fter months of service."

"I do not know, but it seems my road to what is mine. It gets me so near
people--when they most need me--are so glad to have me! There seems to
be nothing between me--and them. I love it, oh! I love it, Mrs. Thomas!"

"See here, Miss Glynn, where are you going this afternoon?"

"I do not know; just--going."

"I wish--dear me! I do wish you could go somewhere; do something
shockingly frivolous."

"No, I couldn't to-day. I feel like praying--or dancing. There's the most
wonderful, singing feeling inside of me. That's why I do not need--fun
as much as most of the girls do. You are very kind; I think I will go to
your big, fine park and walk and walk. I'd like to see the sun set and
the stars----"

"Now, Miss Glynn, unless you promise me to get under shelter before the
stars come out I'll call the police. Some day you will learn that New
York is not your Canadian hamlet."

Priscilla laughed gayly.

"Very well. I will take my walk and then go to my dear old friend. He'll
be looking for me from his high window. He always stands there late
afternoons, on the chance of my coming. He says it's a pleasure to feel
you have something that _may_ come, even if you know it isn't coming just
then."

Priscilla changed her clothing and set forth a half hour later for her
walk and to meet with an adventure that changed the current of her
thought materially. From that afternoon she was pressed and forced up her
Road by a power that had taken her into control with definite purpose.

She went into the park at the lower entrance and walked rapidly to a high
place that was a favourite with her. So peaceful and detached it was that
she could generally think her thoughts, sing aloud a little song, and
feel safe from intrusion. Being high and open, the sunlight rested longer
there than it did below and misled one as to time.

There was a glorious sunset that evening, a golden, deep one, against
which the bare trees, towers, and house roofs stood outlined black and
sharp. It was like a burnished shield. It was a still day, with a gentle
crispness in the air that stimulated while it did not chill.

"Everything is waiting. What for? what for?" Priscilla whispered sociably
to herself. She was young, full of health and success. Of course she was
waiting as the young do. And then something touched her cheek softly,
and, looking down, she saw that her dark suit was covered with feathery
snowflakes. So silently had