Priscilla did not reply. She walked on a little faster. She wanted Annie to leave her, but instead of doing this, Annie Brooke slipped her hand through Priscilla's arm. "Have you written your prize essay yet?" she said. Priscilla brought herself back to the subject of the essay with an effort. "Oh yes," she replied; "I finished it last night." "I suppose it is very good?" said Annie. "I thought it was at the time," answered Priscilla; "but where is the use of worrying about it? Uncle Josiah wouldn't think a scrap more about me if I wrote the finest prize essay in the world. On the contrary, he would be more disgusted than pleased. If I had received this letter a week ago I should not have bothered about the essay. I don't even know now that I shall compete." "I wonder," said Annie. "What is the matter with you, Annie?" "I have a thought in my head, Priscie--such a funny thought. You know Mabel Lushington?" "Why, of course." "She is just as angry as you are. You remember you both got letters at the same time. You read yours and told us about it. Then you left the room. Afterwards she read hers. What do you think her letter was about?" "I am afraid I neither know nor care," replied Priscilla. "That is very selfish of you, for you ought to care. Well, I will tell you. She has got to stay at school, whether she likes it or not." "Lucky, lucky girl!" said Priscilla. "But that is just the point, you old silly. She doesn't consider herself at all lucky. She hates and detests school, and wants to go; she would give all the world to go." "And can't she?" "No; at least there is scarcely a chance. Her aunt has subjected her to a ridiculous test. She says that if by any chance Mabel wins the first prize in the literature competition she may leave school and join her in Paris. If she does not win it, she has to stay here for another year. Mabel is nearly mad, for of course she has not a chance of the prize." "Not a chance," said Priscilla. "But you don't care about winning it, and you are the one who is sure to do so." "I don't greatly care," said Priscilla. "Of course, I would rather win than not win; that is about all." "Suppose--suppose," said Annie--"I am not saying it could be done, and I am not saying it is right--I am not pretending to any conscience in the matter; but--_suppose_--you and Mabel changed essays; and--suppose _you_ had your dearest wish, and Mabel _her_ dearest wish--you stayed at school for another year and Mabel went to Paris to join her aunt. Now-- just suppose." CHAPTER THREE. TO CATCH AT A STRAW. Priscilla's eyes, large, dark, grey, and full of feeling, opened to their widest extent as she turned them now and fixed them on her companion. "What do you mean?" she said. "Do you know that you are a horrible girl to propose anything of this sort. How dare you? I don't want to speak to you again."