by L. T. Meade
matter-of-fact voice. "MissOliphant has asked me to go with her to the Marshalls'."
"Oh, well--if you care to be in the--" resumed Rosalind.
Maggie suddenly flashed round on her.
"Come, Miss Peel, we'll be late," she said. "Good-bye." She nodded toRosalind; her eyes were full of an angry fire; she took Prissie's hand,and hurried down the street.
The two girls walked away, still giggling; a deep colour mantledMaggie's cheeks. She turned and began to talk desperately to MrHammond. Her tone was flippant; her silvery laughter floated in theair. Priscilla turned and gazed at her friend. She was seeing Maggiein yet another aspect. She felt bewildered.
The three presently reached a pleasant house standing in its owngrounds. They were shown into a large drawing-room, full of youngpeople. Mrs Marshall, a pretty old lady, with white hair, came forwardto receive them. Maggie was swept away amid fervent embraces andhandshakes to the other end of the room. Mrs Marshall saw thatPriscilla looked frightened; she took her under her wing, sat down byher on a sofa, and began to talk.
Prissie answered in a sedate voice. Mrs Marshall had a very gentlemanner. Prissie began to lose her shyness; she almost imagined that shewas back again with Aunt Raby.
"My dear, you will like us all very much," the old lady said. "No lifecan be so absolutely delightful as that of a girl graduate at StBenet's. The freedom from care, the mixture of study with play, thepleasant social life, all combine to make young women both healthy andwise. Ah, my love, we leave out the middle of the old proverb. Thegirls at St Benet's are in that happy period of existence when theyneed give no thought to money-making."
"Some are," said Prissie. She sighed, and the colour rushed into hercheeks. Mrs Marshall looked at her affectionately.
"Helen," she called to her grand-daughter who was standing near, "bringMiss Peel another cup of tea--and some cake, Helen--some of that nicecake you made yesterday. Now, my love, I insist. You don't look at allstrong. You really must eat plenty."
Helen Marshall supplied Prissie's wants, was introduced to her, and,standing near, joined in the talk.
"I am so glad you know Miss Oliphant," said Mrs Marshall. "She willmake a delightful friend for you."
"And isn't she lovely?" said Helen Marshall. "I don't think I knowanyone with such a beautiful face. You ought to be very proud to haveher as a friend. Aren't you very proud?"
"No," said Prissie, "I don't know that I am. I am not even sure thatshe is my friend."
"Of course she is--she wrote most affectionately of you to grandmother.You can't think how nicely she spoke. We were glad, we were delighted,because Maggie--dear Maggie--has had no great friends lately. Now, ifyou have had your tea, Miss Peel, I'll take you about the room, andintroduce you to one or two people."
Priscilla rose from her seat at once, and the two girls began to moveabout the crowded drawing-room. Helen Marshall was very slight andgraceful; she piloted Prissie here and there without disturbing anyone'sarrangements. At last the two girls found themselves in an immenseconservatory, which opened into the drawing-room at one end.
A great many of the guests were strolling about here. Priscilla's eyessparkled at the sight of the lovely flowers. She forgot herself, andmade eager exclamations of ecstasy. Helen, who up to now had thoughther a dull sort of girl, began to take an interest in her.
"I'll take you into our fern-house, which is just beyond here," shesaid. "We have got such exquisite maidenhairs, and such a splendidKillarney fern. Come; you shall see."
The fern-house seemed to be deserted. Helen opened the door first, andran forward. Prissie followed. The fern-house was not large; they hadalmost reached the end when a girl stood up suddenly, and confrontedthem. The girl was Maggie Oliphant. She was sitting there alone. Herface was absolutely colourless, and tears were lying wet on hereyelashes.
Maggie made a swift remark, a passing jest, and hurried past the twointo the outer conservatory.
Priscilla could scarcely tell why, but at that moment she lost allinterest in both ferns and flowers. The look of misery on Maggie's faceseemed to strike her own heart like a chill.
"You look tired," said Helen Marshall, who had not noticed Maggie'stearful eyes.
"Perhaps I am," answered Prissie.
They went back again into the drawing-room. Prissie still could seenothing but Miss Oliphant's eyes, and the look of distress on her paleface.
