The two looked up anything but gratefully when Constance approached.  Miss Field, however, was not a person to be dismissed with a light and airy word, and Maggie sighed and closed her book when Constance sat down in an armchair, which she pulled close to her.  There were no other girls in the library, and Prissie, seeing that Miss Field intended to be confidential, looked at Maggie with a disconsolate air.

“Perhaps I had better go up to my own room,” she said timidly.

Maggie raised her brows and spoke in an impatient voice.

“You are in no one’s way, Priscilla,” she said.  “Here are my notes from the lecture.  I read to the end of this page; you can make out the rest for yourself.  Well, Constance, have you anything to say?”

“Not unless you want to hear me,” said Miss Field in her dignified manner.

Maggie tried to stifle a yawn.

“Oh, my dear Connie, I’m always charmed, you know that.”

“Well, I thought I’d like to tell you that I admired the way you spoke last night.”

“Were you present?”

“No, but some friends of mine were.  They repeated the whole thing verbatim.”

“Oh, you heard it second-hand.  Highly colored, no doubt, and not the least like its poor original.”

Maggie spoke with a kind of bitter, defiant sarcasm, and a delicate color came into Miss Field’s cheeks.

“At least, I heard enough to assure me that you spoke the truth and concealed nothing,” she said.

“It is the case that I spoke the truth, as far as it went; but it is not the case that I concealed nothing.”

“Well, Maggie, I have come to offer you my sincere sympathy.”

“Thank you,” said Maggie.  She leaned back in her chair, folded her hands and a tired look came over her expressive face.  “The fact is,” she said suddenly, “I am sick of the whole thing.  I am sorry I went; I made a public confession of my sorrow last night; now I wish to forget it.”

“How can you possibly forget it until you know Miss Heath’s and Miss Eccleston’s decision?”

“Frankly, Constance, I don’t care what decision they come to.”

“You don’t care?  You don’t mind the college authorities knowing?”

“I don’t care if every college authority in England knows.  I have been humbled in the eyes of Miss Heath, whom I love; nothing else matters.”

When Maggie said these words Prissie rose to her feet, looked at her with a queer, earnest glance, suddenly bent forward, kissed her frantically and rushed out of the room.

“And I love that dear, true-hearted child, too,” said Maggie.  “Now, Constance, do let us talk of something else.”

“We’ll talk about Miss Peel.  I don’t know her as you do, but I’m interested in her.”

“Oh, pray don’t; I want to keep her to myself.”

“Why?  Is she such a rara avis?”

“I don’t care what she is.  She suits me because she loves me without question.  She is absolutely sincere; she could not say an untrue thing; she is so clever that I could not talk frivolities when I am with her; and so good, so really, simply good that she keeps at bay my bad half-hours and my reckless moods.”