essness of his life since Farwell had left it; but here, quite
unexpectedly, a young and vital personality had entered in and had given
him, in a crude, friendly way, to be sure, what his absent friend had
given--the assurance that his deformity could not exclude him from the
sweet humanity that was keen enough to recognize the soul of him.
Sensitive, shrinking from suffering and publicity, the man found in
Priscilla's companionship and confiding friendliness the deepest joy he
had known since his great loss. He wished that he was ninety, indeed, and
that his infirmity and wealth might secure for him this new interest that
had taken him out of himself and caused his sluggish senses to revive.
But he was not yet fifty. For all his handicaps he was still in fair
health, and the best that he could hope for was that Priscilla, among
her new duties, would remember him, come back to him, make his lonely
home a retreat and comfort when her arduous duties permitted.

Those last few days of freedom and companionship were beautiful to them
both. With pride and a certain complacency, Boswell saw that he had
somewhat formed and developed Priscilla's tastes and judgment. She was no
longer the ignorant girl she once had been. Music did not now move her to
tears and a kind of dumb suffering. She began to understand, to control
her emotions, and gain, through them, pleasure without pain.

"She laughs," Boswell thought, "more intelligently and discriminately
when she sees a good farce."

All this was satisfying to them, but on a certain late-winter day it came
to an end, and Priscilla, thrilling with a sense of achievement, entered
St. Albans on probation.

What the weeks of doubt and preparation meant, no one, not even Boswell,
ever knew. The old childish determination to suffer, in order to know,
held true and unfaltering. The tortured nerves, after the first shocks,
regained their poise and strength; the heavy work and strict discipline
left the sturdy body like fine steel, although weariness often tested it
sorely.

"'Tis not to dance, Priscilla Glenn," she often warned herself; "it is to
suffer and know!"

Then she grimly set her strong, white teeth. With all the getting and
relinquishing, however, she never forgot to laugh, and her courageous
cheerfulness won for her more than she realized while she was learning
the curves of her Road.

And then she was accepted. No one but herself had ever doubted her
triumph, but when sh