dolently turned from the Big Bay into the Channel and
headed for the wharf.

Not a breath of air seemed stirring, and the stillness was unbroken
except by the panting of the engines.

Priscilla Glenn stood near the gangway of the boat. Now that she had left
all her beautiful love and life, she was eager to hide, like a hurt and
bruised thing, in the old, familiar home. Leaning her poor, tired head
against the post near her, she thought of the desolate wreck behind, and
the tears came to the deep, true eyes.

"I could have done--nothing else!" she murmured, as if to comfort the sad
thing she was. "It had to be! Margaret knew that; she understood. By now
she is as bereft as I; poor, dear love! Oh! it seems, just sometimes it
seems, like an army of men on one side and all of us women on the other.
Between us lies the great battlefield, and they, the men, are trying to
fight alone--fight our battle as well as theirs. And--they cannot! they
cannot!"

Just then the boat touched the wharf, and a sleepy man, a stranger to
Priscilla, materialized and looked at her queerly.

"For the Lodge?" he grunted.

"Yes--I suppose so. Yes, the Lodge."

"Up yonder." Then he turned to the freight. Once she was on the Green,
Priscilla paused and looked about.

"For which?" Then she smiled a ghost of her bright, sunny smile.

"My father's doors are shut to me," she sighed; "I cannot go to the
Lodge, yet! I must go--to----" Something touched her hand, and she
looked down. It was Farwell's dog, the old one, the one who used to play
with Priscilla when she was a little girl.

"You dear!" she cried, dropping beside him; "You've come to show me the
way. Beg, Tony, beg like a good fellow. I have a bit of cake for you!"

Clumsily, heavily, the old collie tried to respond, but of late he had
been excused from acting; and he was old, old.

"Then take it, Tony, take it without pay. That comes of being a doggie.
You ought to be grateful that you are a dog, and--need not pay!"

It was clear to her now that Farwell's home must be her first shelter,
and taking up her suit-case she passed over the Green and took the path
leading to the master's house.

Some one had been before her. Some one who had swept the hearth, lighted
a fire, and set the breakfast table. Pine had taken Toky's place and was
vying with that deposed oriental in whole-souled service.

Priscilla pushed the ever-unlatched door open and went inside. The bare
living-room had b