hem hurrying to the Museum, and
search industriously for the Town Brook which decided the Pilgrims to
settle at Plymouth. You can make your companion look up into your eyes
by telling her what you know or pretend to know about Priscilla, and
pretend that the Puritan maid gathered cowslips for her cowslip wine on
the shores of the said "very sweet brook." This, and more chat of the
same order, will suffice to hold the dear one's attention until you are
pretty sure that if you say, "Shall we walk along to Pilgrim Hall and
see the relics?" you and she will be astonished to meet the rest of the
party just coming away.

Apropos of Pilgrim Hall, my only failure was there. We did meet the
party issuing from the Doric doorway. I'd managed that all right, but
Mrs. Shuster turned on the threshold, kindly volunteering to remain and
point out objects best worth seeing. I wished her in Halifax, or almost
any other place which could be catalogued under the same letter, but
short of telling her to go there, I saw no escape.

Whether it was an infliction for Pat or not, I couldn't be sure. I never
knew much or wanted to know much, until just lately, about the workings
of girls' minds. But I will tell you what she did: she said, "Oh, that
is so good of you, Mrs. Shuster! _Do_ come with us. It's nice to have
some one really interested to go about with. Now Larry, much as I love
him, is a worry in a place like this. He and Idonia will just go
comfortably back to the hotel and have tea in some nice nook and wait
for you, so we shall know where to find them much better than if they
loved sight-seeing as the others do!"

There are lilies and lilies. This Lily of ours looked suddenly like a
tiger lily, rather a faded one, badly in need of water, as Pat took hold
of her arm and affectionately pulled her into the marble vestibule. She
did not break away with a roar and a bound, as I half expected her to
do, but meekly let the cruel child lead her on. I knew then, however,
that it was a question only of moments. You've seen a cat, caught up
against its will into a lap, feign contentment, while with muscles
braced it waits its opportunity to take the lap unawares and spring.
That is about what happened with Mrs. Shuster. She pointed us out a
painting of the "Mayflower on Her First Morning at Sea," all _couleur de
rose_; she indicated the chairs of Elder Brewster and Governor Carroll
which were wobbling about on the _Mayflower_ that very morning