A Sweet Girl Graduate
Page 30
bade her release herself from all her presenttroubles by theft, but at this moment she was excited, worried, scarcelycapable of calm thought. Here was her unexpected opportunity. It layin her power now to revenge herself on Miss Oliphant, on Prissie, onPolly Singleton, and also to get out of her own difficulties.
How tempting was Maggie's purse! how rich its contents were likely toprove! Maggie was so rich and so careless, that, it was quite possibleshe might never miss the small sum which Rose meant to take. If shedid, it would be absolutely impossible for her to trace the theft toinnocent baby Rose Merton. No; if Maggie missed her money and suspectedanyone, she would be almost forced to lay the crime to the door of thegirl she no longer, in her heart, eared about--Priscilla Peel.
A very rich flood of crimson covered Rose's cheeks as this consequenceof her sin flashed before her vision. Less even than before was shecapable of seeing right from wrong. The opportunity was far too good tolose; by one small act she would not only free herself, but accomplishthe object on which she had set her mean little heart: she wouldeffectually destroy the friendship of Maggie and Priscilla.
Stealthily, with her cheeks burning and her eyes bright with agitation,she once more approached the bureau, took from under the pile of papersthe little sealskin purse, opened it, removed a five-pound note, claspedthe purse again, and restored it to its hiding-place, then flew on thewings of the wind from the room.
A moment or two later Priscilla came back, sat calmly down in one ofMaggie's comfortable chairs, and, taking up her Greek edition ofEuripides, began to read and translate with eagerness.
As Prissie read she made notes with a pencil in a small book which layin her lap. The splendid thoughts appealed to her powerfully; her faceglowed with pleasure. She lived in the noble past; she was a Greek withthe old Greeks; she forgot the nineteenth century, with its smallness,its money worries--above all, she forgot her own cares.
At last in her reading she came to a difficult sentence, which, try asshe would, she could not render into English to her own satisfaction.She was a very careful student, and always disliked shirkingdifficulties; the pleasure of her reading would be lost if she did notdo full justice to the lines which puzzled her. She resolved to read nofurther until Maggie appeared: Maggie Oliphant, with her superiorinformation, would soon cut the knot for her. She closed the copy ofEuripides with reluctance, and, putting her hand into her pocket, tookout a note she had just received, to mark the place.
A moment or two later Maggie came in.
"Still here, Prissie!" she exclaimed, in her somewhat indifferent butgood-natured voice. "What a bookworm you are turning into!"
"I have been waiting for you to help me, if you will, Maggie," saidPriscilla. "I have lost the right clue to the full sense of thispassage--see! Can you give it to me?"
Maggie sat down at once, took up the book, glanced her eyes over thedifficult words, and translated them with ease.
"How lovely!" said Prissie, clasping her hands, and giving herself up toa feeling of enjoyment. "Don't stop, Maggie, please; do read somemore!" Miss Oliphant smiled.
"Enthusiast!" she murmured.
She translated with brilliancy to the end of the page; then, throwingthe book on her knee, repeated the whole passage aloud in Greek.
The note that Prissie put in as a mark fell on the floor. She was solost in delighted listening that she did not notice it, but, when Maggieat last stopped for want of breath, Priscilla saw the little note,stooped forward to pick it up, glanced at the handwriting, and a shadowswept over her expressive face.
"Oh! thank you, Maggie, thank you," she exclaimed; "it is beautiful,entrancing! It made me forget everything for a short time, but I mustnot listen to any more; it is, indeed, most beautiful; but not for me."
"What do you mean, you little goose? You will soon read Euripides aswell as I do. What is more, you will surpass me, Priscilla; your talentis greater than mine."
"Don't say that, Maggie; I can scarcely bear it when you do."
"Why do you say you can scarcely bear it? Do you love me so well thatyou hate to excel me? Silly child, as if I cared!"
"Maggie, I know you are really too great to be possessed by pettyweaknesses. If I ever did excel you, which is most unlikely, I know youwould be glad both for me and yourself. No, it is not that; I amunhappy because of no fancy."
"What worries you then?"
"Maggie, do you see this note?"
