"What I want to say is about Maggie, and yet it isn't."
"About Miss Oliphant?"
"Oh, yes, but she's Maggie to me. She's the dearest, the best--
there's no one like her, no one. I didn't understand her at first, but
now I know how noble she is. I had no idea until I knew Maggie that a
person could have faults and yet be noble. It's a new sort of
experience to me."
Prissie's eyes, in which even in her worst moments there always sat
the soul of a far-reaching sort of intelligence, were shining now
through tears. Hammond saw the tears, and the lovely expression in the
eyes, and said to himself:
"Good heavens, could I ever have regarded that dear child as plain?"
Aloud he said in a softened voice, "I'm awfully obliged to you for
saying these sorts of things of Miss-- Miss Oliphant, but you must
know, at least you must guess, that I-- I have thought them for myself
long, long ago."
"Yes, of course, I know that. But have you much faith? Do you keep to
what you believe?"
"This is a most extraordinary girl!" murmured Hammond. Then he said
aloud, "I fail to understand you."
They had now nearly reached the Marshalls' door. The other two were
waiting for them.
"It's this," said Prissie, clasping her hands hard and speaking in her
most emphatic and distressful way.
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