, no misgiving, assailed the moment of joy. Forward, just
a little beyond, success awaited her. The possibility of defeat was over
forever. From now on, through weariness, toil, and perhaps suffering, she
was going to her own. She had never realized the tense mental and
physical strain through which she had passed; she did not realize it now,
but with the relaxation came an almost dangerous exhilaration. The
present, only so far as it verified the past, had no hold upon her;
she let herself go.

Back again was she in Kenmore. It was springtime, and the red rocks and
hemlocks shone and the water sparkled; she heard it lapping against the
tiny islands, so glad was it to be free of the winter's grasp. Some one
was dancing to the Spring's Call--a small, graceful thing with a bright
red cape flying on the wind, the soft wind of the In-Place. There was
music, too! Oh! how clearly it came rising and falling; and then, in the
bare hospital room, the blue-clad nurse tripped this way and that, while
memory held true to note and step!

Oh! It was on again, on again, that dear old dance. It dried the tears in
the tender eyes and held the smile on the joyous lips. Then, as suddenly
as it had begun, the dance ceased, a flushed face confronted the
reflection in the glass, and a low curtsey followed, while a reverent
voice repeated as if in prayer:

"Skib, skib, skibble--de--de--dosh!"

The words came of their own volition; they were part and kin to the mood
that held and swayed her. They were a pagan plea for guidance and
protection in the opening life where wind and fury would beset her.

Suddenly words of everyday life found their way to her detached
consciousness and recalled her to the present with almost cruel force.

"It's the little Canuck he wants! Just fancy! I heard him say so to--to
Mrs. Thomas. Such injustice! But there the old Grenadier comes now.
Hustle!"

Priscilla heard the scampering feet, then, after a moment's pause, the
dignified advance of the superintendent. There was a tap on the door. The
doors of some rooms, owing to discipline, were never tapped by Mrs.
Thomas, but the reason that compelled her to show this courtesy to
Priscilla also caused her to wish this young Canadian was a less serious
person; one more prone to frivol in her "hours off," and not have, for
her most intimate companion, the strange dwarf. She could have forgiven
Priscilla Glenn if, having overdone her "late leave," she had crawled
i