Early the next morning Rosalind Merton left St Benet's College never to
come back. She took all her possessions with her, even the pink coral,
which, to their credit be it spoken, not a girl in the college would
have accepted at her hands. Annie Day and Lucy Marsh were not the sort
of people to keep their secret long, and before the day of her departure
had expired nearly everyone at Heath Hall knew of Rosalind's crime.
Miss Heath was made acquainted with the whole story at an early hour
that morning.
"I may have done very wrong to let her go without obtaining your
permission, Miss Heath," said Maggie, when the story was finished. "If
so, please forgive me, and also allow me to say that, were the same
thing to occur again, I fear I should act in the same way. I think my
primary object in giving Rosalind money to go home this morning was to
save the college from any open slur being cast upon it."
Miss Heath's face had grown very pale while Maggie was speaking. She
was quite silent for a moment or two after the story was finished; then,
going up to Miss Oliphant, she took her hand and kissed her.
"On the whole, my dear," she said, "I am obliged to you. Had this story
been told me while Miss Merton was in the house, I should have been
obliged to detain her until all the facts of this disgraceful case were
laid before the college authorities, and then, of course, there would
have been no course open but to publicly expel her. This, at least, you
have spared St Benet's, and I am relieved from the terrible
responsibility. I'll say nothing now about the rule you have broken,
for, of course, you had no _right_ to assist Rosalind to go home without
permission. It lies within my discretion to forgive you, Maggie,
however, so take my kiss, dear."
The Vice-Principal and Miss Oliphant talked for some little time longer
over Rosalind's terrible fall, and, as Miss Heath felt confident that
the story would get abroad in the college, she said she would be forced
to mention the circumstances to their Principal, Miss Vincent, and also
to say something in public to the girls of Heath Hall on the subject.
"And now we will turn to something else," she said. "I am concerned at
those pale cheeks, Maggie. My dear," as the young girl coloured
brightly, "your low spirits weigh on my heart."
"Oh, don't mind me," said Maggie, hastily.
"It is scarcely kind to say this to one who loves you. I have been many
years Vice-Principal of this Hall, and no girl, except Annabel Lee, has
come so close to my heart as you have, Maggie. Some girls come here,
spend the required three years, and go away again without making much
impression on anyone. In your case this will not be so. I have not the
least doubt that you will pass your tripos examination with credit in
the summer; you will then leave us, but not to be forgotten. I, for
one, Maggie, can never forget you."
"How good you are!" said Maggie.
Tears trembled in the eyes, which were far too proud to weep except in
private.
Miss Heath looked attentively at the young student, for whom she felt so
strong an interest. Priscilla's words had scarcely been absent from her
night or day since they were spoken.
"Maggie ought to marry Mr Hammond. Maggie loves him, and he loves her,
but a bogie stands in the way." Night and day Miss Heath had pondered
these words. Now, looking at the fair face, whose roundness of outline
was slightly worn, at the eyes which had looked at her for a moment
through a veil of sudden tears, she resolved to take the initiative in a
matter which she considered quite outside her province.
"Sit down, Maggie," she said. "I think the time has come for me to tell
you something which has lain as a secret on my heart for over a year."
Maggie looked up in surprise, then dropped into a chair, and folded her
hands in her lap. She was slightly surprised at Miss Heath's tone, but
not as yet intensely interested.
"You know, my dear," she said, "that I never interfere with the life a
student lives _outside_ this Hall. Provided she obeys the rules and
mentions the names of the friends she visits, she is at liberty,
practically, to do as she pleases in those hours which are not devoted
to lectures. A girl at St Benet's may have a great, a very great,
friend at Kingsdene or elsewhere, of whom the Principals of the college
know nothing. I think I may add with truth that were the girl to
confide in the Principal of her college in case of any friendship
developing into--into love, she would receive the deepest sympathy and
the tenderest counsels that the case would admit of. The Principal who
was confided in would regard herself for the time being as the young
girl's mother."
Maggie's eyes were lowered now; her lips trembled; she played nervously
with a flower which she held in her hand.
"I must apologise," continued Miss Heath, "for having alluded to a
subject which may not in the least concern you, my dear. My excuse for
doing so is that what I have to tell you directly bears on the question
of marriage. I would have spoken to you long ago, but, until lately,
until a few days ago, I had not the faintest idea that such a subject
had even distantly visited your mind."
"Who told you that it had?" questioned Maggie; she spoke with anger.
"Who has dared to interfere--to spread rumours? I am not going to
marry. I shall never marry."
"It is not in my power at present to tell you how the rumour has reached
me," continued Miss Heath, "but, having reached me, I want to say a few
words about--about Annabel Lee."
"Oh, don't!" said Maggie, rising to her feet, her face pale as death.
She put her hand to her heart as she spoke; a pang, not so much mental
as bodily, had gone through it.
"My dear, I think you must listen to me while I give you a message from
one whom you dearly loved, whose death has changed you, Maggie, whose
death we have all deeply mourned."
"A message?" said Maggie; "a message from Annabel! What message?"
"I regarded it as the effects of delirium at the time," continued Miss
Heath, "and, as you had fever immediately afterwards, dreaded referring
to the subject. Now I blame myself for not having told you sooner, for
I believe that Annabel was conscious, and that she had a distinct
meaning in her words."
"What did she say? Please don't keep me in suspense."
"It was shortly before she died," continued Miss Heath; "the fever had
run very high, and she was weak, and I could scarcely catch her words.
She looked at me. You know how Annabel could look, Maggie; you know how
expressive those eyes could be, how that voice could move one."
Maggie had sunk back again in her chair; her face was covered with her
trembling hands.
"Annabel said," continued Miss Heath, "`tell Maggie not to mistake me.
I am happy. I am glad she will marry'--I think she tried to say a name,
but I could not catch it--I tell her to marry him, and that I am _very_
glad."
A sob broke from Maggie Oliphant's lips. "You might have told me
before!" she said, in a choked voice.