This is
true as regards evil and good things alike.
One foggy morning, toward the end of November, Priscilla was standing
by the door of one of the lecture-rooms, a book of French history, a
French grammar and exercise-book and thick note-book in her hand. She
was going to her French lecture and was standing patiently by the
lecture-room door, which had not yet been opened.
Priscilla's strongest bias was for Greek and Latin, but Mr. Hayes had
recommended her to take up modern languages as well, and she was
steadily plodding through the French and German, for which she had not
so strong a liking as for her beloved classics. Prissie was a very
eager learner, and she was busy now looking over her notes of the last
lecture and standing close to the door, so as to be one of the first
to take her place in the lecture-room.
The rustling of a dress caused her to look round, and Rosalind Merton
stood by her side. Rosalind was by no means one of the "students" of
the college. She attended as few lectures as were compatible with her
remaining there, but French happened to be one of the subjects which
she thought it well to take up, and she appeared now by Prissie's side
with the invariable notebook, without which no girl went to lecture,
in her hand.
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