"I can't possible stay," she said in a cold, angry voice. "I must go
back to St. Benet's at once."
She began to button up her waterproof as fast as Miss Elliot-Smith was
unbuttoning it.
"Nonsense, you silly old dear!" said Rosalind, who, having gained her
way, was now in the best of spirits. "You mustn't listen to her, Meta;
she studies a great deal too hard, and a little relaxation will do her
all the good in the world. My dear Miss Peel, you can't be so rude as
to refuse a cup of tea, and I know I shall catch an awful cold if I
don't have one. Do come upstairs for half an hour; do, there's a dear
Prissie!"
Priscilla hesitated. She had no knowledge of so-called "society." Her
instincts told her it was very wrong to humor Rose. She disliked Miss
Elliot-Smith and felt wild at the trick which had been played on her.
Nevertheless, on an occasion of this kind, she was no match for Rose,
who knew perfectly what she was about, and stood smiling and pretty
before her.
"Just for a few moments," said Rosalind, coming up and whispering to
her. "I really won't keep you long. You will just oblige me for a few
minutes."
"Well, but I'm not fit to be seen in this old dress!" whispered back
poor Prissie.
"Oh, yes, you are; you're not bad at all, and I am sure Meta will find
you a secluded corner if you want it-- won't you, Meta?"
"Yes, of course, if Miss Peel wants it," answered Meta.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132