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Updated: June 25, 2025
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.
"I wish I had known you sooner," whispered Rose when Prissie bent down and kissed her before leaving her for the night. "Perhaps I might have been a good girl if I had really known you sooner, Priscilla Peel." EARLY the next morning Rosalind Merton left St. Benet's College never to come back.
Who could have discovered in that joy-illumined brow, in those blessing-dropping lips, in those eyes full of penitence, and pity, and peace, and praise, and prayer, the harsh old usurer the crafty money-cankered knave of dim St. Benet's Sherehog the cold husband the cruel father the man without a heart? Ay, changed changed for ever now, an ever of increasing happiness and love.
He lived through the reign of Edward's grandson, Richard II, and knew him from the time when as a gallant yellow-haired boy he had faced Wat Tyler and his rioters, till as a worn and broken prisoner he yielded the crown to Henry of Lancaster, the son of John of Gaunt. But before the broken King died in his darksome prison Chaucer lay taking his last rest in St. Benet's Chapel in Westminster.
As he sat opposite to Lucy in the railway carriage first-class, since she felt it incongruous to go in anything else he recalled certain luncheons at Benet's Park, when he had been doing a bit of work in the library during the family sojourn. Certainly Lucy did not realise at all how formidable these aristocratic women could be!
The afternoon of that day turned out not only foggy but wet. A drizzling rain shrouded the landscape, and very few girls from St. Benet's were venturing abroad. At half-past two Nancy Banister came hastily into Priscilla's room. "Maggie and I are going down to the library," she said, "to have a cozy read by the fire; we want you to come with us. Why, surely you are never going out, Miss Peel?"
Rose had not felt comfortable all day. She had banished thought with the usual device of extra hilarity: she had crushed the little voice in her heart which would persistently cry, "Shame! shame!" which would go on telling her, "You are the meanest, the most wicked girl in St. Benet's; you have done something for which you could be put in prison."
Nothing could have been more picturesque, and there was a buzz of hearty applause from the many spectators who crowded the galleries and front seats of the little theater when the curtain rose on the well-known garden scene, where the Prince, Florian and Cyril saw the maidens of that first college for women that poet's vision, so amply fulfilled in the happy life at St. Benet's.
It was endowed for them, and built for them, and we poor drones must not throw disparaging remarks on the busy bees." "Oh, nonsense!" said Miss Marsh; "St. Benet's was made for sociability as well as study, and I have no patience with the students who don't try to combine the two.
"My dear, you will like us all very much," the old lady said. "No life can be so absolutely delightful as that of a girl graduate at St. Benet's. The freedom from care, the mixture of study with play, the pleasant social life, all combine to make young women both healthy and wise. Ah, my love, we leave out the middle of the old proverb. The girls at St.
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