merited holiday.
Priscilla was now a happy girl. She had found her niche in the college;her work was delightful. Under Maggie's advice she became a member ofthe Debating Society, and rather reluctantly allowed her name to beentered in the Dramatic Club. She felt very shy about this, but thatwas because she did not know her own power. To her astonishment,Priscilla found that she could act. If the part suited her she couldthrow herself into it so that she ceased to be awkward, ungainlyPriscilla Peel. Out of herself she was no longer awkward, no longerungainly. She could only personate certain characters; light and airyparts she could not attempt, but where much depended on passion andemotion Priscilla could do splendidly. Every day her friends foundfresh points of interest in this queer girl. Nancy Banister was reallyattached to her, Maggie was most faithful in her declared friendship,and Miss Heath took more notice of Priscilla than of any other girl inthe Hall. The different lecturers spoke highly of Miss Peel'scomprehension, knowledge, and ability. In short, things were going wellwith her, and she owned to her own heart that she had never felt happierin her life.
Prissie, too, was looking forward to the Christmas holidays. She was toreturn home then, and her letters to her three little sisters, to AuntRaby, and to Mr Hayes were full of the delights of her college life.
No one could have been more angry than poor Prissie during thatmiserable time at the Elliot-Smiths'. Many complaints did she resolveto make, and dire was the vengeance which she hoped would fall on Rose'sdevoted head. But, during her talk with Mr Hammond, some of her angerhad cooled down. He had touched on great subjects, and Prissie's soulhad responded like a musical instrument to the light and skilled fingerof the musician. All her intellectual powers were aroused to theirutmost, keenest life during this brief little talk. She found thatHammond could say better and more comprehensive things than even herdear old tutor, Mr Hayes. Hammond was abreast of the present-dayaspect of those things in which Prissie delighted. Her short talk withhim made up for all the tedium of the rest of that wretched afternoon.
On her walk home Priscilla made up her mind to have nothing further tosay to Rose, but also not to make a complaint about her. She would passthe matter over in silence. If questioned, she would tell her ownfriends where she had been; if not questioned, she would volunteer noinformation.
Maggie and Nancy did ask her casually what had kept her out so long.
"I was at the Elliot-Smiths' with Miss Merton," replied Priscilla.
They both started when she said this, and looked at her hard. They weretoo well-bred, however, to give utterance to the many comments whichcrowded to their lips. Prissie read their thoughts like a book.
"I did not like it at all," she said; "but I'd rather say nothing aboutit, please. After Mr Hammond came I was happy."
"Mr Hammond was there?" said Nancy, in an eager voice. "GeoffreyHammond was at the Elliot-Smiths'? Impossible!"
"He was there," repeated Prissie. She glanced nervously at Maggie, whohad taken up a book, and was pretending to read. "He came, and he spoketo me. He was very, very kind, and he made me so happy."
"Dear Prissie," said Maggie, suddenly. She got up, went over to theyoung girl, tapped her affectionately on the shoulder, and left theroom.
Prissie sat, looking thoughtfully before her. After a time she badeNancy Banister "Good-night," and went off to her own room to study thenotes she had taken that morning at the French lecture.
The next few days passed without anything special occurring. If alittle rumour were already beginning to swell in the air, it scarcelyreached the ears of those principally concerned. Maggie Oliphantcontinued to make a special favourite of Miss Peel. She sat near her atbreakfast, and at the meetings of the Dramatic Society was particularlyanxious to secure a good part for Prissie. The members of the societyintended to act _The Princess_ before the end of the term, and as therewas a great deal to work up, and many rehearsals were necessary, theymet in the little theatre on most evenings.
Maggie Oliphant had been unanimously selected to take the part of thePrincess. She electrified everyone by drawing Miss Peel towards her,and saying in an emphatic voice--
"You must be the Prince, Priscilla."
A look of dismay crept over several faces. One or two made differentproposals.
"Would not Nancy Banister take the part better, Maggie?" said MissClaydon, a tall, graceful girl, who was to be Psyche.
