"I wish you wouldn't tell me heroic stories, Nancy," she remarked
after a pause. "They make me feel so uncomfortable. If Priscilla Peel
is going to be turned into a sort of heroine, she'll be much more
unbearable than in her former character."

"Oh, Maggie, I wish you wouldn't talk in that reckless way nor pretend
that you hate goodness. You know you adore it-- you know you do! You
know you are far and away the most lovable and bewitching, and the--
the very best girl at St. Benet's."

"No, dear little Nance, you are quite mistaken. Perhaps I'm
bewitching-- I suppose to a certain extent I am, for people always
tell me so-- but I'm not lovable and I'm not good. There, my dear, do
let us turn from that uninteresting person-- Maggie Oliphant. And so,
Nancy, you are going to worship Priscilla Peel in future?"

"Oh, dear no! that's not my way. But I'm going to respect her very
much. I think we have both rather shunned her lately, and I did feel
sure at first that you meant to be very kind to her, Maggie."

Miss Oliphant yawned. It was her way to get over emotion very quickly.
A moment before her face had been all eloquent with feeling; now its
expression was distinctly bored, and her lazy eyes were not even open
to their full extent.

"Perhaps I found her stupid," she said, "and so for that reason
dropped her. Perhaps I would have continued to be kind if she had
reciprocated attentions, but she did not. I am glad now, very glad,
that we are unlikely to be friends, for, after what you have just told