She was
very safe and strong, and she knew that it was wiser for Jerry-Jo to go
back home.
Then suddenly she and he were transported from the bewildering city,
talking in its sleep, to the sweet, fresh dimness of the Kenmore Green,
where the steamer had left them. It was early, very early morning, not
more than four o'clock, and the stars were bright and the hemlocks black,
and the red rocks looked soft in the shadows, like pillows. And over the
Green, loping and inquisitive, came Sandy McAdam's dog, Bounder. How
natural and restful the scene was! Then it was Jerry-Jo, not Priscilla,
who was leading. The half-breed with a gesture of friendliness was
beckoning her on toward the mossy wood path leading to Lonely Farm. There
was a definiteness about the slouching figure that forbade any pause at
the White Fish Lodge or the master's dark and silent house. Priscilla
longed to stop, but she hastened on, feeling a need for hurry.
Presently she saw the little house, her father's house, and there was a
light shining from the kitchen window. Jerry-Jo, still preceding her,
tapped on the outer door, but when the door fell open Jerry-Jo was gone!
Alone, Priscilla confronted her father, and saw with surprise that he
evidently expected her.
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