her vivid fancy, the barrier between
the past and future. Against it, unseen, faint, but persistent, beat what
once had been--her grim father, her weak, tearful mother, lonely, kindly
Master Farwell, and all the lesser folk of Kenmore. Pressing close and
straining to hold her, these dim, shadowy memories clustered, but she no
longer appeared a part of them, like them, or in any way connected with
them. On the other hand, below the eyrie dwelling in which she was
temporarily sheltered, lay the whirlpool of sound and motion into which,
sooner or later, she must plunge.

With keen appreciation and understanding of this phase of her
development, John Boswell kept conversation and life upon the surface,
and rarely permitted a letting-down of thought. Cautiously, and not too
often, he took his guest on tours of inspection and watched her while she
underwent new ordeals or experienced pain from unknown thrills. He had
never been more interested or amused in his life, and, in his enthusiasm,
exaggerated Priscilla's capabilities. He revelled in her frankness and
her confidence; he learned from her more of Farwell than he could have
learned in any other way, and his faithful heart throbbed in pity, pride,
and affection for the lonely master of the In-Place, who, little heeding
his own progress, had triumphed over his old and lesser self at last.

The home of Boswell was a large and sunny apartment high up in the huge
building. Only one servant, a marvellously silent and efficient Japanese,
ran the economic machinery, awesomely defended Boswell's library when the
master retired to perform his mystic rites, and in all relations was
exemplary. Poor Boswell's rites comprised a devouring appetite for
reading and a rather happy talent for turning off a short story as unique
and human as he was himself.

After Priscilla Glenn arrived, Toky, as the servant was called, was
tested to the uttermost. Never before had Boswell introduced a woman into
the sphere sacred to Man. Toky disapproved, was utterly disgusted; he
lost his implicit faith in his master's wisdom, but he adopted a manner
at once so magnanimous and charming that Boswell set to work and planned
future gifts of appreciation for his servant.

No other woman came to the apartment; Boswell shrank from them, not
bitterly or resentfully, but sensitively. Men took him more or less for
granted when he touched their lives; women overdid the determination, on
their parts, to set him