"No; Nancy is to be Cyril. She sings well, and can do the partadmirably. Miss Peel must be the Prince: I will have no other lover.What do you say, Miss Peel?"
"I cannot; it is impossible," almost whispered Prissie.
"`Cannot' is a word which must not be listened to in our DramaticSociety," responded Maggie. "I promise to turn you out a mostaccomplished Prince, my friend; no one shall be disappointed in you.Girls, do you leave this matter in my hands? Do you leave the Prince tome?"
"We cannot refuse you the privilege of choosing your own Prince,Princess," said Miss Claydon, with a graceful curtsy.
The others assented, but unwillingly. Miss Oliphant was known to bemore full of whims than anyone else in the college. Her extraordinaryand sudden friendship for Prissie was regarded as her latest caprice.
Rosalind Merton was not a particularly good actress, but her face wastoo pretty not to be called into requisition. She was to take the partof Melissa.
The society had a grand meeting on the day of Polly Singleton's auction.Matters were still very much in a state of chaos, but the rehearsal ofsome of the parts was got through with credit under the directions ofthe clever stage-manager, one of the nicest and best girls in thecollege, Constance Field. She had a knack of putting each girl at herease--of discovering the faintest sparks of genius, and fanning theminto flame.
Priscilla had learned her speeches accurately: her turn came; she stoodup trembling and began. Gradually the stony (or was it yearning?) lookin Maggie's face moved her. She fancied herself Hammond, not thePrince. When she spoke to Maggie she felt no longer like a feebleschool-girl acting a part. She thought she was pleading for Hammond,and enthusiasm got into her voice, and a light filled her eyes. Therewas a little cheer when Priscilla got through her first rehearsal.Nancy Banister came up to Rosalind.
"I do believe Maggie is right," she said, "and that Miss Peel will takethe part capitally."
"Miss Oliphant is well-known for her magnanimity," retorted Rosalind, anugly look spoiling the expression of her face.
"Her magnanimity? What do you mean, Rose?"
"To choose _that_ girl for her Prince!" retorted Rosalind. "Ask MrHammond what I mean. Ask the Elliot-Smiths."
"I don't know the Elliot-Smiths," said Nancy, in a cold voice. Sheturned away; she felt displeased and annoyed.
Rose glanced after her; then she ran up to Maggie Oliphant, who waspreparing to leave the little theatre.
"Don't you want to see the auction?" she said, in a gay voice. "It'sgoing to be the best fun we have had for many a long day."
Maggie turned and looked at her.
"The auction? What auction do you mean?" she asked.
"Why, Polly Singleton's, of course. You've not heard of it? It's _the_event of the term!"
Maggie laughed.
"You must be talking nonsense, Rose," she said. "An auction at StBenet's! A real auction? Impossible!"
"No, it's not impossible. It's true. Polly owes for a lot of things,and she's going to pay for them in that way. Did you not get a notice?Polly declared she would send, one without fail to every girl in thecollege."
"Now I remember," said Miss Oliphant, laughing. "I got an extraordinarytype-written production. I regarded it as a hoax, and consigned it tothe waste-paper basket."
"But it wasn't a hoax; it was true. Come away, Miss Oliphant, do.Polly has got some lovely things."
"I don't think I even know who Polly is," said Maggie. "She surely isnot an inmate of Heath Hall?"
"No, no--of Katharine Hall. You must know her by sight,
at least. Agreat, big, fat girl, with red hair and freckles."
"Yes, now I remember. I think she has rather a pleasant face."
"Oh, do you really? Isn't she awfully common and vulgar-looking?"
"Common and vulgar-looking people are often pleasant, nevertheless,"retorted Maggie.
"You'll come to her auction?" insisted Rose.
"I don't know. She has no right to have an auction. Such a proceedingwould give great displeasure to our Principals."
"How can you tell that? There never was an auction at the collegebefore."
"How can I tell, Rose? Instinct is my guide in a matter of this sort."
Maggie stepped back and looked haughty.
