down. Now we know what
Inishbawn will be for Lady Torrington's poor daughter when we get her
there. All the same I don't think we'd better eat the caramel pudding
at breakfast It mightn't be wholesome for you at this hour--on account
of your sprained ankle, I mean, and not being accustomed to puddings at
breakfast. Besides I expect Miss Rutherford would rather like it. What
do you say to starting with an artichoke each?"

Frank was ready to start with anything that was given him. He ate the
artichoke greedily and felt hardly less hungry when he had finished it.
Priscilla too seemed unsatisfied. She said that they had perhaps made a
mistake in beginning with the artichokes. But her sense of duty and
her instinct for hospitality triumphed over her appetite. Feeling that
temptation might prove overpowering, she put the slices of cold fish out
of sight under the spinnaker with the remark that they ought to be kept
for Miss Rutherford. She and Frank ate the herrings' roes on toast, the
sweetbread and one of the four rolls. Then though Frank still looked
hungry, Priscilla hoisted the foresail and hauled up the anchor.

They reached the passage past Craggeen when the tide was at the full and
threaded their way among the rocks successfully. They passed into the
wide water of Finilaun roads. A long reach lay before them and the wind
had begun to die down as the tide turned. Priscilla, leaving Frank
to steer, settled herself comfortably on the weather side of the boat
between the centreboard case and the gunwale. Far down to leeward
another boat was slipping across the roads towards the south. She had an
old stained jib and an obtrusively new mainsail which shone dazzlingly
white in the sun. Priscilla watched her with idle interest for some
time. Then she announced that she was Flanagan's new boat.

"He bought the calico for the sail at Brannigan's," she said, "and made
it himself. Peter Walsh told me that. I'm bound to say it doesn't sit
badly; but of course you can't really tell about the sit of a sail when
the boat's off the wind. I'd like to see it when she's close-hauled.
That's the way with lots of other things besides sails. I dare say now
that Lord Torrington is quite an agreeable sort of man when his daughter
isn't running away."

"I'm sure he's not," said Frank.

"You can't be sure," said Priscilla. "Nobody could, except of course
Lady Torrington and she doesn't seem to me the sort of person who's much
cowed in her