“That’s not the point,” said Priscilla.  There was a ring in her voice which she must have inherited from a long line of rugged, proud but worthy ancestors.  “In a question of this kind, I ought never to content myself with looking at the brilliant and tempting side.  Forgive me, Miss Heath.  I may have done wrong after all; but, right or wrong, I have made my resolve.  I will keep my independence.”

“Have you considered your Aunt Raby in this?”

“She has put herself absolutely out of the question by declining all aid as far as she is concerned.  She says such assistance would kill her in a week.  If I can earn money to help her before she dies, she will accept it from me with thankfulness, but from no one else.”

“Then you will give up your Latin and Greek?”

“For the present, I must.”

“And you are quite happy?”

“If Maggie and Mr. Hammond will only marry one another, I shall be one of the happiest girls in the world.”

There came a knock at the door.  Priscilla opened it.

“Prissie, darling!” said Maggie Oliphant’s voice.  She flung her arms round the young girl’s neck and kissed her several times.

“It’s all right, Priscilla,” said Hammond.

Miss Heath made a step or two forward.

“Come and tell Miss Heath,” said Prissie.  “Miss Heath, here is Maggie!  Here is dear Maggie and here is Mr. Hammond, and it is all right.”  Tears of gladness filled Priscilla’s eyes.  She went up to Hammond, took one of his hands in both her own and said in a voice of rapture, “I did help you to-night, didn’t I?  You know I said I would do anything in the world for you.”

“You have done everything for me, Priscilla,” replied Hammond.  “I shall bless you while I live.”

Maggie Oliphant’s arms were round Miss Heath’s neck; her head rested against her breast.  “We have come straight to you,” she said; “you told me that if such an occasion came, you would act as a mother to me.”

“So I can and so I will, dear child.  God bless you.  You are happy now.”

“Happy!” Maggie’s eyes were glistening through the softest rainbow of tears.  Hammond came and took the hand which she had suddenly thrown at her side.

“We both owe everything to Priscilla,” he said.

CONCLUSION

Before Maggie Oliphant left St. Benet’s she brought some of the honor which had long been expected from her to the dearly loved halls:  she took a first class in her tripos examination.  With her mind at rest, a great deal of the morbidness of her character disappeared, and her last term at St. Benet’s reminded the students who had known her in Annabel Lee’s time of the old, brilliant and happy Maggie.  Miss Oliphant’s bad half-hours became rarer and rarer, and Hammond laughed when she spoke to him of them and said that she could not expect him to believe in their existence.