"I should think very little of myself if I did not despise a girl like
Miss Oliphant. Is it likely I should care to imitate one whom I
despise? There was a brief, dreadful hour when I absolutely pined to
have pretty things in my room as she has in hers; now I can do without
them. My room shall remain bare and unadorned. In this state it will
at least look unique."

It did. The other students who lived in the same corridor came to
visit Priscilla in the free and easy manner which characterized them
and made remarks the reverse of flattering. When was she going to put
her pictures up? Miss Day would be delighted to help her whenever she
chose to do it. When did she intend to go down to Kingsdene to order
her easy-chairs and little Japanese tables, and rugs, and the other
small but necessary articles which would be required to make her room
habitable?

For several days Priscilla turned these inquiries aside. She blushed,
stammered, looked awkward and spoke of something else. At last,
however, she summoned up courage, and, once for all, delivered herself
from her tormentors. She did that remarkably brave thing which
sometimes very nervous people can brace themselves to do.

It was evening and Miss Day, Miss Marsh and Nancy Banister had all
come in for a few minutes to see Priscilla on their way to their own
rooms.

"Do come and cocoa with me to-night, Miss Peel," said Miss Day.
"You're so dreadfully unsociable, not a bit like an ordinary St.
Benet's girl. If you go on in this fashion, you'll be moped to death