by L. T. Meade
many weeks are over, see if I don't!"
CHAPTER EIGHT.
THE KINDEST AND MOST COMFORTING WAY.
Maggie was once more alone. She stood quite still for nearly half aminute in the centre of her room. Her hands were clasped tightlytogether. The expression of her face and her attitude showed suchintense feeling as to be almost theatrical. This was no acting,however; it was Maggie's nature to throw herself into attitudes beforespectators or alone. She required some vent for all her passionateexcitement, and what her girl-friends called Miss Oliphant's poses mayhave afforded her a certain measure of relief.
After standing still for these few seconds, she ran to the door and drewthe bolt; then, sinking down once more in her easy-chair, she took upthe letter which Rosalind Merton had brought her, and began to read thecontents. Four sides of a sheet of paper were covered with small, closewriting, the neat somewhat cramped hand which at that time characterisedthe men of St Hilda's College.
Maggie's eyes seemed to fly over the writing; they absorbed the sense,they took the full meaning out of each word. At last all was known toher, burnt in, indeed, upon her brain.
She crushed the letter suddenly in one of her hands, then raised it toher lips and kissed it; then fiercely, as though she hated it, tossed itinto the fire. After this she sat quiet, her hands folded meekly, herhead slightly bent. The colour gradually left her cheeks. She lookeddead tired and languid. After a time she arose, and, walking veryslowly across her room, sat down by her bureau, and drew a sheet ofpaper before her. As she did so her eyes fell for a moment on the Greekplay which had fascinated her an hour ago. She found herself againmurmuring some lines from _Prometheus Vinctus_:--
"O divine ether, and swift-winged winds--"
She interrupted herself with a petulant movement. "Folly!" shemurmured, pushing the book aside. "Even glorious, great thoughts likethose don't satisfy me. Whoever supposed they would? What was I givena heart for? Why does it beat so fiercely, and long, and love? and whyis it wrong--wrong of me to love? Oh, Annabel Lee! oh, darling! if onlyyour wretched Maggie Oliphant had never known you!"
Maggie dashed some heavy tears from her eyes, then, taking up her pen,she began to write.
"Heath Hall,--
"St Benet's.--
"Dear Mr Hammond--
"I should prefer that you did not in future give letters for me to any of my friends here. I do not wish to receive them through the medium of any of my fellow-students. Please understand this. When you have anything to say to me, you can write in the ordinary course of post. I am not ashamed of any slight correspondence we may have together; but I refuse to countenance, or to be in any sense a party to, what may even seem underhand.
"I shall try to be at the Marshalls' on Sunday afternoon, but I have nothing to say in reply to your letter. My views are unalterable.
"Yours sincerely,--
"Margaret Oliphant."
Maggie did not read the letter after she had written it. She put itinto an envelope and directed it. Hers was a large and bold hand, andthe address was swiftly written--
"Geoffrey Hammond, Esq, "St Hilda's, "Kingsdene."
She stamped her letter and, late as it was, took it down herself, anddeposited it in the post-bag.
The next morning, when the students strolled in to breakfast, many pairsof eyes were raised with a new curiosity to watch Priscilla Peel. EvenMaggie, as she drank her coffee, and munched a piece of dry toast, forshe was a very poor eater, could not help flashing a keen and interestedglance at the young girl as she came into the room.
Prissie was the reverse of fashionable in her attire; her neat browncashmere dress had been made by Aunt Raby. The hemming, the stitching,the gathering, the frilling, which went to make up this useful garmentwere neat, were even exquisite; but then, Aunt Raby was not gifted witha stylish cut. Prissie's hair was smoothly parted, but the thick plaiton the back of the neck was by no means artistically coiled. The girl'splain pale face was not set off by the severity of her toilet; there wasno touch of spring or brightness anywhere, no look or note which shouldbelong to one so young, unless it was the extreme thinness of herfigure.
