. There was no one, no place, to which
Priscilla could go for comfort and advice, and her secret and her duty
left her no peace or rest.

She had taken a tiny suite in a family hotel. The rooms had the comfort
needed for her physical wants, but she tossed on the bed nights and slept
brokenly. She ate poorly and grew very thin, very pale. She walked, days,
until her body cried out for mercy. She cancelled her engagement, for she
was unfitted for service, and intuitively she knew that, for her, a great
change was near.

When she was weak from weariness and lonely to the verge of exhaustion,
she thought of Kenmore--not Travers--with positive yearning. The woman
of her, madly defending, or about to defend, woman, excluded even her own
love and her own man. It was sex against sex; the world's injustice
against all that woman held sacred! If Margaret were to be sacrificed, so
was she, for she blindly felt that Travers would not uphold her! How
could he when tradition held him captive? How could he when his oath
bound him like a slave? Doctor Hapgood had done his part, had spoken his
word--to man! But that was not enough. Man had flaunted it, was willing
to take--the chance without giving the woman intelligent choice. Oh! it
was cruel, it was unjust, and it must be defied. She and Margaret must
stand side by side, or life never again would taste sweet and pure!

Priscilla had not heard from Travers in ten days, and this added to her
sense of desolation. Then, one evening, coming in from a long tramp in
the park, snow covered and bedraggled, she faced him in her own little
parlour!

"My blessed child!" cried he, rushing toward her. "What have you been
doing to yourself?"

She was in his arms; his hands were taking off her snow-wet coat and hat.
He was whispering to her his love and gladness while he placed her in a
chair and lighted the tiny gas log in the grate.

"It's a wicked shame!" he said laughingly; "but it will have to do. Now
then, confess!"

"Oh! I have longed so for you! I have been--mad!"

Priscilla tried to smile, but collapsed miserably.

"I don't believe you have eaten a morsel since----" Travers glared at her
ferociously.

"Since I--I was in Switzerland." The sob aroused Travers to the girl's
condition.

"You poor little tyke!" he said. "Now lean back and do as you're told.
I'm going to ring for food. Just plain, homely food. I'm as hungry as a
bear myself. I came to you from the vessel. I sent mot