by L. T. Meade
theirautographs, and kissing their photographs, and framing them, and puttingthem up in their rooms. I hate that mawkish kind of nonsense,"continued Miss Day, looking very virtuous, "and I think Miss Heath oughtto know about it, and put a stop to it. I do, really."
Rosalind was glad that the gathering darkness prevented her sharpcompanion from seeing the blush on her face; for amongst her own sacredpossessions she kept an autograph letter of Maggie's, and she hadpassionately kissed Maggie's beautiful face as it looked at her out of aphotograph, and, until the moment when all her feelings had undergonesuch a change, was secretly saving up her pence to buy a frame for it.Now she inquired eagerly--
"What is the mystery about Miss Oliphant? So many people hint about it,I do wish you would tell me, Annie."
"If I told you, pet, it would cease to be a mystery."
"But you might say what you know. _Do_, Annie!"
"Oh, it isn't much--it's really nothing; and yet--and yet--"
"You know it isn't nothing, Annie!"
"Well, when Annabel died, people said that Maggie had more cause thananyone else to be sorry. I never could find out what that cause was;but the servants spread some reports. They said they had found Maggieand Annabel together; Annabel had fainted, and Maggie was in an awfulstate of misery--in quite an unnatural state, they said; she went intohysterics, and Miss Heath was sent for, and was a long time soothingher. There was no apparent reason for this, although, somehow or other,little whispers got abroad that the mystery of Annabel's illness andMaggie's distress was connected with Geoffrey Hammond. Of course,nothing was known, and nothing is known; but, certainly, the littlewhisper got into the air. Dear me, Rosalind, you need not eat me withyour eyes. I am repeating mere conjectures, and it is highly probablethat not the slightest notice would have been taken of this littlerumour but for the tragedy which immediately followed. Annabel, who hadbeen as gay and well as anyone at breakfast that morning, was never seenin the college again. She was unconscious, the servants said, for along time, and when she awoke was in high fever. She was removed to thehospital, and Maggie had seen the last of her friend. Poor Annabel diedin two days, and afterwards Maggie took the fever. Yes, she has beenquite changed since then. She always had moods, as she called them, butnot like now. Sometimes I think she is almost flighty."
Rosalind was silent. After a while she said, in a prim little voice,which she adopted now and then when she wanted to conceal her realfeelings--
"But I do wonder what the quarrel was about--I mean, what reallyhappened between Annabel and Maggie."
"Look here, Rosalind, have I said anything about a quarrel? Pleaseremember that the whole thing is conjecture from beginning to end, anddon't go all over the place spreading stories and making mischief. Ihave told you this in confidence, so don't forget."
"I won't forget," replied Rosalind. "I don't know why you should accuseme of wanting to make mischief, Annie. I can't help being curious, ofcourse, and, of course, I'd like to know more."
"Well, for that matter, so would I," replied Annie. "Where there is amystery it's much more satisfactory to get to the bottom of it. Ofcourse, something dreadful must have happened to account for the changein Miss Oliphant. It would be a comfort to know the truth, and, ofcourse, one need never talk of it. By the way, Rosie, you are just theperson to ferret this little secret out; you are the right sort ofperson for spying and peeping."
"Oh, thank you," replied Rosalind; "if that's your opinion of me I'm notinclined to do anything to please you. Spying and peeping, indeed!What next?"
Annie Day patted her companion's small white hand.
"And so I've hurt the dear little baby's feelings!" she said. "But Ididn't mean to--no, that I didn't. And she such a pretty, sweet, littlepet as she is! Well, Rosie, you know what I mean. If we can find outthe truth about Miss Maggie we'll just have a quiet little crow over herall to ourselves. I don't suppose we shall find out; but opportunitiesmay arise--who knows? Now I want to speak to you about another person,and that is Maggie's new friend."
"What new friend?" Rosalind blushed brightly.
"That ugly Priscilla Peel. She has taken her up. Anyone can see that."
