A Sweet Girl Graduate | Page 7

with heavy and pained seriousness.
"I think the students here are cruel," she repeated. "How can a stranger
know which is the dons' entrance and which is the right seat to take at
table? If nobody shows her, how can a stranger know? I do think the
students are cruel, and I am sorry-- very sorry I came."
CHAPTER III
AN UNWILLING AT HOME
MOST of the girls who sat at those dinner-tables had fringed or tousled
or curled locks. Priscilla's were brushed simply away from her broad

forehead. After saying her last words, she bent her head low over her
plate and longed even for the protection of a fringe to hide her burning
blushes. Her momentary courage had evaporated; she was shocked at
having betrayed herself to a stranger; her brief fit of passion left her
stiffer and shyer than ever. Blinding tears rushed to Priscilla's eyes, and
her terror was that they would drop on to her plate. Suppose some of
those horrid girls saw her crying? Hateful thought. She would rather die
than show emotion before them.
At this moment a soft, plump little hand was slipped into hers and the
sweetest of voices said:
"I am so sorry anything has seemed unkind to you. Believe me, we are
not what you imagine. We have our fun and our prejudices, of course,
but we are not what you think we are."
Priscilla could not help smiling, nor could she resist slightly squeezing
the fingers which touched hers.
"You are not unkind, I know," she answered; and she ate the rest of her
dinner in a comforted frame of mind.
After dinner one of the lecturers who resided at Heath Hall, a pleasant,
bright girl of two- or three-and-twenty, came and introduced herself,
and presently took Priscilla with her to her own room, to talk over the
line of study which the young girl proposed to take up. This conference
lasted some little time, and then Priscilla, in the lecturer's company,
returned to the hall for tea.
A great many girls kept coming in and out. Some stayed to have tea,
but most helped themselves to tea and bread and butter and took them
away to partake of in their own private rooms.
Maggie Oliphant and Nancy Banister presently rushed in for this
purpose. Maggie, seeing Priscilla, ran up to her.
"How are you getting on?" she asked brightly. "Oh, by-the-by, will you
cocoa with me to-night at half-past ten?"

"I don't know what you mean," answered Priscilla. "But I'll do it," she
added, her eyes brightening.
"All right, I'll explain the simple ceremony when you come. My room
is next to yours, so you'll have no difficulty in finding me out. I don't
expect to have any one present except Miss Banister," nodding her head
in Nancy's direction, "and perhaps one other girl. By-by, I'll see you at
half-past ten."
Maggie turned to leave the hall, but Nancy lingered for a moment by
Priscilla's side.
"Wouldn't you like to take your tea up to your room?" she asked. "We
most of us do it. You may, you know."
"I don't think I wish to," answered Priscilla in an uncertain voice.
Nancy half turned to go, then came back.
"You are going to unpack by and by, aren't you?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, when I get back to my room."
"Perhaps you ought to know beforehand; the girls will be coming to
call."
Priscilla raised her eyes.
"What girls?" she asked, alarm in her tone.
"Oh, most of the students in your corridor. They always call on a
fresher the first night in her room. You need not bother yourself about
them; they'll just talk for a little while and then go away. What is the
matter, Miss Peel? Maggie has told me your name, you see."
"What you tell me sounds so very-- very formal."
"But it isn't-- not really. Shall I come and help you to entertain them?"

"I wish----" began Priscilla. She hesitated; the words seemed to stick in
her throat.
"What did you say?" Nancy bent forward a little impatiently.
"I wish-- yes, do come," with a violent effort.
"All right, you may expect me."
Nancy flew after Maggie Oliphant, and Priscilla went slowly up the
wide, luxurious stairs. She turned down the corridor which led to her
own room. There were doors leading out of this corridor at both sides,
and Priscilla caught glimpses of luxurious rooms bright with flowers
and electric light. Girls were laughing and chatting in them; she saw
pictures on the walls and lounges and chairs scattered about. Her own
room was at the far end of the corridor. The electric light was also
brightening it, but the fire was unlit, and the presence of the unpacked
trunk, taking up a