"Well," said Rose, "the Principals won't ever know; we are taking goodcare of that."
"Oh! I hope you may be successful. Good-night."
Maggie turned to walk away. She saw Priscilla standing not far off.
"Come, Prissie," she said, affectionately, "you did admirably to-night,but you must have another lesson. You missed two of the best points inthat last speech. Come back with me into the theatre at once."
Rose bit her lips with vexation. She was wildly anxious to be at theauction. The sealskin might be put up for sale, and she not present.The corals might go to some other happy girl; but she had made a resolveto bring some of the very best girls in the college to this scene ofrioting. Her reckless companions had dared her to do this, and she feltwhat she called "her honour" at stake. Nancy Banister had declined herinvitation with decision; Constance Field had withered her with a look.Now she _must_ secure Maggie.
"I wish you'd come," she said, following Maggie and Prissie to the doorof the theatre. "It will be an awful disappointment if you don't! Weall reckoned on having you."
"What _do_ you mean, Rose?"
"We thought you wouldn't be above a bit of fun. You never used to be,you know. You never used to be strict and proper, and over-righteous,used you?" Priscilla was startled to see the queer change these fewwords made on Maggie. Her cheeks lost their roses; her eyes grew big,pathetic, miserable. Then a defiant expression filled them.
"If you put it in that way," she said, "I'll go and peep at the thing.It isn't my taste, nor my style, but goodness knows I'm no better thanthe rest of you. Come, Prissie."
Maggie seized Priscilla's hand; her clasp was so tight as to be almostpainful. She hurried Prissie along so fast that Rose could scarcelykeep up with them.
They entered the hall. Maggie seized a hat for herself and another forPrissie from the hat-stand; then the three girls crossed the garden toKatharine Hall. A moment or two later they had reached the scene of theevening's amusement.
Loud voices and laughter greeted them; they entered a large room crowdedto overflowing. The atmosphere here was hot and stifling, and chaosreigned supreme. Pictures, ornaments of all kinds had been removedroughly and hastily from the walls; clothes, and even jewels, were piledon the tables, and a tall girl, standing on a chair, was declaimingvolubly for the benefit of her companions. When Maggie, Rose, andPriscilla entered the room Polly was exhibiting the charms of a yellowsilk dress somewhat the worse for wear. Laughter choked her voice; herbright blue eyes shone with excitement and amusement.
"Who'll try this?" she began. "It has a double charm. Not only has itreposed round this fair and lovely form, but the silk of which it ismade was given to me by my mother's aunt, who had it from her motherbefore her. When I part with this, I part with a relic. Those whopurchase it secure for themselves a piece of history. Who will buy, whowill buy, who will buy? An historical dress going--such a bargain!Who, who will buy?"
"I'll give you five shillings, Polly," screamed a dark-eyed girl whostood near.
"Five shillings! This lovely dress going for five shillings!" proceededPolly.
"And sixpence," added another voice.
"This beautiful, historical robe going for five-and-sixpence," said MissSingleton, in her gay voice. "Oh, it's a bargain--it's dirt cheap! Whowill buy? who will buy?"
The bids went up, and finally the yellow dress was knocked down to arosy-faced country girl for the sum of thirteen shillings and ninepence.
Polly's various other possessions were one by one brought to the hammer,some of them fetching fairly large sums, for they were most of them goodand worth having, and there were wealthy girls at the college, who werenot above securing a bargain when it came in their way.
At last the prize on which all Rose's hopes were set was put up forsale. Polly's magnificent sealskin jacket was held aloft, and displayedto the admiring and covetous gaze of many. Rose's face brightened; aneager, greedy look filled her eyes. She actually trembled in heranxiety to secure this prize of prizes.
Maggie Oliphant, who was standing in a listless, indifferent attitudenear the door, not taking the smallest part in the active proceedingswhich were going forward, was for the first time roused to interest bythe expression on Rosalind's face. She moved a step or two into thecrowd, and when one or two timid bids were heard for the covetedtreasure, she raised her own voice, and for the first time appearedeager to secure something for herself.
