sat on by the fire, unconscious that she had given any pain or
annoyance, thinking with gratitude of Nancy, and with feelings of love
of Maggie Oliphant, and wondering what her little sisters were doing
without her at home to-night.

By and by there came a tap at her door. Priscilla ran to open it. Miss
Oliphant stood outside.

"Won't you come in?" said Priscilla, throwing the door wide open and
smiling with joy. It was already delightful to her to look at Maggie.
"Please come in," she added in a tone almost of entreaty.

Maggie Oliphant started and turned pale. "Into that room? No, no, I
can't," she said in a queer voice. She rushed back to her own, leaving
Priscilla standing in amazement by her open door.

There was a moment's silence. Then Miss Oliphant's voice, rich, soft
and lazy, was heard within the shelter of her own apartment.

"Please come in, Miss Peel; cocoa awaits you. Do not stand on
ceremony."

Priscilla went timidly across the landing, and the instant found
herself in one of the prettiest of the students' rooms at St. Benet's.
A few rare prints and some beautiful photogravures of well-known
pictures adorned the walls. The room was crowded with knick-knacks and
rendered gay and sweet by many tall flowers in pots. A piano stood
open by one of the walls and a violin lay carelessly on a chair not
far off. There were piles of new music and some tempting, small,
neatly bound books lying about. A fire glowed on the hearth and a