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How am I to send money to Penywern Cottage?" Nancy thought for several minutes. "I have an idea," she exclaimed at last. "What is that?" "I believe Mr. Hammond could help us." Maggie colored. "How?" she asked. "Why should Geoffrey Hammond be dragged into Priscilla's affairs? What can he possibly know about Penywern Cottage and the people who live in it?"
Penywern Cottage shall no longer be without coal, and food, and warmth. How shall I do this? One thing is quite evident Prissie must not know. Prissie is as proud as I am. How shall I manage this?" She clasped her hands, her brow was contracted with the fulness of her thought. After a long while she left her room, and, going to the other end of the long corridor, knocked at Nancy Banister's door.
"I don't know that she is dear," said Maggie. "I don't profess quite to understand her; however, that is not the point. The poverty at Penywern Cottage is an undoubted fact. It is also a fact that Prissie is forced to give up her classical education. She shall not! she has a genius for the old tongues. Now, Nancy, help me; use your common sense on my behalf.
The trunk was corded and strapped and put away, and Priscilla stood by her aunt's side in the little parlor of Penywern Cottage. "Well, I think I've told you everything," said the aunt. "Oh, yes, Aunt Raby, I sha'n't forget. I'm to write once a week, and I'm to try not to be nervous. I don't suppose I shall be I don't see why I should. Girls aren't nervous nowadays, are they?"
I have three little sisters, and they want clothes and education; they want training, they want love, they want care. Aunt Raby is too weak to do much for them now; she is very, very ill. You have not an idea not an idea Miss Oliphant, in your wealth and your luxury, what the poverty of Penywern Cottage is like. What does such poverty mean? How shall I describe it to you?
PRISCILLA'S trunk was neatly packed. It was a new trunk and had a nice canvas covering over it. The canvas was bound with red braid, and Priscilla's initials were worked on the top in large plain letters. Her initials were P. P. P., and they stood for Priscilla Penywern Peel.
Oliphant thought money the aim and object of life: when he spoke to Maggie about it, she professed to hate it. In reality she was indifferent to it; money was valueless to her because she had never felt its want. She lay awake for a long time that night, thinking of Penywern Cottage, of tired Aunt Raby, of the little girls who wanted food, and education, and care, and love.
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