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"We'll talk about Miss Peel. I don't know her as you do, but I'm interested in her."
"Oh, pray don't; I want to keep her to myself."
"Why? Is she such a rara avis?"
"I don't care what she is. She suits me because she loves me without question. She is absolutely sincere; she could not say an untrue thing; she is so clever that I could not talk frivolities when I am with her; and so good, so really, simply good that she keeps at bay my bad half-hours and my reckless moods."
Constance smiled. She believed part of Maggie's speech; not the whole of it, for she knew the enthusiasm of the speaker.
"I am going to Kingsdene," said Maggie suddenly. "Prissie is coming with me. Will you come, too, Constance? I wish you would."
"Thank you," said Constance. She hesitated for a moment. "It is the best thing in the world for Heath Hall," she thought, "that the girls should see me walking with Maggie to-day." Aloud she said, "All right, Maggie, I'll go upstairs and put on my hat and jacket and meet you and Miss Peel in the porch."
"We are going to tea at the Marshalls'," said Maggie. "You don't mind that, do you? You know them, too?"
"Know them? I should think so. Isn't old Mrs. Marshall a picture? And Helen is one of my best friends."
"You shall make Helen happy this afternoon, dear Constance."
Maggie ran gaily out of the room as she spoke, and a few minutes later the three girls, in excellent spirits, started for Kingsdene.
As they entered the town they saw Rosalind Merton coming to meet them.
There was nothing in this, for Rosalind was a gay young person and had many friends in Kingsdene. Few days pa.s.sed that did not see her in the old town on her way to visit this friend or that, or to perpetrate some little piece of extravagance at Spilman's or at her dressmaker's.
On this occasion, however, Rosalind was neither at Spilman's or the dressmaker's. She was walking demurely down the High Street, daintily dressed and charming to look at, in Hammond's company. Rosalind was talking eagerly and earnestly, and Hammond, who was very tall, was bending down to catch her words, when the other three girls came briskly round a corner and in full view of the pair.
"Oh!" exclaimed Priscilla aloud in her abrupt, startled way. Her face became suffused with a flood of the deepest crimson, and Maggie, who felt a little annoyed at seeing Hammond in Rosalind's company, could not help noticing Priscilla's almost uncontrollable agitation.
Rosalind, too, blushed, but prettily, when she saw the other three girls come up.
"I will say good-by now, Mr. Hammond," she said, "for I must get back to St. Benet's in good time tonight."
She held out her hand, which the young man took and shook cordially.
"I am extremely obliged to you," he said.
Maggie was near enough to hear his words. Rosalind tripped past her three fellow-students with an airy little nod and the faint beginning of a mocking curtsy.
Hammond came up to the three girls and joined them at once.
"Are you going to the Marshalls'?" he said to Maggie.
"Yes."
"So am I. What a lucky rencontre."
He said another word or two and then the four turned to walk down the High Street. Maggie walked on in front with Constance. Hammond fell to Priscilla's share.
"I am delighted to see you again," she said in her eager, agitated, abrupt way.
"Are you?" he replied in some astonishment. Then he hastened to say something polite. "I forgot, we had not ended our discussion. You almost convinced me with regard to the superior merits of the Odyssey, but not quite. Shall we renew the subject now?"
"No, please don't. That's not why I'm glad to see you. It's for something quite, quite different. I want to say something to you, and it's most important. Can't we just keep back a little from the others?
I don't want Maggie to hear."
Now why were Miss Oliphant's ears so sharp that afternoon? Why, even in the midst of her gay chatter to Constance, did she hear every word of Priscilla's queer, garbled speech? And why did astonishment and even anger steal into her heart?
What she did, however, was to gratify Prissie immensely by hurrying on with her companion, so that she and Hammond were left comfortably in the background.
"I don't quite know what you mean," he said stiffly. "What can you possibly have of importance to say to me?"
"I don't want Maggie to hear," repeated Prissie in her earnest voice.
She knew far too little of the world to be in the least alarmed at Hammond's stately tones.
"What I want to say is about Maggie, and yet it isn't."
"About Miss Oliphant?"
"Oh, yes, but she's Maggie to me. She's the dearest, the best-- there's no one like her, no one. I didn't understand her at first, but now I know how n.o.ble she is. I had no idea until I knew Maggie that a person could have faults and yet be n.o.ble. It's a new sort of experience to me."
Prissie's eyes, in which even in her worst moments there always sat the soul of a far-reaching sort of intelligence, were shining now through tears. Hammond saw the tears, and the lovely expression in the eyes, and said to himself:
"Good heavens, could I ever have regarded that dear child as plain?"
Aloud he said in a softened voice, "I'm awfully obliged to you for saying these sorts of things of Miss-- Miss Oliphant, but you must know, at least you must guess, that I-- I have thought them for myself long, long ago."
"Yes, of course, I know that. But have you much faith? Do you keep to what you believe?"
"This is a most extraordinary girl!" murmured Hammond. Then he said aloud, "I fail to understand you."
They had now nearly reached the Marshalls' door. The other two were waiting for them.
"It's this," said Prissie, clasping her hands hard and speaking in her most emphatic and distressful way. "There are unkind things being said of Maggie, and there's one girl who is horrid to her-- horrid! I want you not to believe a word that girl says."
"What girl do you mean?"
"You were walking with her just now."
"Really, Miss Peel, you are the most extraordinary--"
But Maggie Oliphant's clear, sweet voice interrupted them.
"Had we not better come into the house?" she said. "The door has been open for quite half a minute."
Poor Prissie rushed in first, covered with shame; Miss Field hastened after, to bear her company; and Hammond and Maggie brought up the rear.
CHAPTER XX
A PAINTER