“Are you going back to St. Benet’s?” he asked.

“Oh, no—­ oh, no!”

“‘Yes,’ you mean.  I will walk with you as far as the gates.”

“I am not going back.”

“Pardon me,” said Hammond, “you must go back.  So young a girl cannot take long walks alone.  If one of your fellow-students were with you, it would be different.”

“I would not walk with one of them now for the world.”

“Not with Miss Oliphant?”

“With her least of all.”

“That is a pity,” said Hammond gravely, “for no one can feel more kindly toward you.”

Prissie made no response.

They walked to the end of the High Street.

“This is your way,” said Hammond, “down this quiet lane.  We shall get to St. Benet’s in ten minutes.”

“I am not going there.  Good-by, Mr. Hammond.”

“Miss Peel, you must forgive my appearing to interfere with you, but it is absolutely wrong for a young girl, such as you are, to wander about alone in the vicinity of a large university town.  Let me treat you as my sister for once and insist on accompanying you to the gates of the college.”

Prissie looked up at him.  “It is very good of you to take any notice of me,” she said after a pause.  “You won’t ever again after—­ after you know what I have been accused of.  If you wish me to go back to St. Benet’s, I will; after all, it does not matter, for I can go out by and by somewhere else.”

Hammond smiled to himself at Prissie’s very qualified submission.  Just then a carriage came up and drove slowly past them.  Miss Oliphant, in her velvet and sables, was seated in it.  Hammond sprang forward with heightened color and an eager exclamation on his lips.  She did not motion to the coachman to stop, however, but gave the young man a careless, cold bow.  She did not notice Priscilla at all.  The carriage quickly drove out of sight, and Hammond, after a pause, said gravely;

“You must tell me your troubles, Miss Peel.”

“I will,” said Prissie.  “Some one has stolen a five pound note out of Maggie Oliphant’s purse.  She missed it late at night and spoke about it at breakfast this morning.  I said that I did not know how it could have been taken, for I had been studying my Greek in her room during the whole afternoon.  Maggie spoke about her loss in the dining-hall, and after she left the room Miss Day and Miss Merton accused me of having stolen the money.”  Priscilla stopped speaking abruptly; she turned her head away; a dull red suffused her face and neck.

“Well?” said Hammond.

“That is all.  The girls at St. Benet’s think I am a thief.  They think I took my kindest friend’s money.  I have nothing more to say:  nothing possibly could be more dreadful to me.  I shall speak to Miss Heath and ask leave to go away from the college at once.”

“You certainly ought not to do that.”

“What do you mean?”