Rose bid against her, an angry flush filling her blue eyes as she didso. Maggie nonchalantly made her next bid a little higher--Rose raisedhers. Soon they were the only two in the field; other girls had come tothe limit of their purses, and withdrew vanquished from the struggle.
Rosalind's face grew very white. Could she have knocked Maggie Oliphantdown with a blow she would have done so at that moment. Maggie calmlyand quietly continued her bids, raising them gradually higher andhigher. Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten pounds: Rose had come to theend of her resources. She stepped away with a bitter smile on her face.The sealskin jacket was Maggie Oliphant's property for ten guineas.
Maggie laid it carelessly on a table near, and returning once more toher position near the door, watched the sale proceed. One by one PollySingleton parted with her dresses, her pictures, her furniture. Atlast, opening a case, she proceeded to dispose of some trinkets, none ofwhich, with the exception of the pink coral set, was of very high value.This, which consisted of necklace, bracelets, and earrings, and somepretty pins for the hair, was most eagerly coveted by many. Severalgirls bid for the coral, and Maggie, who had not raised her voice sinceshe secured the sealskin jacket, once more noticed the greedy glitter inRosalind's eyes.
"I can't help it," she said, turning and speaking in a low voice toPriscilla, who stood by her side--"I can't help it, Prissie; I don'twant that coral a bit--coral doesn't suit me: I dislike it as anornament. But something inside of me says Rose Merton shall not wearit. Stay here, Prissie, I'll be back in a minute."
Miss Oliphant moved forward; she was so tall that her head could be seenabove those of most of the other girls.
The bids for the coral had now risen to three pounds ten. Maggie at onebound raised them ten shillings. Rose bid against her, and for a shorttime one or two other girls raised their previous offers. The price forthe coral rose and rose. Soon a large sum was offered for it, and stillthe bids kept rising. Rosalind and Maggie were once more alone in thefield, and now any onlooker could perceive that it was not the desire toobtain the pretty ornaments, but the wish for victory which animatedboth girls.
When the bids rose above ten guineas Rosalind's face assumed a ghastlyhue, but she was now far too angry with Maggie to pause or consider thefact that she was offering more money for the pink coral than shepossessed in the world. The bids still went higher and higher. Therewas intense excitement in the room; all the noisy babel ceased. Nosound was heard but the eager voices of the two who were cruellyfighting each other, and the astonished tones of the young auctioneer.Twelve, thirteen, fourteen pounds were reached. Maggie's bid wasfourteen pounds.
"Guineas!" screamed Rose, with a weak sort of gasp.
Maggie turned and looked at her, then walked slowly back to her place byPriscilla's side.
The coral belonged to Rose
Merton, and she had four guineas too littleto pay for it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
A BLACK SELF AND A WHITE SELF.
"It is quite true, Maggie," said Nancy Banister. "It _is_ about theauction. Yes, there is no doubt about that. What possessed you to go?"
Maggie Oliphant was standing in the centre of her own room with an openletter in her hand. Nancy was reading it over her shoulder:--
"Katharine Hall,--
"_December 3_.
"Miss Eccleston and Miss Heath request Miss Oliphant and Miss Peel to present themselves in Miss Eccleston's private sitting-room this evening at seven o'clock."
"That is all," said Maggie. "It sounds as solemn and unfriendly as ifone were about to be tried for some capital offence."
"It's the auction, of course," repeated Nancy. "Those girls thoughtthey had kept it so quiet; but someone must have `peached,' I suppose,to curry favour. Whatever made you go, Maggie? You know you have nevermixed yourself up with that Day, and Merton, and Marsh set. As to thatpoor Polly Singleton, there's no harm in her, but she's a perfectmadcap. What could have possessed you to go?"
"My evil genius," repeated Maggie, in a gloomy tone. "You don't supposeI _wished_ to be there, Nancy; but that horrid little Merton girl saidsomething taunting, and then I forgot myself. Oh,