ge when the supper
should be spread. She would be near the quay as the ship came in, and
perhaps would get a look at her Fairy Prince, but something held her
back from trying to see or hear anything that night at Ingleside.

"I am twelve years old now," she said to herself.

A neatly clad child watched eagerly as the _Belle Virgeen_ came slowly
sailing in. Caps flew into the air, old straw ones going high aloft, and
cries and cheers went up, as strong ropes made the vessel fast to the
quay.

What! was that tall young man the Fairy Prince? He was tall when he went
away, but now, at seventeen, he looked almost a man as he stepped ashore
and was immediately seized upon by glad, loving hands.

Again the Lady Gabrielle was not in the throng. She would greet her boy
in the retirement of home, but others from the Ingleside household were
on hand to give welcome.

And after a few moments a rolling figure limped forward, and Lionel held
Mammy Leezer's dark hands and looked smilingly down into her face while
she told how "done lonesome" she had been without her "babby."

Maid Sally did not know how she herself had grown during the year past.
Her splendid hair had been brought into fluffy order, which was all that
was really needed. Her face had filled out a little, and the dimples in
her brown cheeks were deeper. Her chin was rounding to a finer curve,
and the cleft grown more decided. Her eyes were like stars and her teeth
perfect.

Dame Maria Kent had one day given her a little brush, telling her to
take it to the spring each day and use it on her teeth. And Sally was
surprised to see what a small brush and clean water would do for a
maiden's teeth. And Sally forgot nothing she once learned in the way of
a useful lesson.

The maid was changing in a way. She was growing more and more shy of
being seen by those she felt were above her. It was just as great a joy
to catch a sight of her day-dream-Prince as it had ever been, but she
would run away or hide anywhere sooner than risk meeting him or having
him really see her.

One sweet morning she had gone to the pines, her beloved history in her
hands. Back from the other trees, and on the other side of what had
become a forest path, was a queer gnarled oak, that stood a solitary
tree of its kind. And not far up was a complete seat, formed by the
crossing of two large boughs. But so thick was the foliage that nimble
Sally could be completely hidden, while learning her hist