“Oh, I managed to,” said Hattie in a stage whisper. “Aunt Raby came
upstairs half an hour ago, and she undressed very fast, and got into
bed, and I heard her snoring in about a minute. It was then I slipped
away. She never heard.”
“Hop up on the bed now, Prissie,” exclaimed Rose, another of the
children, “and let us all have a chat. Here, Katie, if you’ll promise
not to cry, you may get into the middle, between Hattie and me, then
you’ll be very close to darling Prissie.”
Katie was the youngest of the three occupants of the bed; she was about
eight years old; her small face was delicate in its outline, her mouth
peevish; she did not look a strong child, and self-control could
scarcely be expected of her.
Priscilla placed her candle on the chimney-piece, jumped on the bed
according to orders and looked earnestly at her three small sisters.
“Now, Prissie,” said Hattie in the important little voice which she
always used, “begin, go on— tell us all about your grand college life.”
“How can I, Hattie, when I don’t know what to say. I can’t _guess_ what
I am to do at college.”
“Oh, dear,” sighed Rose, “I only wish I were the one to go! It will be
very dull living with Aunt Raby when you are away, Priscilla. She won’t
let us take long walks, and if ever we go in for a real, jolly lark we
are sure to be punished. Oh, dear, oh, dear!”
“Even though it is for your good, I wish with all my heart you were not
going away, Prissie,” said Hattie in her blunt fashion.
Katie burst into sudden loud wails.
Priscilla colored. Then she spoke with firmness. “We have had enough of
this kind of talk. Katie, you shall come and sit in my lap, darling.
I’ll wrap you up quite warm in this big shawl. Now, girls,” she said,
“what _is_ the use of making things harder? You know, perfectly, you
two elder ones, why I must go away, and you, Katie, you know also,
don’t you, pet?”
“Yes, Prissie,” answered Katie, speaking in a broken, half-sobbing
voice, “only I _am_ so lonely.”
“But you’re not going to be selfish, darling. By and by I’ll come back
to you all. Once every year, at least, I’ll come back. And then, after
I’ve gone through my course of study, I’ll get a situation of some
sort— a good situation— and you three shall come and live with me.
There, what do you say to that? Only three years, and then such a jolly
time. Why, Katie will be only eleven then.”
Priscilla spoke in a remarkably cheerful voice, but the appalling
magnitude of three years could not be diminished, and the three little
sisters who were to stay behind with Aunt Raby were still disposed to
view things dismally.
“If _she_ wasn’t just what she is——” began Hattie.
“If she didn’t think the least tiny morsel of a lark wrong——” continued
Rose.
“Why, then we could pull along somehow,” sighed Hattie.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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