hear now and then."

"Where is she?" in a half-suspicious manner.

"Primrose!" the lady called.

The child came in reluctantly.

"Yes, yes. James Henry has never shirked a duty. And one is entitled to
make a fair fight for the soul that belongs to the faith. It was her
father's wish."

"I hope thou wilt mend rapidly. The warm weather is trying." There was
no use of argument as to faiths.

He nodded languidly.

"And now I will return. I have a long ride before me, and guests at
home. Farewell."

No one made any effort to detain her. There was little persuasion among
the Friends, who despised what they considered the insincere usages of
society.

Primrose caught at Madam Wetherill's gown. Her eyes were lustrous with
tears that now brimmed over, and her slight figure all a-tremble.

"Oh, take me back with you; take me back!" she cried with sudden
passion. "I cannot like it here, I cannot!"

"Child, it is only for a little while. Remember. Be brave. One's word
must always be kept."

"Oh, I cannot!" The small body was in a quiver of anguish, pitiful to
see.

Bessy Wardour had loved, too, and then gone away to the man of her
choice, if not the life of her choice. But she was much moved by the
passionate entreaty, and stooped to kiss her, then put her away, saying,
"It must be, my child. But thou wilt come back to us."

CHAPTER VIII.

A LITTLE REBEL.

As the carriage-wheels rolled away Primrose burst into a violent
paroxysm of weeping. Rachel came forward and took her hand, but it was
jerked away rudely.

"Primrose, this is most unseemly," said Lois Henry, looking at her in
surprise. "If thou art indulged in such tempers at Madam Wetherill's, it
is high time thou went where there is some decent discipline. I am
ashamed of thee. And yet it is more the fault of those who have been set
over thee."

Primrose Henry straightened up and seemed an inch or two taller for the
ebullition of anger. She looked directly at her aunt and the blue eyes
flashed a sort of steely gleam. The mouth took on determined curves.

"There is nothing to put me in tempers at home. I like it. I like
everybody. And it is the being torn away----"

"But wert thou not torn away from this house last year?"

Primrose was silent a moment. "I hate this being tossed to and fro! And
I have learned to love them all at Aunt Wetherill's. I go to Christ
Church. I shall never, never be a Quaker. And I am a--a rebel! If I were
a man I