"Yes; it is from Miss Heath, is it not?"
"It is. I am to see her to-night."
"Well, Prissie, you must be quick with your revelation, for I have somenotes to look over."
"I won't keep you a moment. I am to see Miss Heath to tell her--"Prissie paused. Her face grew deadly white. "I am to see Miss Heath totell her--to tell her--that I.--Oh, Maggie! I must give up my classics.I must; it's all settled. Don't say anything. Don't tempt me toreconsider the question. It can't be reconsidered, and my mind is madeup. That's it; it's a trouble, but I must go through with it.Good-night, Maggie."
Prissie held out her long, unformed hand; Miss Oliphant clasped itbetween both her own.
"You are trembling," she said, standing up and drawing the girl towardsher. "I don't want to argue the point if you so firmly forbid me. Ithink you quite mad, of course. It is absolutely impossible for me tosympathise with such wild folly. Still, if your mind is made up, Iwon't interfere. But, seeing that at one time we were very firmfriends, you might give me your reasons, Priscilla."
Priscilla slowly and stiffly withdrew her hands; her lips moved. Shewas repeating Miss Oliphant's words under her breath--
"At one time we were friends."
"Won't you speak?" said Maggie, impatiently.
"Oh, yes, I'll speak; I'll tell you the reason. You won't understand,but you had better know--" Prissie paused again; she seemed to swallowsomething; her next words came out slowly with great difficulty: "When Iwent home for the Christmas recess I found Aunt Raby worse. You don'tknow what my home is like, Miss Oliphant; it is small and poor. At homewe are often cold, and often hungry. I have three little sisters, andthey want clothes and education; they want training, they want love,they want care. Aunt Raby is too weak to do much for them now; she isvery, very ill. You have not an idea--not an idea--Miss Oliphant, inyour wealth and your luxury what the poverty of Penywern Cottage islike. What does such poverty mean? How shall I describe it to you? weare sometimes glad of a piece of bread; butter is a luxury; meat wescarcely taste." Prissie again broke off to think and consider her nextwords. Maggie, whose sympathies were always keenly aroused by any realemotion, tried once again to take her hands; Prissie put them behindher. "Aunt Raby is a good woman," continued Priscilla; "she is brave,she is a heroine. Although she is just a commonplace old woman, no onehas ever led a grander life in its way. She wears poor clothes--oh, thepoorest; she has an uncouth appearance, worse even than I have, but I amquite sure that God--_God_ respects her--God thinks her worthy. When myfather and mother died (I was fourteen when my dear mother died) AuntRaby came and took me home and my three little sisters. She gave usbread to eat. Oh, yes, we never quite wanted food, but before we cameAunt Raby had enough money to feed herself, and no more. She took usall in and supported us, because she worked so very, very hard. Eversince I was fourteen--I am eighteen now--Aunt Raby has done this.Well," continued Priscilla, slow tears coming to her eyes and makingthemselves felt in her voice, "this hard work is killing her; Aunt Rabyis dying because she has worked so hard for us. Before my three yearshave come to an end here, she will be far, far away: she will be at restfor ever--God will be making up to her for all she has done here. Herhard life which God will have thought beautiful will be having itsreward. Afterwards I have to support and educate the three littlegirls. I spoke to Mr Hayes--my dear clergyman, about whom I have toldyou, and who taught me all I know--and he agrees with me that I knowenough of Greek and Latin now for rudimentary teaching, and that I shallbe better qualified to take a good payi
ng situation if I devote thewhole of my time while at St Benet's to learning and perfecting myselfin modern languages. It's the end of a lovely dream, of course, butthere is no doubt--no doubt whatever--what is right for me to do."
Prissie stopped speaking; Maggie went up again and tried to take herhand; she drew back a step or two, pretending not to see.
"It has been very kind of you to listed," she said; "I am very gratefulto you, for now, whatever we may be to each other in future, you willunderstand that I don't give up what I love lightly. Thank you, youhave helped me much. Now I must go and tell Miss Heath what I have saidto you. I have had a happy reading of Euripides and have enjoyedlistening to you. I meant to give