“What about her? She has just been here to speak of you.”
“Has she?”
“It is possible that she may make you a proposition which will affect your whole future, but I am not at liberty to say any more. Have you a proposition to make about her?”
“I have, and it will affect all Maggie’s life. It will make her so good—so very, very happy. Oh, Miss Heath! you ought to do it: you ought to make her marry Mr Hammond at once.”
“My dear Priscilla!” Miss Heath’s face turned crimson. “Are you alluding to Geoffrey Hammond? I know great friends of his; he is one of the cleverest men at St. Hilda’s.”
“Yes, and one of the best,” pursued Prissie, clasping her hands and speaking in that excited way which she always did when quite carried out of herself. “You don’t know how good he is, Miss Heath. I think he is one of the best of men. I would do anything in the world for him—anything.”
“Where have you met him, Priscilla?”
“At the Marshalls’, and once at the Elliot-Smiths’, and to-day, when I was so miserable, when the bogie ran after me, you know, at St. Hilda’s, just outside the chapel. Mr Hammond asked me to come to the service, and I went, and afterwards he chased the bogie away. Oh, he is good, he is kind, and he loves Maggie with all his heart. He has loved her for a long time, I am sure, but she is never nice to him.”
“Then, of course,” said Miss Heath, “if Miss Oliphant does not care for Mr Hammond, there is an end of the matter. You are a very innocent and very young girl, Priscilla; but this is a subject in which you have no right to interfere. Far from me to say that I disapprove of marriage for our students, but, while at St. Benet’s, it is certainly best for them to give their attention to other matters.”
“For most of us,” replied Prissie, “but not for Maggie. No one in the college thinks Maggie happy.”