Chapter Twenty One.
“I Detest It.”
Shortly after the girls got home that evening, they received letters in their rooms to inform them that Miss Heath and Miss Eccleston had come to the resolution not to report the affair of the auction to the college authorities. They would trust to the honour of the students at St. Benet’s not to allow such a proceeding to occur again, and would say nothing further on the matter.
Prissie’s eyes filled again with tears as she read the carefully worded note. Holding it open in her hand she rushed to Maggie’s room and knocked. To her surprise, instead of the usual cheerful “Come in,” with which Miss Oliphant always assured her young friend of a welcome, Maggie said from the other side of the locked door—
“I am very busy just now—I cannot see anyone.”
Priscilla felt a curious sense of being chilled; her whole afternoon had been one of elation, and Maggie’s words came as a kind of cold douche. She went back to her room, tried not to mind, and occupied herself looking over her beloved Greek until the dinner-gong sounded.
After dinner Priscilla again looked with anxious, loving eyes at Maggie. Maggie did not stop, as was her custom, to say a kind word or two as she passed. She was talking to another girl, and laughing gaily. Her dress was as picturesque as her face and figure were beautiful. But was Priscilla mistaken, or was her anxious observation too close? She felt sure as Miss Oliphant brushed past her that her eyelids were slightly reddened, as if she had been weeping.
Prissie put out a timid hand and touched Maggie on the arm. She turned abruptly.
“I forgot,” she said to her companion. “Please wait for me outside, Hester; I’ll join you in a moment, I have just a word to say to Miss Peel. What is it, Prissie?” said Maggie, then, when the other girl had walked out of hearing. “Why did you touch me?”