascinated Susy.

“What a queen she’d make!” she thought.  “We must make her our queen.  We’d have quite a party of our own in the school if she took us up.  And she will; I’m sure she will.  This is a lark.  This is worth a great deal.”

Meanwhile Kathleen rang the bell at Sans Souci in a very smart, imperative manner.  A little maid, neatly dressed, came to the door.

“Please,” said Kathleen, “will you say that Miss O’Hara has called and would be glad to see Miss Ruth Craven for a few minutes?”

The girl withdrew.  Presently she returned.

“Mrs. Weldon will be pleased if you will go in, miss.  She is sitting in the drawing-room.  The two young ladies are out in the garden.”

“Thank you,” said Kathleen.

After a brief hesitation she entered the house, and was conducted across the narrow hall into a very sweet and charmingly furnished room.  The room had a bay-window with French doors; these opened on to a little flower-lawn.  At one side of the house was a tiny conservatory full of bright flowers.  Compared to the house where the Tennants lived, this tiny place looked like a paradise to Kathleen.  She gave a quick glance round her, then came up to Mrs. Weldon.

“I am one of the new girls at the Great Shirley School,” she said.  “My name is Kathleen O’Hara.  I am Irish.  I have only just crossed the cold sea.  I am lonely, too.  I want Ruth Craven.  May I sit down a minute while your servant fetches her?  I like Ruth Craven.  She is very pretty, isn’t she?  She is the sort of girl that you’d take a fancy to when you’re lonely and far from home.  May I sit here until she comes?”

“Of course, my dear,” said Mrs. Weldon, speaking with kindness, and looking with eyes full of interest at the handsome, striking-looking girl.  “I quite understand your being lonely.  I was very lonely indeed when I came home from India and left my dear father and mother behind me.”

“How old were you when you came home?”