Ruth Bury was short and dark, but Janet May, her companion, was extremely slim and fair. She would have been a pretty girl but for the somewhat disagreeable expression of her face.
The school stood on the side of a hill, which faced downward to the sea. Its aspect was south, and it was sheltered from the east and west winds by a thick plantation of young trees, which looked green and fresh in the spring, and were beginning already to afford a delightful shade in hot weather.
"She's not learned, I admit," replied Olive, "but weak! no, she's not weak; no weak character could be so audacious, so fearless, so indifferent to her own ignorance.""I'd make it up if I was you, miss," she said."It's a distinct insult," began Dolly. "I disapprove—I disapprove."
She was not present, however, and did not, indeed, put in an appearance in the breakfast room until the meal was half over.
The children disappeared in as frantic haste to be off as they were a few minutes ago to arrive.
"Miss Collingwood," said Marshall, in a timid whisper, "might I say a word to you, miss?"
It would have been impossible for a much colder heart than Dorothy Collingwood's to resist her.
"Well, I'm here," she said; "what is it?" She still used that half-mocking, indifferent voice.
"If she had any strength, she'd be ashamed of her ignorance," retorted Janet.