The girl's plain, pale face was not set off by the severity of her
toilet; there was no touch of spring or brightness anywhere, no look
or note which should belong to one so young, unless it was the extreme
thinness of her figure.

The curious eyes of the students were raised when she appeared and one
or two laughed and turned their heads away. They had heard of her
exploit of the night before. Miss Day and Miss Marsh had repeated this
good story. It had impressed them at the time, but they did not tell
it to others in an impressive way, and the girls, who had not seen
Prissie, but had only heard the tale, spoke of her to one another as
an "insufferable little prig."

"Isn't it too absurd," said Rosalind Merton, sidling up to Maggie and
casting some disdainful glances at poor Priscilla, "the conceit of
some people! Of all forms of conceit, preserve me from the priggish
style."

"I don't understand you," said Maggie, raising her eyes and speaking
in her lazy voice. "Are there any prigs about? I don't see them. Oh,
Miss Peel"-- she jumped up hastily-- "won't you sit here by me? I have
been reserving this place for you, for I have been so anxious to know
if you would do me a kindness. Please sit down, and I'll tell you what
it is. You needn't wait, Rosalind. What I have got to say is for Miss
Peel's ears."

Rosalind retired in dudgeon to the other end of the room, and, if the
laughing and muttering continued, they now only reached Maggie and
Priscilla in the form of very distant murmurs.