Priscilla said to herself over and over that there was really no difference— that Miss Oliphant was still as kind to her, as valued a friend as ever— but in her heart she knew that this was not the case. Maggie startled all her friends by making one request. Might they postpone the acting of _The Princess_ until the middle of the following term?” “I cannot do it justice now,” she said. “I cannot throw my heart and soul into my part. If you act the play now you must allow me to withdraw.” The other girls, Constance Field in particular, were astonished. They even felt resentful. All arrangements had been made for this special play. Maggie was to be the Princess herself; no one could possibly take her place. It was most unreasonable of her to withdraw now. But it was one of the facts well known at St. Benet’s that, fascinating as Miss Oliphant was, she was also unreasonable. On certain occasions she could even be disobliging. In short, when Maggie “took the bit between her teeth,” to employ an old metaphor, she could neither be led nor driven. After a great deal of heated discussion and indignant words, she had her will. The play was deferred till the following term, and one or two slight comedies, which had been acted before, were revived in a hurry to take its place. CHAPTER XXII A BLACK SATIN JACKET Very active preparations were being made in a certain rather humble little cottage in the country for the heroine’s return. Three small girls were making themselves busy with holly and ivy, with badly cut paper flowers, with enormous texts coarsely illustrated, to render the home gay and festive in its greeting. A little worn old woman lay on a sofa and superintended these active measures. “How soon will she be here now?” said Hattie the vigorous. “Do stay still, Hattie, and don’t fidget. Don’t you see how tired Aunt Raby looks?” exclaimed Rose. “Prissie can’t be here yet, and you are such a worry when you jump up and down like that, Hattie.” Rose’s words were quite severe, and Hattie planted herself on the edge of a chair, folded her plump hands, managed to get a demure look into her laughing eyes and dimpled mouth and sat motionless for about half a minute. At the end of that time she tumbled on the floor with a loud crash and Aunt Raby sprang to her feet with some alarm. “Good gracious, child! are you hurt? What’s the matter?” Hattie was sitting on the floor in convulsions of mirth. “I’m not hurt,” she exclaimed. “I slipped off the chair. I didn’t mean to; I couldn’t help it, really. I’m sorry I woke you, Aunt Raby.” “I wasn’t asleep, child.” Miss Peel walked across the room and vanished into the kitchen, from which very savory smells issued. Hattie and Rose began to quarrel and argue, and Katie, who was more or less of a little peacemaker, suggested that they should draw up the blind and all three get into the window to watch for Prissie. “I wonder how she will look?” said Rose when they were all comfortably established.