"How lovely!" said Prissie, clasping her hands and giving herself up
to a feeling of enjoyment. "Don't stop, Maggie, please; do read some
more!"
Miss Oliphant smiled.
"Enthusiast!" she murmured.
She translated with brilliancy to the end of the page; then, throwing
the book on her knee, repeated the whole passage aloud in Greek.
The note that Prissie put in as a mark fell on the floor. She was so
lost in delighted listening that she did not notice it, but, when
Maggie at last stopped for want of breath, Priscilla saw the little
note, stooped forward to pick it up, glanced at the handwriting, and a
shadow swept over her expressive face.
"Oh! thank you, Maggie, thank you," she exclaimed; "it is beautiful,
entrancing! It made me forget everything for a short time, but I must
not listen to any more; it is, indeed, most beautiful, but not for
me."
"What do you mean, you little goose? You will soon read Euripides as
well as I do. What is more, you will surpass me, Priscilla; your
talent is greater than mine."
"Don't say that, Maggie; I can scarcely bear it when you do."
"Why do you say you can scarcely bear it? Do you love me so well that
you hate to excel me? Silly child, as if I cared!"
"Maggie, I know you are really too great to be possessed by petty
weaknesses.
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