You know she never
would tell us the artist's name. Yes, she had pretty things
everywhere! How the room is altered! I don't think I care for it a bit
now."
"Could any one who knew Annabel Lee care for the room without her?"
asked one of the girls. She had a common, not to say vulgar, face, but
it wore a wistful expression as she uttered these words.
All this time Priscilla was standing, feeling utterly shy and
miserable. From time to time other girls came in; they nodded to her
and then rushed upon their companions. The eager talk began afresh,
and always there were looks of regret and allusions, accompanied by
sighs, to the girl who had lived in the room last.
"Well," said one merry little girl, who was spoken to by the others as
Ada Hardy, "I have no doubt that by and by, when Miss----" She glanced
toward Priscilla.
"Peel," faltered Priscilla.
"When Miss Peel unpacks her trunk, she'll make the room look very
pretty, too."
"She can't," said Miss Day in a tragic voice; "she never could make
the room look at it used to-- not if she was to live till the age of
Methuselah. Of course you'll improve it, Miss Peel; you couldn't
possibly exist in it as it is now."
"I can tell you of a capital shop in Kingsdene, Miss Peel," said Miss
Marsh, "where you can buy tables and chairs, and pretty artistic
cloths, and little whatnots of all descriptions.
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