"Oh, I don't think so."
"But I do--I am sure of it. Now I have good reason not to like MissPriscilla. You know what a virtuous parade she made of herself a fewnights ago?"
"Yes, you told me."
"Horrid, set-up minx! Just the sort of girl who ought to be suppressed,and crushed out of a college like ours. Vaunting her poverty in ourvery faces, and refusing to make herself pleasant or one with us in anysort of way. Lucy Marsh and I had a long talk over her that night, andwe put our heads together to concoct a nice little bit of punishment forher. You know she's horridly shy, and as _gauche_ as if she lived inthe backwoods, and we meant to `send her to Coventry.' We had it allarranged, and a whole lot of girls would have joined us, for it'scontrary to the spirit of a place like this to allow girls of thePriscilla Peel type to become popular, or liked in any way. But, mostunluckily, poor, dear, good, but stupid, Nancy Banister was in the roomwhen Prissie made her little oration, and Nancy took her up as if shewere a heroine, and spoke of her as if she had done somethingmagnificent, and, of course, Nancy told Maggie, and now Maggie is asthick as possible with Prissie. So you see, my dear Rosalind, ourvirtuous little scheme is completely knocked on the head."
"I don't see--" began Rosalind.
"You little goose, before a week is out Prissie will be the fashion.All the girls will flock round her when Maggie takes her part. Bare,ugly rooms will be the rage; poverty will be the height of the fashion,and it will be considered wrong even to go in for the recognised collegerecreations. Rosie, my love, we must nip this growing mischief in thebud."
"How?" asked Rosalind.
"We must separate Maggie Oliphant and Priscilla Peel."
"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 oftea. No time for it in my room to-night--let's come into the hall andhave some there. Look here, Rosalind, I'll ask Lucy Marsh to have cocoato-night in my room, and you can come too. Now keep a silent tongue inyour head, Baby."
CHAPTER TWELVE.
A GOOD THING TO BE YOUNG.
It was long past the tea-hour at Heath Hall when Maggie Oliphant andPriscilla started on their walk home. The brightness and gaiety of themerry party at the Marshalls' had increased as the moments flew on.Even Priscilla had caught something of the charm. The kindly spiritwhich animated everyone seemed to get into her. She first becameinterested, then she forgot herself. Prissie was no longer awkward; shebegan to talk, and when she liked she could talk well.
As the two girls were leaving the house, Geoffrey Hammond put in asudden appearance.
"I will see you home," he said to Maggie.
"No, no, you mustn't," she answered; her tone was vehement. She forgotPrissie's presence, and half-turned her back on her.
"How unkind you are!" said the young man, in a low tone.
"No, Geoffrey, but I am struggling--you don't know how hard I amstruggling--to be true to myself."
"You are altogether mistaken in your idea of truth," said Hammond,turning, and walking a little way by her side.
"I am not mistaken--I am right."
"Well, at least allow me to explain my side of the question."
"No, it cannot be; there shall be no explanations, I am resolved.Good-night, you must not come any further."
She held out her hand. Hammond took it limply between his own.
"You are very cruel," he murmured, in the lowest of voices.
He raised his hat, forgot even to bow to Priscilla, and hurried off downa side street.
Maggie walked on a little way. Then she turned, and looked down thestreet where he had vanished. Suddenly she raised her hand to her lips,kissed it, and blew the kiss after the figure which had already
disappeared. She laughed excitedly when she did this, and her wholeface was glowing with a beautiful colour.
Prissie, standing miserable and forgotten by the tall, handsome girl'sside, could see the light in her eyes, and the glow on her checks in thelamplight.
"I am here," said Priscilla, at last, in a low, half-frightened voice."I am sorry I am here, but I am. I heard what you said to Mr Hammond.I am sorry I heard."
Maggie turned slowly, and looked at her. Prissie returned her gaze.Then, as if further words were wrung from her against her will, shecontinued--
"I