Helen suddenly made a remark.
"Was there ever such a merry creature as Maggie?" she said. "Do look ather now."
Prissie raised her eyes. Miss Oliphant was the centre of a gay group,among whom Geoffrey Hammond stood. Her laugh rang out clear and joyous;her smile was like sunshine, her cheeks had roses in them, and her eyeswere as bright as stars.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
CONSPIRATORS.
Annie Day and her friend Rosalind ceased to laugh as soon as they turnedthe corner. Annie now turned her eyes and fixed them on Rosalind, whoblushed and looked uncomfortable.
"Well," said Annie, "you are a humbug, Rose! What a story you told meabout Mr Hammond--how he looked at you, and was so anxious to make useof you. Oh, you know all you said. You told me a charming story aboutyour position as `gooseberry.' You expected a little fun for yourself,didn't you, my friend? Well, it seems to me that if anyone is to havethe fun, it is Priscilla Peel."
Rosalind had rather a nervous manner. She bit her lips now; herbaby-blue eyes looked angry, her innocent face wore a frown. Shedropped her hold of Annie Day's arm.
Miss Day was one of the most commonplace girls at Heath Hall. She hadneither good looks nor talent; she had no refinement of nature, nor hadshe those rugged but sterling qualities of honesty and integrity ofpurpose which go far to cover a multitude of other defects.
"I wish you wouldn't speak to me in that way," said Rosalind, with alittle gasp. "I hate people to laugh at me, and I can't stand sneers."
"Oh, no! you're such a dear little innocent baby. Of course, I canquite understand. And does she suppose I'll ruffle her pretty littlefeathers? No, not I. I'd rather invent a new cradle song for you,Rosie, dear."
"Don't, don't!" said Rosalind. "Look here, Annie, I must saysomething--yes, I must. I _hate_ Maggie Oliphant!"
"You hate Miss Oliphant?" Annie Day stood still, turned round, andstared at her companion. "When did this revolution take place, my dear?What about Rose and Maggie sitting side by side at dinner? And Rosecreeping away all by herself to Maggie's room, and angling for aninvitation to cocoa, and trying hard, very hard, to become a member ofthe Dramatic Society, just because Maggie acts so splendidly. Has itnot been _Maggie--Maggie_--ever since the term began, until we girls,who were not in love with this quite too charming piece of perfection,absolutely hated the sound of her name? Oh, Rose, what a fickle babyyou are. I am ashamed of you!"
"Don't!" said Rose, again. She linked her hand half timidly in MissDay's arm. Miss Day was almost a head and shoulders above the little,delicate, fairy-like creature. "I suppose I can't help changing mymind," she said. "I _did_ love Maggie, of course I loved her--shefascinated me; but I don't care for her--no, I _hate_ her now!"
"How vehemently you pronounce that naughty word, my fair Rosalind. Youmust give me some reasons for this grievous change in your feelings."
"She snubbed me," said Rosalind; "she made little of me. I offered todo her a kindness, and she repulsed me. Who cares to be made little of,and repulsed?"
"Who, truly, Rosie?--not even an innocent baby. Now then, my love, letme whisper a little secret to you. I have never loved Miss Oliphant. Ihave never been a victim to her charms. Time was when she and MissLee--poor Annabel!--ruled the whole of our Hall. Those two girlscarried everything before them. That was before your day, Rose. ThenMiss Lee died. She caught a chill, and had a fever, and was dead in acouple of days. Yes, of course, it was shocking. They moved her to thehospital, and she died there. Oh, there was such excitement, and suchgrief--even _
I_ was sorry; for Annabel had a way about her, I can'tdescribe it, but she _could_ fascinate you. It was awfully interestingto talk to her, and even to look at her was a real pleasure. We usednot to think much about Maggie when Annabel was by; but now, what withMaggie and her mystery, and Maggie and her love affair, and Maggie andher handsome face, and her wealth, and her expectations, why she bidsfair to be more popular even than the two were when they were together.Yes, little Rose, I don't want her to be popular any more than you do.I think it's a very unhealthy sign of any place to have all the girlssighing and groaning about one or two--dying to possess
