The splendid thoughts appealed to her powerfully; her face
glowed with pleasure. She lived in the noble past; she was a Greek
with the old Greeks; she forgot the nineteenth century, with its
smallness, its money worries-- above all, she forgot her own cares.
At last in her reading she came to a difficult sentence, which, try as
she would, she could not render into English to her own satisfaction.
She was a very careful student and always disliked shirking
difficulties; the pleasure of her reading would be lost if she did not
do full justice to the lines which puzzled her. She resolved to read
no further until Maggie appeared. Maggie Oliphant, with her superior
information, would soon cut the knot for her. She closed the copy of
Euripides with reluctance, and, putting her hand into her pocket, took
out a note she had just received, to mark the place.
A moment or two later Maggie came in.
"Still here, Prissie!" she exclaimed in her somewhat indifferent but
good-natured voice. "What a bookworm you are turning into!"
"I have been waiting for you to help me, if you will, Maggie," said
Priscilla. "I have lost the right clew to the full sense of this
passage-- see! Can you give it to me?"
Maggie sat down at once, took up the book, glanced her eyes over the
difficult words and translated them with ease.
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