“Thank you,” she said in her stiff, wooden tone; but her eyes did not
look stiff, and the girl began to talk again.
“I believe my room is next to yours. My name is Oliphant— Margaret
Oliphant, but every one calls me Maggie. That is, of course, I mean my
friends do. Would you like to come into my room and let me tell you
some of the rules?”
“Thank you,” said Priscilla again. She longed to add, “I should love
beyond words to come into your room”; but instead she remarked icily,
“I think Miss Heath has given me printed rules.”
“Oh, you have seen our dear Dorothea— I mean Miss Heath. Isn’t she
lovely?”
“I don’t know,” answered Priscilla. “I think she’s rather a plain
person.”
“My dear Miss”— I have not caught your name— “you really are too
deliciously prosaic. Stay here for a month, and then tell me if you
think Dorothea— I mean Miss Heath— plain. No, I won’t say any more. You
must find out for yourself. But now, about the rules. I don’t mean the
_printed_ rules. We have, I assure you, at St. Benet’s all kinds of
little etiquettes which we expect each other to observe. We are
supposed to be democratic and inclined to go in for all that is
advanced in womanhood. But, oh dear, oh dear! let any student dare to
break one of our own little pet proprieties, and you will see how
conservative we can be.”
“Have I broken any of them?” asked Priscilla in alarm. “I did notice
that every one stared at me when I came into the hall, but I thought it
was because my face was fresh, and I hoped people would get accustomed
to me by and by.”
“You poor, dear child, there are lots of fresh faces here besides
yours. You should have come down under the shelter of my wing, then it
would have been all right.”
“But what have I done? Do tell me. I’d much rather know.”
“Well, dear, you have _only_ come into the hall by the dons’ entrance,
and you have _only_ seated yourself at the top of the table, where the
learned students who are going in for a tripos take their august meals.
That is pretty good for a fresher. Forgive me, we call the new girls
freshers for a week or two. Oh, you have done nothing wrong. Of course
not, how could you know any better? Only I think it would be nice to
put you up to our little rules, would it not?”
“I should be very much obliged,” said Priscilla. “And please tell me
now where I ought to sit at dinner.”
Miss Oliphant’s merry eyes twinkled.
“Look down this long hall,” she said. “Observe that door at the further
end— that is the students’ door; through that door you ought to have
entered.”
“Yes— well, well?”
“What an impatient ‘well, well.’ I shall make you quite an enthusiastic
Benetite before dinner is over.”
Priscilla blushed.
“I am sorry I spoke too eagerly,” she said.
“Oh, no, not a bit too eagerly.”
“But please tell me where I ought to have seated myself.”
“There is a table near that lower entrance, Miss——”
“Peel,” interposed Priscilla. “My name is Priscilla Peel.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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