“Even there I have failed,” said Priscilla sadly.  “There is a girl at
St. Benet’s who has a strange power over me.  I love her.  I have a very
  great love for her.  She is not a happy girl, she is not a perfect girl, but I would do anything—­ anything in the wide world for her.”

“And you would do anything for us, too?”

“Oh, yes, yes.”

“And, though you don’t think it, your love for us is stronger than
your love for her.  There is a freshness about the new love which
fascinates you, but the old is the stronger.  Keep both loves, my dear:  both are of value.  Now I must go out to visit poor Peters, who is ill, so I can see you home.  Is there anything more you want to say to me?”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Hayes, Aunt Raby is very ill.”

“She is, Prissie.”

“Does she know it?”

“Yes.”

“Ought I to be away from her now—­ is it right”

“My dear, do you want to break her heart?  She worked so hard to get
this time at college for you.  No, Prissie, don’t get that idea into
your head.  Aunt Raby is most anxious that you should have every
advantage.  She knows—­ she and I both know—­ that she cannot live more than a year or two longer, and her greatest hope is that you may be
able to support your little sisters when she is gone.  No, Prissie,
whatever happens, you must on no account give up your life at St.
Benet’s.”

“Then please let me say something else.  I must not go on with my
classics.”

“My dear child, you are managing to crush me with all kinds of queer,
                   disappointing sayings to-night.”

“Am I?  But I mean what I say now.  I love Greek better than anything
almost in the world.  But I know enough of it already for the mere
purposes of rudimentary teaching.  My German is faulty—­ my French not
what it might he.”

“Come, come, my dear; Peters is waiting to settle for the night.  Can
we not talk on our way down to the cottage?”

  Aunt Raby was fast asleep when Priscilla re-entered the little

sitting-room.  The girl knelt down by the slight, old figure, and,
stooping, pressed a light kiss on the forehead.  Light as it was it

                                                awoke the sleeper.

“You are there still, child?” said Aunt Raby.  “I dreamt you were
away.”

“Would you like me to stay with you, auntie?”

“No, my dear; you help me upstairs and I’ll get into bed.  You ought to be in your own bed, too, Prissie.  Young creatures ought never to sit
        up late, and you have a journey before you to-morrow.”

“Yes, but would you like me not to take the journey?  I am strong, and could do all the work, and you might rest not only at night, but in
          the day.  You might rest always, if I stayed here.”

Aunt Raby was wide awake now, and her eyes were very bright.