Loveday had told her exactly how to go, and Bessie having been unable to get the bars put up at the window yet, Priscilla slipped out easily enough, and was soon hurrying up the cliff. At first all her fear was of being seen, and stopped, but later, when she neared the top, other fears seized her. Mr. Winter seemed suddenly to grow almost too formidable to face, and when she reached the gate she hesitated a moment, really too nervous to go a step farther.
But she thought of Loveday, who would be all the time thinking of her, and counting on her interference; and she thought of all the dreadful things that might happen, making herself picture the very worst, to help to get her courage up. And then she quickly opened the gate, walked gravely up to the door, and knocked before she had time to give way to her fears again.
[Illustration: “PRISCILLA SLIPPED OUT EASILY.”]
The housekeeper, grim and silent as usual, opened the door. Her look and manner alone were sufficient to alarm Priscilla, and send her home with errand undone.
“Yes, he is,” answered the woman. She was so absorbed in staring at Priscilla, and studying every detail of her face and figure and clothing, one could have been excused for thinking she had not really taken in what was said to her. Under her rude stare and forbidding manner, a faint pink flush came into Priscilla’s pale cheeks.
“Is Mr. Winter at home, please?” repeated Priscilla; adding, as firmly as she could, “I want to see him.”
“Then you can’t,” answered the housekeeper rudely; “he don’t see visitors. What’s your name?”
“I think Mr. Winter would see me,” said Priscilla eagerly. The fear that after all she might not be able to reach him with her appeal made her desperate. She had never contemplated failure of that kind. “My name is Carlyon, but I don’t suppose Mr. Winter would know it. I want very much indeed to see him, though. It is most important.”
“What for? What can a little girl like you want to be troubling a gentleman like Mr. Winter for?” she asked roughly. “If you’re come begging for clubs or charities or things, I can tell you at once, it isn’t any good, and you can run away as quick as you come.”
“But I am not begging,” said Priscilla emphatically--“not for money.”