“Well,” said Hetty Jones, standing up reluctantly, for she felt it was time to return to her neglected studies, “wonders will never cease! I could not have supposed that Mr. Hammond would condescend to go near the Elliot-Smiths’, and most certainly I should never have guessed that he would look at a girl like Priscilla Peel.” “Well, he flirted with her,” said Rosalind, “and she with him. They were so delighted with one another that I could scarcely get Prissie away when it was time to leave. They looked quite engrossed— you know the kind of air— there was no mistaking it!” “Miss Peel must have thanked you for taking her.” “Thanked me? That’s not Miss Prissie’s style. I could see she was awfully vexed at being disturbed.” “Well, it’s rather shabby,” said Polly Singleton, speaking for the first time. “Every one at St. Benet’s know whom Mr. Hammond belongs.” “Yes, yes, of course, of course,” cried several voices. “And Maggie has been so kind to Miss Peel,” continued Polly. “Yes— shame!— how mean of little Propriety!” the voices echoed again. Rosalind gave a meaning glance at Annie Day. Annie raised her eyebrows, looked interrogative, then her face subsided into a satisfied expression. She asked no further questions, but she gave Rosalind an affectionate pat on the shoulder. Soon the other girls came up one by one to say good night. Rosalind, Annie and Lucy were alone. They drew their chairs together and began to talk. CHAPTER XVI PRETTY LITTLE ROSALIND “I have done it now,” said Rosalind; “the estrangement will come about naturally. Propriety won’t head a party at this college, for she will not have Miss Oliphant’s support. My dear girls, we need do nothing further. The friendship we regretted is at an end.” “Did you take Priscilla Peel to the Elliot-Smiths’ on purpose, then?” asked Miss Day. “I took her there for my own purposes,” replied Rosalind. “I wanted to go. I could not go alone, as it is against our precious rules. It was not convenient for any of my own special friends to come with me, so I thought I’d play Prissie a nice little trick. Oh, wasn’t she angry! My dear girls, it was as good as a play to watch her face.” Rosalind lay back in her chair and laughed heartily. Her laughter was as melodious as the sound of silver bells. “Well,” said Miss Marsh after a pause, “I wish you would stop laughing and go on with your story, Rose.” Rosalind resumed her grave deportment. “That’s all,” she said; “there’s nothing more to tell.” “Did you know, then, that Mr. Hammond would be there?”