Men have made friends of mice and insects in prison," he argued; "they
have kept their reason by so doing; why, in heaven's name, shouldn't I
play with these people here and make life possible?"

But try as he might he found his courage failing, and more and more he
dwelt apart and clung to the few--Priscilla Glenn, Mary McAdam, and old
Jerry McAlpin--who regarded him in the light of a priest to whom they
might confess freely.

Then one of Farwell's dogs died and he was genuinely anxious at the
effect this had upon him.

"So this is what I've come to!" he muttered as he buried the poor brute,
while the tears fell from his eyes and the other dog whined dolorously
beside him--"broken hearted over--a mongrel!" But he got another dog!

For a time Farwell vigorously set himself against depending upon
Priscilla Glenn as a support in his narrowing sphere. Many things
threatened such a friendship--Nathaniel, Jerry-Jo, and the girl
herself--for Priscilla, during the first years of Nathaniel's relaxed
severity, was like a bee sipping every flower, and Farwell was not at
all confident that anything he had to give would hold even her passing
interest for long. Then, too, like a many-wounded creature, he dreaded
a new danger, even though for a moment it gave promise of comfort. But
finally Priscilla got her bearings and more and more brought all her
powers to bear upon one ambition.

The childish madness that prompted her to run away from anything that
hurt or angered her, gradually disappeared, and in its place came a staid
determination to seek her fortunes, soon, in some place distant from
Kenmore.

The tourists opened a new vista to her, but many of them, with stupid
ignorance, mistook her position and traditions. She was offered
occupations as cook, maid, or laundress. She had sense of humour enough
to laugh at these, and often wished she dared repeat them for her
father's edification.

"The daughter of the King of Lonely Farm," she said to Farwell one day
with her mocking smile and comical courtesy "is bidden to the service of
Mrs. Flighty High as skivvy. If this comes to the king's ears, 'twill
mean the head of Mrs. Flighty High!"

Farwell joined her in her amusement and felt the charm of her coming
womanhood.

"But there is one up at the Lodge," Priscilla went on more gravely, "who
is not such a wild fool. She has a sick baby, and for two nights she and
I have watched and tended together. She says I have the touch