“Very well,” she said, as she entered the room, followed by Rosalind, “I will go with you. At what hour do you want to start?”
“At three o’clock. I’m awfully grateful. A thousand thanks, Miss Peel.”
Prissie nodded, seated herself at the lecture-table, and in the interest of the work which lay before her soon forgot all about Rosalind and her troubles.
The afternoon of that day turned out not only foggy, but wet. A drizzling rain shrouded the landscape, and very few girls from St. Benet’s were venturing abroad.
At half-past two Nancy Banister came hastily into Priscilla’s room.
“Maggie and I are going down to the library,” she said, “to have a cosy read by the fire; we want you to come with us. Why, surely you are never going out, Miss Peel?”
“Yes, I am,” answered Prissie, in a resigned voice. “I don’t like it a bit, but Miss Merton has asked me to go with her to Kingsdene, and I promised.”
“Well, you sha’n’t keep your promise. This is not a fit day for you to go out, and you have a cough, too. I heard you coughing last night.”
“Yes, but that is nothing. I must go, Miss Banister; I must keep my word. I daresay it won’t take Miss Merton and me very long to walk into Kingsdene and back again.”
“And I never knew that Rosalind Merton was one of your friends, Prissie,” continued Nancy, in a puzzled voice.