"What fancies you have, child!" said Aunt Raby. "The Prodigal Son,
indeed! Thank Heaven, I've never had to do with that sort! As to
Priscilla here, she's as steady as Old Time. Well, child, and are you
getting up your learning very fast?"
"Pretty well, Aunt Raby."
"And you like your grand college and all those fine young-lady friends
of yours?"
"I haven't any fine young-lady friends."
"H'm! I dare say they are like other girls; a little bit of learning
and a great deal of dress, eh?"
Priscilla colored.
"There are all sorts of girls at St. Benet's," she said after a pause.
"Some are real students, earnest, devoted to their work."
"Have you earned any money yet, Prissie?" exclaimed Hattie. "For if
you have, I do want-- look----" She thrust a small foot, encased in a
broken shoe, prominently into view.
"Hattie, go to bed this minute!" exclaimed Aunt Raby. "Go up to your
room all three of you little girls. No more words-- off at once, all
of you. Prissie, you and I will go into the drawing-room, and I'll lie
on the sofa while you tell me a little of your college life."
"Aunt Raby always lies on the sofa in the evenings now," burst from
Hattie the irrepressible.
Miss Peel rushed after the plump little girl and pushed her out of the
room.
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