trol of her emotions, and John Boswell's evident
determination to place her in a comfortable position won her gratitude
and admiration.

"I like cold tea; the colder and weaker the better. Thank you. Let the
cup stand on the table; I will help myself presently. I sincerely hope
we, you and I, are going to be friends. It would hurt Farwell so if we
were not."

"How good you are!"

"Yes. Goodness is--my profession." The drollery in the voice was more
touching than amusing. "I call myself the Property Man. I help people
artistically, when I can. It is my one pleasure, and I find it most
exciting. You will learn, now that you have taken your place on the stage
of life, that the Property Man is very important."

In this light talk, half serious, half playful, he reassured Priscilla
and claimed for himself what his deformity often retarded.

"Already you seem my friend. Mr. Farwell said you would be."

Priscilla's eyes did not shrink now. The soul of the man had, in some
subtle fashion, transformed him. She began to succumb to that power of
Boswell's that had held many men and women even against their wills.

"Farwell was always a dramatic fellow," the weak voice continued. "When
he sent me word, I wanted to go direct to Kenmore; I wanted to see him
after all these years. But he had made his own plans in his own way.
There were--reasons."

Priscilla looked bravely in the thin, kindly face. She remembered that
Farwell had said that she need tell nothing more than she cared to, but
an overpowering desire was growing upon her to confide everything to this
friend of an hour. His deep, true eyes, fixed upon her, were challenging
every doubt, every reserve.

"Farwell says you dance like a sprite."

At this Priscilla started as if from sleep.

"Ah! a childish bit of play," she said. "I--I have almost forgotten how
to dance."

"I hope you will never forget. To dance and sing and laugh should be the
heritage of all young things. You must forget to be serious, past the
safety point! That's where danger lies. It does not pay to take our parts
ponderously. I learned that long ago."

"I shall be--happy after a while." And now, quite simply and frankly,
Priscilla cast away her anchors of caution and timidity and spoke openly:

"I--I have been so troubled. Things have happened to me that should not
have happened if--if my mother and father could have trusted in me. They
believed--wrong of me when really they should have pit