Part 32 (2/2)
Prissie stopped speaking. Maggie went up again and tried to take her hand; she drew back a step or two, pretending not to see.
”It has been very kind of you to listen,” she said; ”I am very grateful to you, for now, whatever we may be to each other in future, you will understand that I don't give up what I love lightly. Thank you, you have helped me much. Now I must go and tell Miss Heath what I have said to you. I have had a happy reading of Euripides and have enjoyed listening to you. I meant to give myself that one last treat-- now it is over. Good night.”
Priscilla left the room-- she did not even kiss Maggie as she generally did at parting for the night.
CHAPTER XXV
A MYSTERIOUS EPISODE
WHEN she was alone, Maggie Oliphant sat down in her favorite chair and covered her face with her hands. ”It is horrible to listen to stories like that,” she murmured under her breath. ”Such stories get on the nerves. I shall not sleep to-night. Fancy any people calling themselves ladies wanting meat, wanting clothes, wanting warmth. Oh, my G.o.d! this is horrible. Poor Prissie! Poor, brave Prissie!” Maggie started from her chair and paced the length of her room once or twice.
”I must help these people,” she said; ”I must help this Aunt Raby and those three little sisters. Penywern Cottage shall no longer be without coal, and food, and warmth. How shall I do this? One thing is quite evident-- Prissie must not know. Prissie is as proud as I am.
How shall I manage this?” She clasped her hands, her brow was contracted with the fulness of her thought. After a long while she left her room, and, going to the other end of the long corridor, knocked at Nancy Banister's door. Nancy was within. It did not take Maggie long to tell the tale which she had just heard from Priscilla's lips. Prissie had told her simple story with force, but it lost nothing in Maggie's hands. She had a fine command of language, and she drew a picture of such pathos that Nancy's honest blue eyes filled with tears.
”That dear little Prissie!” she exclaimed.
”I don't know that she is dear,” said Maggie. ”I don't profess quite to understand her; however, that is not the point. The poverty at Penywern Cottage is an undoubted fact. It is also a fact that Prissie is forced to give up her cla.s.sical education. She shall not! she has a genius for the old tongues. Now, Nancy, help me; use your common sense on my behalf. How am I to send money to Penywern Cottage?”
Nancy thought for several minutes.
”I have an idea,” she exclaimed at last.
”What is that?”
”I believe Mr. Hammond could help us.”
Maggie colored.
”How?” she asked. ”Why should Geoffrey Hammond be dragged into Priscilla's affairs? What can he possibly know about Penywern Cottage and the people who live in it?”
”Only this,” said Nancy: ”I remember his once talking about that part of Devons.h.i.+re where Prissie's home is and saying that his uncle has a parish there. Mr. Hammond's uncle is the man to help us.”
Miss Oliphant was silent for a moment.
”Very well,” she said; ”will you write to Mr. Hammond and ask him for his uncle's address?”
”Why should I do this, Maggie? Geoffrey Hammond is your friend; he would think it strange for me to write.”
Maggie's tone grew as cold as her expressive face had suddenly become.
”I can write if you think it best,” she said; ”but you are mistaken in supposing that Mr. Hammond is any longer a person of special interest to me.”
”Oh, Maggie, Maggie, if you only would--”
”Good night, Nancy,” interrupted Maggie. She kissed her friend and went back to her room. There she sat down before her bureau and prepared to write a letter. ”I must not lose any time,” she said to herself; ”I must help these people substantially; I must do something to rescue poor Prissie from a life of drudgery. Fancy Prissie, with her genius, living the life of an ordinary underpaid teacher: it is not to be thought of for a moment! Something must be done to put the whole family on a different footing, but that, of course, is for the future. From Priscilla's account they want immediate aid. I have two five-pound notes in my purse: Geoffrey shall have them and enclose them to the clergyman who is his relation and who lives near Priscilla's home.”
Maggie wrote her letter rapidly. She thought it cold; she meant it to be a purely business note; she did not intend Hammond to see even the glimpse of her warm heart under the carefully studied words. ”I am sick of money,” she said to him, ”but to some people it is as the bread of life. Ask your friend to provide food and warmth without a moment's delay for these poor people out of the trifle I enclose. Ask him also to write directly to me, for the ten pounds I now send is only the beginning of what I mean really to do to help them.”
When her letter was finished, Maggie put her hand in her pocket to take out her purse. It was not there. She searched on the table, looked under piles of books and papers and presently found it. She unclasped the purse and opened an inner pocket for the purpose of taking out two five-pound notes which she had placed there this morning. To her astonishment and perplexity, this portion of the purse now contained only one of the notes. Maggie felt her face turning crimson. Quick as a flash of lightning a horrible thought a.s.sailed her-- Priscilla had been alone in her room for nearly an hour-- Priscilla's people were starving: had Priscilla taken the note?
<script>