" She lifted the tray. "Empty,
you see," she added, pointing with her hand to the lower portion of
the trunk-- "nothing here to make my room pretty, and cozy, and
home-like." Then she shut the trunk again and locked it, and going up
to where the three girls stood, gazing at her in bewilderment and some
alarm, she unfastened her purse and turned all its contents into the
palm of her hand.
"Look, Miss Marsh," she said, turning to the girl who had spoken last.
"You may count what is here. One sovereign, one half-sovereign, two or
three shillings, some pence. Would this money go far at Spilman's, do
you think?"
Priscilla put it all slowly back again into her purse. Her face was
still absolutely colorless. She laid the purse on the top of her
bureau.
"I do not suppose," she said in a low, sad voice, "that I am the sort
of girl who often comes to a place of this sort. I am poor, and I have
got to work hard, and I have no time for pleasure. Nevertheless," she
added-- and now a great wave of color swept over her face, and her
eyes were lit up, and she had a sensation of feeling quite glad, and
strong, and happy-- "I am not going away because I am poor, and I am
not going to mind what any one thinks of me as long as I do right.
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