“I must say you have a blunt way of refusing,” said Miss Day. She felt inclined to be offended, but Nancy Banister, who was standing by, and had not hitherto spoken, bestowed a quick glance of approval on Priscilla, and then said something soothing to Miss Day.
“May I cocoa with you instead, Annie?” she said. “I am afraid no one can accuse me of killing myself with work, but we all respect earnest workers—we must. It is for them St. Benet’s is really meant. It was endowed for them, and built for them, and we poor drones must not throw disparaging remarks on the busy bees.”
“Oh, nonsense!” said Miss Marsh; “St. Benet’s was made for sociability as well as study, and I have no patience with the students who don’t try to combine the two. By the way,” she added, turning round, and speaking in a rather impertinent voice to Priscilla, “I sent you a message to say I was going down to Kingsdene this afternoon, and would be happy to take you with me if you would care to visit Spilman’s.”
“Thank you,” said Priscilla, “I got your note just too late to answer it. I was going to speak to you about it,” she added.
“Then you would have come?”
Priscilla’s face grew very red.
“No, I should not have come.”
It was Miss Marsh’s turn to get red.
“Come! Annie,” she exclaimed, turning to Miss Day, “we had better waste no more time here. Miss Banister, we’ll see you presently, won’t we? Good-night, Miss Peel. Perhaps you don’t mind my saying something very frank?”
“I do,” said Priscilla, “but that won’t prevent your saying it, will it?”