-colored false-front, Theo
fancied, but she was not at all afraid of her. She was a trifle afraid
of Miss Priscilla. Miss Priscilla was sitting at the table reading when
they entered, and as she rose to greet them, holding her book in one
hand, the thought entered Theo's mind that she could comprehend dimly
why Lady Throckmorton disliked her, and thought her unsuited to Denis
Oglethorpe. There was an absence of anything girl-like in her fine,
ivory-pale face, somehow, though it was a young face and a handsome
face, at whose fine lines and clear contour even a connoisseur could not
have caviled. Its long almond-shaped, agate-gray eyes, black-fringed and
lustrous as they were, still were silent eyes--they did not speak even
to Denis Oglethorpe.

"I am glad you have come," she said, simply, extending her hand in
acknowledgment of Denis's introduction. The quietness of this greeting
speech was a fair sample of all her manner. It would have been sheerly
impossible to expect anything like effusiveness from Priscilla Gower.
The most sanguine and empty-headed of mortals would never have looked
for it in her. She was constitutionally unenthusiastic, if such a thing
may be.

But she was gravely curious in this case concerning Theodora North. The
fact that Denis had spoken of her admiringly was sufficient to arouse in
her mind an interest in this young creature, who was at once, and so
inconsistently, beautiful, timid, and regal, without consciousness.

"Three years more will make her something wonderful, as far as beauty is
concerned," he had said; and, accordingly, she had felt some slight
pleasure in the anticipation of seeing her.

Yet Theo had some faint misgivings during the day as to whether Miss
Priscilla Gower would like her or not. She was at first even inclined to
fear that she would not, being so very handsome, and grave, and womanly.
But toward the end of their journeying together, she felt more hopeful.
Reticent as she was, Priscilla Gower was a very charming young person.
She talked well, and with much clear, calm sense; she laughed musically
when she laughed at all, and could make very telling, caustic speeches
when occasion required; but still it was singular what a wide difference
the difference of six years made in the two girls. As Lady Throckmorton
had said, it was not a matter of age. At twenty-two Theodora North would
overflow with youth as joyously as she did now at seventeen; at
seventeen Priscilla Gow