The next morning Miss Prince's sense of general well-being seemed to
have deserted her altogether. She was overshadowed by a fear of
impending disaster and felt strangely tired and dissatisfied. But she
did not believe in moping, and only assured herself that she must make
the day an easy one. So, being strong against tides, as some old poet
says of the whale, Miss Prince descended the stairs calmly, and
advised Priscilla to put off the special work that had been planned
until still later in the week. "You had better ask your sister to come
and spend the day with you and have a good, quiet visit," which
permission Priscilla received without comment, being a person of few
words; but she looked pleased, and while her mistress went down the
garden walk to breathe the fresh morning air, she concocted a small
omelet as an unexpected addition to the breakfast. Miss Prince was
very fond of an omelet, but Priscilla, in spite of all her good
qualities, was liable to occasional fits of offishness and depression,
and in those seasons kept her employer, in one way or another, on
short commons.
The day began serenely. It was the morning for the Dunport weekly
paper, which Miss Prince sat down at once to read, making her
invariable reproachful remark that there was nothing in it, after
having devoted herself to this duty for an hour or more. Then she
mounted to the upper floor of her house to put away a blanket which
had been overlooked in the spring packing of the camphor-wood chests
which stood in a solemn row in the north corner of the garret.
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