Mr Manchuri was a person who seldom had his soft moods; but he was very kind to Priscilla. She found the house most luxurious, and was allowed to do exactly what she liked in it. The housekeeper, Mrs Wolf, petted her a good deal, and the other servants were most respectful to her. She was given a large, luxurious room to sleep in, and was allowed to do what she liked with herself while Mr Manchuri was busy all day long over his business affairs. So one day lengthened into two, and two into three; and a week passed, and still Priscilla was the guest of old Mr Manchuri. It was a Sunday evening, the first Sunday after her visit, when she and the old man were seated together, and the old man put out his hand and touched hers and said: "There is a dress of Esther's upstairs; it is all grey and long and straight, and belongs to no special fashion, and I believe if you put it on it would exactly fit you; and I think, in this sort of half-light, if you came down to me in that dress I should almost believe that Esther had returned." "But I can't wear the dress," said Priscilla, "because of that which I have told you; nor can I see the portrait of your Esther for the same reason." "Now, my dear," said Mr Manchuri, "I won't ask you to wear the dress and I won't show you the portrait of my child until you yourself ask me to do so. But what I do want to say is this: that whatever happens, I am your friend; and as to your having done something that you call wicked-- why, there--I don't believe it. What can a young girl who is not yet seventeen have done? Why, look at me, my dear. I am as worldly an old fellow as ever lived, and I have made a capital good bit of business while at Interlaken. It is connected with that secret that I hinted to you about when we were on our way back from Interlaken." "Mr Manchuri," said Priscilla, "what you have done in your life cannot affect what I have done in mine. I have done a very bad thing. It seems dreadful to me, and"--here she looked at him in a frightened way--"you attract me very much," she said. "You have been so wonderfully kind to me, and the thought of your Esther seems to give me a sort of fascination towards you, and if you will let me I--I--should like to tell you what I have done." "Ay?" said the old man, rubbing his hands. "Now we are coming to the point." "You will send me away, of course," said Priscilla; "I know that. I know, too, that you will counsel me to do the only right thing left, and that is to make a clean breast of everything to Mrs Lyttelton." "She is your schoolmistress?" "Yes." "Then it is something you have done at school?" "That is it." "Oh, a schoolgirl offence--a scrape of that sort! My dear young lady, my dear Priscilla, when you come to my age you won't think much of things of that sort." "I hope I shall never think lightly of them," said Priscilla; "that would be quite the worst of all." "Well, out with it now. I am ready to listen."