y to be the offspring of such parents. Miss
Ross'--turning to her--'my father is a little low this evening, and I
have put him out of his usual way. I will leave you to talk to him a
bit while I open a bottle of our white currant wine to hearten you for
your walk home.'

'Poor Prissy!' observed Mr. O'Brien, shaking his gray head; 'she is a
worrier, as Susan used to say; but her bark is worse than her bite. She
is a good soul, and I would not change her for one of the lively sort.'

'She is really very sorry for having pained you.'

'Sorry! Bless my heart, you don't know Prissy. She will be that contrite
for showing the sharp edge of her tongue that there will be nothing she
will not do to make amends. It will be, "Father, what will you have?"
and, "Father, do you think you could enjoy that?" from morning to night,
as though I were a new-born babe to be tended. No, no, you are not up to
Prissy. She has not got her mother's sweet, charitable nature--my Susan,
bless her dear heart! always thought the best of everybody--but Prissy
is a good girl, for all that.'

Audrey smiled as she drew down a tendril of jasmine to inhale its
honeyed fragrance. There was not much girlhood left in the faded,
sorrowful woman who had left them just now; but in the father's fond
eyes Priscilla would always be a girl. Then, in her serious, sweet way,
she began to talk to her old friend--drawing him out, and listening to
those vague, far old memories that seemed dearer to him day by day,
until he had grown soothed and comforted.

Mrs. Baxter joined them by and by, but she did not interrupt them,
except to press another slice of the home-made cake on Audrey.

When she rose to go, father and daughter accompanied her to the gate,
and wished her a hearty God-speed.

'Good-bye, my dear old friends,' she returned cheerfully; 'in seven
weeks I shall hope to see you again. Take care of Mr. O'Brien, Mrs.
Baxter.'

'Oh yes, Miss Ross, I will take care of him. It is not as if one could
have a second parent. Father, put on your hat; the dews are falling, and
you are not as young as you used to be.'

CHAPTER XVII

AMONG THE BRAIL LANES

'Discreet reserve in a woman, like the distances kept by royal
personages, contributes to maintain the proper reverence. Most of
our pleasures are prized in proportion to the difficulty with which
they are obtained.'--FORDYCE.

'A very slight spark will kindle a flame when everyth