"
"Oh, I cannot, I cannot! You have no idea how I hate Priscilla."
"I am not surprised; the children of darkness generally hate those who
walk in the light."
"Maggie, I can't beg her pardon."
"You can please yourself about that: I certainly shall not force you;
but, unless you beg Priscilla's pardon and confess to her the wicked
deed you have done, I shall lend you no money to go home. You can go
to your room now, Rosalind; I am tired and wish to go to bed. You will
be able to let me know your decision in the morning."
Rosalind turned slowly away. She reached her room before the other
girls had arrived home, and tossing the coral ornaments on her
dressing-table, she flung herself across her bed and gave way to the
most passionate, heart-broken sobs that had ever rent her baby frame.
She was still sobbing, but more quietly, for the force of her passion
had exhausted her, when a very light touch on her shoulder caused her
to raise herself and look up wildly. Prissie was bending over her.
"I knocked several times," she said, "but you did not hear me, so I
came in. You will be sick if you cry like this, Rose. Let me help you
go to bed."
"No, no; please don't touch me. I don't want you, of all people, to do
anything for me.
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