The day’s shock upset her so greatly that she deposited her breakfast upon Prissy’s lap. Poor Prissy spent a miserable afternoon roasting in the wagon with a pallid corpse, her suffering aunt, and that noxious smell. I trudged along, thinking of Mr. Thorndike. Oh that I were a man, or better, a dozen men, who could bring that murdering fiend to justice! Why couldn’t I have helped the poor man? More than ever, I wanted to be a physician. But would I reach the university? And if I couldn’t enroll this autumn, would I get another chance? The king would soon forget me. Miss Jessop and Priscilla surely wouldn’t continue on now. I couldn’t travel alone. There was one other choice. “Aidan.” I watched closely to see if he was still vexed with me. “Hmm?” His eyes were only tired now. “Priscilla and her aunt will no doubt stay in Fallardston until they have recovered and received assistance from home,” I said. “Supposing I stay with them, what will you do?” He shrugged.
