"Oh, my dear Nance! Poor little Puritan Prissie! What next?"

"It is all very fine to call her names," replied Nancy-- here she
sprang to her feet-- "but I couldn't do what she did. Do you know that
she absolutely and completely turned the tables on that vulgar Annie
Day and that pushing, silly little Lucy Marsh. I never saw any two
look smaller or poorer than those two when they skedaddled out of her
room. Yes, that's the word-- they skedaddled to the door, both of
them, looking as limp as a cotton dress when it has been worn for a
week, and one almost treading on the other's heels; and I do not think
Prissie will be worried by them any more."

"Really, Nancy, you look quite pretty when you are excited! Now, what
did this wonderful Miss Peel do? Did she box the ears of those two
detestable girls? If so, she has my hearty congratulations."

"More than that, Maggie-- that poor, little, meek, awkward, slim
creature absolutely demolished them. Oh! she did it in such a fine,
simple, unworldly sort of way. I only wish you had seen her! They were
twitting her about not going in for all the fun here, and, above
everything, for keeping her room so bare and unattractive. You know
she has been a fortnight here to-day, and she has not got an extra
thing-- not one. There isn't a room in the hall like hers-- it's so
bare and unhomelike. What's the matter, Maggie?"

"You needn't go on, Nancy; if it's about the room, I don't want to
hear it. You know I can't-- I can't bear it."

Maggie's lips were trembling, her face was white. She shaded her eyes
with her hand.