ling his canoe in still, Indian fashion around
Lone Tree Island. Theodora was off erranding, and Nathaniel, as far as
human knowledge went, was in some distant field; he had started off
directly after dinner. Priscilla was ready for her adventure. With the
natural desire of youth, she had decked herself out in her modest
finery--a stiffly starched white gown of a cheap but pretty design, a
fluff of soft lace at throat and wrist, and, over it, the old red cape
that years before had added to her appearance as she danced on the rocks.
Perhaps remembering that, she had utilized the garment and was thankful
that cloth lasted so long in Kenmore!

The coquetry of girlhood rose happily in Priscilla's heart. Jerry-Jo had
become again simply a link in her chain of events; he had lost the
importance the flash of the evening before had given him; he was not
forgiven, but for the time he was, as a human being, forgotten. He was
Jerry-Jo who was to paddle her to her Heart's Desire! That was it, and
the old words, set to music of her own, were the signals used to attract
McAlpin's attention. But the merry call brought Glenn from out the barn
just as the canoe touched the rocks lightly, and Priscilla prepared to
step in.

"Where you two going?" he shouted in the tone that always roused the
worst in Priscilla's nature. Jerry-Jo paused, paddle in air, but his
companion whispered:

"Go on!" To Nathaniel she flung back: "We're going to have a bit of fun,
and why not, father? I'm tired of staying at home."

This was unfortunate: on the home question Glenn was very clear and
decided.

"Come back!" he ordered, but the little canoe had shot out into the
Channel. "Hi, there McAlpin, do you hear?"

"Go on!" again whispered Priscilla, and Jerry-Jo heard only her soft
command, for his senses were filled with the loveliness of her charming,
defiant face set under the broad brim of a hat around which was twined
a wreath of natural flowers as blue as the girl's laughing eyes.

Nathaniel, defied and helpless, stood by the barn door and impotently
fumed as the canoe rounded Lone Tree Island and was lost to his
infuriated sight.

"You'll catch it," Jerry-Jo comforted when pursuit was impossible, and he
had the responsibility of the rebel on his hands. "I wouldn't be in your
place, and you need not drag me in, for I'd have turned back had you said
the word."

A fleeting contempt stirred the beauty of the girl's face for a moment,
and then she