A Sweet Girl Graduate. Meade L. T.

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СКАЧАТЬ re-dressing, she took her candle in her hand, and softly unhasped her door. It was a well-oiled lock, and made no click or noise of any kind as she turned the handle. When she opened the door wide it did not creak. The long corridor outside had a stone floor, and was richly carpeted. No fear of treacherous, creaking boards here. Priscilla prepared to walk briskly down the length of the corridor, when she was arrested by seeing a light streaming out of Maggie Oliphant’s room.

      The electric lights were all extinguished, and this light alone shone like a ray in the darkness.

      Prissie stood still, with a gasp of dismay. She did not want Maggie to hear her now. She would have been distressed at Maggie being acquainted with her carelessness. She felt sure that a girl like Maggie Oliphant could never understand what a little purse, which only contained a sovereign or two, would mean to her.

      On tiptoe, and shading the candle with her hand, she stole past the partly open door. A rich tapestry curtain hung at the other side, and Maggie doubtless thought the door was shut.

      Priscilla had almost gone past the open door, when her steps were again arrested by the sound of voices. Someone said “Priscilla Peel,” and then someone else laughed.

      Priscilla stood perfectly still. Of course she had no right to listen, but she did; she waited breathless, in an agony of expectation, for the next words.

      “I would not be jealous if I were you, Nancy,” said Maggie’s lazy, sweet voice. “The poor girl is as queer as her name, but it gives me a kind of aesthetic pleasure to be good to people. You have no cause to be jealous, sweet pet.”

      Priscilla raised one trembling hand, and noiselessly put out her candle. Her feet seemed rooted to the spot.

      Nancy murmured something, which Priscilla could not hear. Then there was the sound of one girl kissing another, and Maggie’s light laugh was heard again.

      “The unfortunate girl has fallen in love with you, there’s no doubt about that, Maggie,” said Nancy.

      “Well, my dear, she’ll get over that little fever presently. When I’m kind to them, they all have it. I believe I am gracious to them just because I like to see that grateful, affectionate expression in their eyes. The fact is, Nance, I have a perfectly crazy desire to excite love.”

      “But do you give love, Maggie? Do you ever give it back in return?”

      “Sometimes. I don’t know, I believe I am rather fond of you, for instance.”

      “Maggie, was Geoffrey Hammond at St. Hilda’s this afternoon?”

      “I can’t possibly say,” replied Maggie, in a cold voice. Then she added excitedly, “I don’t believe the door is shut! You are so careless, Nannie, so indifferent to the fact that there may be eavesdroppers about.”

      Priscilla crept back to her room. She had forgotten all about her purse; every other feeling was completely swallowed up in a burning, choking sense of anger.

      Chapter Five

      Why Priscilla Peel went to St. Benet’s

      Priscilla had received a shock, and hers was not the sort of nature to take such a blow easily. She was a reserved girl, but her feelings were deep, her affections very strong. Priscilla had a rather commonplace past, but it was the sort of past to foster and deepen the peculiarities of her character. Her father had died when she was twelve, her mother when she was fourteen. They were north-country folk, and they possessed all the best characteristics of their class. They were rigidly upright people, they never went in debt; they considered luxuries bad for the soul, and the smaller refinements of life altogether unnecessary.

      Mr Peel managed to save a little money out of his earnings. He took year by year these savings to the nearest County Bank, and invested them to the best of his ability. The bank broke, and in one fell stroke he lost all the savings of a life. This affected his health, and he never held up his head or recovered his vigour of mind and body again.

      He died, and two years afterwards his wife followed him. Priscilla was then fourteen, and there were three little sisters several years younger. They were merry little children, strong, healthy, untouched by care. Priscilla, on the contrary, was grave, and looked much older than her years.

      On the night their mother was buried, Aunt Rachel Peel, their father’s sister, came from her home far away on the borders of Devonshire, and told the four desolate children that she was going to take them away to live on her little farm with her.

      Aunt Raby spoke in a very frank manner. She concealed nothing.

      “It’s only fair to tell you, Prissie,” she said, addressing the tall, gawky girl, who stood with her hands folded in front of her – “it’s only fair to tell you that hitherto I’ve just made two ends meet for one mouth alone, and how I’m to fill four extra ones the Lord knows, but I don’t. Still, I’m going to try, for it shall never be said that Andrew Peel’s children wanted bread while his sister, Rachel Peel, lived.”

      “We have none of us big appetites,” said Priscilla, after a long, solemn pause; “we can do with very little food – very little. The only one who ever is really hungry is Hattie.”

      Aunt Raby looked up at the pale face, for Prissie was taller than her aunt even then, and said in a shocked voice —

      “Good gracious, child! do you think I’d stint one of you? You ought all to be hearty, and I hope you will be. No, no, it isn’t that, Prissie, but there’ll be no luxuries, so don’t you expect them.”

      “I don’t want them,” answered Priscilla.

      The children all went to Devonshire, and Aunt Raby toiled, as perhaps no woman had ever toiled before, to put bread into their mouths. Katie had a fever, which made her pale and thin, and took away that look of robustness which had characterised the little Yorkshire maiden. Nobody thought about the children’s education, and they might have grown up without any were it not for Priscilla, who taught them what she knew herself. Nobody thought Priscilla clever; she had no brilliance about her in any way, but she had a great gift for acquiring knowledge. Wherever she went she picked up a fresh fact, or a fresh fancy, or a new idea, and these she turned over and over in her active, strong, young brain, until she assimilated them, and made them part of herself.

      Amongst the few things that had been saved from her early home there was a box of her father’s old books, and as these comprised several of the early poets and essayists, she might have gone farther and fared worse.

      One day the old clergyman who lived at a small vicarage near called to see Miss Peel. He discovered Priscilla deep over Carlyle’s “History of the French Revolution.” The young girl had become absorbed in the fascination of the wild and terrible tale. Some of the horror of it had got into her eyes as she raised them to return Mr Hayes’ courteous greeting. His attention was arrested by the look she gave him. He questioned her about her reading, and presently offered to help her. From this hour Priscilla made rapid progress. She was not taught in the ordinary fashion, but she was being really educated. Her life was full now; she knew nothing about the world, nothing about society. She had no ambitions, and she did not trouble herself to look very far ahead. The old classics which she studied from morning till night abundantly satisfied her really strong intellectual nature.

      Mr Hayes allowed her to talk with him, even to argue points with him. He always liked her to draw her own conclusions; he encouraged her really original ideas; he was proud of his pupil, and he grew fond of her. It was not Priscilla’s way to say a word about СКАЧАТЬ