"About as far as you can be."

"And that is why all the girls have stared so at me."

"Yes, of course; but let them stare. Who minds such a trifle?"

Priscilla sat silent for a few moments. One of the neat waiting-maids
removed her plate; her almost untasted dinner lay upon it. Miss
Oliphant turned to attack some roast mutton with truly British vigor.

By and by Priscilla's voice, stiff but with a break in it, fell upon
her ear.

"I think the students at St. Benet's must be very cruel."

"My dear Miss Peel, the honor of the most fascinating college in
England is imperiled. Unsay those words."

Maggie Oliphant was joking. Her voice was gay with badinage, her eyes
brimful of laughter. But Priscilla, unaccustomed to light repartee or
chaff in any form, replied to her with heavy and pained seriousness.

"I think the students here are cruel," she repeated. "How can a
stranger know which is the dons' entrance and which is the right seat
to take at table? If nobody shows her, how can a stranger know? I do
think the students are cruel, and I am sorry-- very sorry I came."

CHAPTER III