A Sweet Girl Graduate | Page 7

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 position of prominence on the floor, gave it a very unhomelike feel. In itself the room was particularly picturesque. It had two charming lattice windows, set in deep square bays. One window faced the fireplace, the other the door. The effect was slightly irregular, but for that very reason all the more charming. The walls of the room were painted light blue; there was a looking-glass over the mantel-piece set in a frame of the palest, most delicate blue. A picture-rail ran round the room about six feet from the ground, and the high frieze above had a scroll of wild roses painted on it in bold, free relief.
The panels of the doors were also decorated with sprays of wild flowers in picturesque confusion. Both the flowers and the scroll were boldly designed, but were unfinished, the final and completing touches remaining yet to be given.
Priscilla looked hungrily at these unexpected trophies of art. She could have shouted with glee as she recognized some of