The curious eyes of the students were raised when she appeared, and oneor two laughed and turned their heads away. They had heard of herexploit of the night before. Miss Day and Miss Marsh had repeated thisgood story. It had impressed them at the time, but they did not tell itto others in an impressive way, and the girls, who had not seen Prissie,but had only heard the tale, spoke of her to one another as an"insufferable little prig."
"Isn't it too absurd," said Rosalind Merton, sidling up to Maggie, andcasting some disdainful glances at poor Priscilla, "the conceit of somepeople! Of all forms of conceit, preserve me from the priggish style."
"I don't understand you," said Maggie, raising her eyes and speaking inher lazy voice. "Are there any prigs about? I don't see them. Oh,Miss Peel,"--she jumped up hastily--"won't you sit here by me? I havebeen reserving this place for you, for I have been so anxious to know ifyou would do me a kindness. Please sit down, and I'll tell you what itis. You needn't wait, Rosalind. What I have got to say is only forMiss Peel's ears."
Rosalind retired in dudgeon to the other end of the room, and, if thelaughing and muttering continued, they now only reached Maggie andPriscilla in the form of very distant murmurs.
"How pale you look," said Maggie, turning to the girl, "and how cold youare! Yes, I am quite sure you are bitterly cold. Now you shall have agood breakfast. Let me help you. Please, do. I'll go to theside-table, and bring you something so tempting; wait and see."
"You mustn't trouble, really," began Prissie Miss Oliphant flashed abrilliant smile at her; Prissie found her words arrested, and, in spiteof herself, her coldness began to thaw. Maggie ran over to theside-table, and Priscilla kept repeating under her breath--
"She's not true--she's beautiful, but she's false; she has the kindest,sweetest, most comforting way in the world, but she only does it for thesake of an aesthetic pleasure. I ought not to let her. I ought not tospeak to her. I ought to go away, and have nothing to do with herproffers of goodwill, and yet somehow or other I can't resist her."
Maggie came back with some delicately carved chicken and ham, and a hotcup of delicious coffee.
"Is not this nice?" she said; "now eat it all up, and speak to meafterwards. Oh, how dreadfully cold you do look!"
"I feel cold--in spirit as well as physically," retorted Priscilla.
"Well, let breakfast warm you--and--and--a small dose of the tonic ofsympathy, if I may dare to offer it."
Priscilla turned her eyes full upon Miss Oliphant.
"Do you mean it?" she said, in a choked kind of voice. "Is that quitetrue what you said just now?"
"True? What a queer child! Of course it is true. What do you take mefor? Why should not I sympathise with you?"
"I want you to," said Prissie. Tears filled her eyes; she turned herhead away. Maggie gave her hand a squeeze.
"Now eat your breakfast," she said. "I shall glance through my letterswhile you are busy."
She leant back in her chair, and opened several envelopes. Priscillaate her chicken and ham, drank her coffee, and felt the benefit of thedouble tonic which had been administered in so timely a fashion. It wasone of Miss Oliphant's peculiarities to inspire in those she wanted tofascinate absolute and almost unreasoning faith for the time being.Doubts would and might return in her absence, but in the sunshine of herparticularly genial manner they found it hard to live.
After breakfast the girls were leaving the room together, when MissHeath, the Principal of the Hall in which they resided, came into theroom. She was a tall, stately woman of about thirty-five, and had seenvery little of Priscilla since her arrival, but now she stopped to giveboth girls a special greeting. Her manners were very frank andpleasant.
"My dear," she said to Prissie, "I have been anxious to cultivate youracquaintance. Will you come and
have tea with me in my room thisafternoon? And, Maggie, dear, will you come with Miss Peel?"
She laid her hand on Maggie's shoulder as she spoke, looked swiftly intothe young girl's face, then turned with a glance of great interest toPriscilla.
"You will both come," she said. "That is right. I won't ask anyoneelse. We shall have a cosy time together, and Miss Peel can tell me allabout her studies, and aims, and ambitions."
"Thank you," said Maggie, "I'll answer for Miss Peel. We'll both come;we shall be delighted."
Miss Heath nodded to the pair, and walked swiftly down the long hall tothe dons' special entrance, where she disappeared.
"Is not she
