“I would not be jealous if I were you, Nancy,” said Maggie’s lazy, sweet voice. “The poor girl is as queer as her name, but it gives me a kind of aesthetic pleasure to be good to people. _You_ have no cause to be jealous, sweet pet.” Priscilla raised one trembling hand and noiselessly put out her candle. Her feet seemed rooted to the spot. Nancy murmured something which Priscilla could not hear. Then there was the sound of one girl kissing another, and Maggie’s light laugh was heard again. “The unfortunate girl has fallen in love with you, there’s no doubt about that, Maggie,” said Nancy. “Well, my dear, she’ll get over that little fever presently. When I’m kind to them, they all have it. I believe I am gracious to them just because I like to see that grateful, affectionate expression in their eyes. The fact is, Nance, I have a perfectly crazy desire to excite love.” “But do you give love, Maggie? Do you ever give it back in return?” “Sometimes. I don’t know, I believe I am rather fond of you, for instance.” “Maggie, was Geoffrey Hammond at St. Hilda’s this afternoon?” “I can’t possibly say,” replied Maggie in a cold voice. Then she added excitedly, “I don’t believe the door is shut! You are so careless, Nannie, so indifferent to the fact that there _may_ be eavesdroppers about.” Priscilla crept back to her room. She had forgotten all about her purse; every other feeling was completely swallowed up in a burning, choking sense of anger. CHAPTER V WHY PRISCILLA PEEL WENT TO ST. BENET’S Priscilla had received a shock, and hers was not the sort of nature to take such a blow easily. She was a reserved girl, but her feelings were deep, her affections very strong. Priscilla had a rather commonplace past, but it was the sort of past to foster and deepen the peculiarities of her character. Her father had died when she was twelve, her mother when she was fourteen. They were north-country folk, and they possessed all the best characteristics of their class. They were rigidly upright people, they never went in debt; they considered luxuries bad for the soul and the smaller refinements of life altogether unnecessary. Mr. Peel managed to save a little money out of his earnings. He took year by year these savings to the nearest county bank and invested them to the best of his ability. The bank broke, and in one fell stroke he lost all the savings of a life. This affected his health, and he never held up his head or recovered his vigor of mind and body again. He died and two years afterward his wife followed him. Priscilla was then fourteen and there were three little sisters several years younger. They were merry little children, strong, healthy, untouched by care. Priscilla, on the contrary, was grave and looked much older than her years.