She took it out of her pocket and read the contents: "You have had sufficient money spent on your schooling. You will be eighteen your next birthday, and surely by then you can earn your living. I don't want you to take a post as teacher, for by all accounts teachers are badly paid. You can stay with us for six months and learn dairy-work under your aunt, and how to manage a household. There will be plenty for a hearty lass to do in looking after the little ones and attending to the linen, and helping your aunt, whenever you have an odd minute, at making the children's clothes. If you don't turn out a success--and your aunt Susan will tell you that pretty smart--I will apprentice you to Miss Johnson in the village, where you can learn dressmaking--a fifty times better thing, in my opinion, than teaching. We will expect you this day fortnight, and I will come to the station in the spring-cart to meet you.--Your affectionate uncle, Josiah Henderson." Priscilla crushed up the letter, flung it from her, and stamped on it. She was employed in this way when a voice behind caused her to turn her head, and she saw Annie Brooke running to meet her. "Oh Priscie, whatever is the matter? What _are_ you killing? You are stamping your foot with all your might. What poor creature has been silly enough to offend you?" "It is this poor creature," said Priscilla. She lifted the mangled letter and held it between her finger and thumb. "It is this horror," she said. "I am nearly mad. If you had a future like mine hanging over you, you would be off your head too." "Oh, poor Priscie!" said Annie. "I do sympathise--I do really. Your uncle must be a dreadful man. Why, of course you must not leave school; you are cleverer than all the rest of us put together. Mrs Lyttelton thinks no end of you. She is prouder of you than of any other pupil she possesses. Of course you must not go." "It is very kind of you to be so sympathetic, Annie, replied Priscilla; person who pays for my schooling is Uncle Josiah. He has paid for it ever since father went back to India, and he doesn't mean to pay any more. He says so in this letter. He says I am to go back to help Aunt Susan; and if I fail in pleasing her I am to be apprenticed to a country dressmaker. He considers either occupation preferable to that of a teacher. So here I am, Annie, and no one can alter the state of things." "But you would give anything in the world to stay, notwithstanding your uncle's letter?" "Anything," cried Priscilla. "I said just now what is true, that I would give ten years of my life; I would be twenty-eight instead of just eighteen, and you know what that means--all one's youth gone." "You must be desperately in earnest," said Annie, "if you mean that, for of course to be twenty-eight means to be quite an old maid. I do pity you, poor Priscilla!"