“How?” asked Rose again. “I’m sure,” she added, in a vehement voice, “I’m willing—I’m more than willing.”
“Good. Well, we’re at home now, and I absolutely must have a cup of tea. No time for it in my room to-night—let’s come into the hall and have some there. Look here, Rosalind, I’ll ask Lucy Marsh to have cocoa to-night in my room, and you can come too. Now keep a silent tongue in your head, Baby.”
Chapter Twelve.
A Good Thing to be Young.
It was long past the tea-hour at Heath Hall when Maggie Oliphant and Priscilla started on their walk home. The brightness and gaiety of the merry party at the Marshalls’ had increased as the moments flew on. Even Priscilla had caught something of the charm. The kindly spirit which animated everyone seemed to get into her. She first became interested, then she forgot herself. Prissie was no longer awkward; she began to talk, and when she liked she could talk well.
As the two girls were leaving the house, Geoffrey Hammond put in a sudden appearance.
“I will see you home,” he said to Maggie.
“No, no, you mustn’t,” she answered; her tone was vehement. She forgot Prissie’s presence, and half-turned her back on her.