Priscilla's gain was easily recognized. Even she herself could see it when she looked in the glass, and she was daily growing more and more conscious of it. But Martine's gain,--perhaps she herself did not realize it. Perhaps she had not known in the beginning how much she needed improving. Yet Mrs. Redmond, realizing it, had observed with pleasure that Martine was not nearly as self-willed, was not nearly as ready to ridicule the foibles of others as at the beginning of the trip. Just as the angles of Priscilla's disposition were rounding off to a certain degree, so Martine was much less likely than formerly to fly off in a tangent. Although it could hardly be said that the two girls understood each other perfectly, it was yet the fact that wishes collided far less often than in the past. When Priscilla yielded, she did so with a smaller show of helpless resignation than had been her wont, and Martine no longer thought it clever to laugh at every suggestion made by Priscilla. As to Amy, her mother saw with pleasure that to her the summer had been one of real refreshment. If she had been absolutely idle she could not have been half as happy as now, with the sense of responsibility that was hers in having the care, or at least the partial care, of Martine and Priscilla; moreover the trip itself, opening as it did to her a country of which previously she had known so little, was in every way a delight to her. It had shown to her a world of history and poetry with which she had not been familiar, even though she had known something about it, and this in itself was worth much to her. CHAPTER XIX A DISCOVERY "I almost wish," said Amy to her mother, as their train was speeding away from Wolfville, "that we were going direct to Halifax." "That _is_ a concession," responded Mrs. Redmond, with a smile, "for if you had been less anxious to see Windsor we should have passed on without stopping there. Perhaps even yet it is not too late to change our plans." "Oh, no; I am just as anxious as ever to visit King's College, and Martine and Priscilla, if not enthusiastic, still feel pleased at the prospect of seeing one more town before we reach Halifax. I've had to use some persuasion to get them to take this point of view, and it would be very foolish indeed for me to be the one to change plans now." A moment later Martine and Priscilla, who had been looking from the window on the opposite side of the car, returned to their seats. "Would you care to give up Windsor now?" asked Mrs. Redmond. "No, indeed; since I realized that Windsor is the old Piziquid of the Acadians I have been crazy to see it, for I read a story the other day whose scene was laid there; and besides, I've heard that Windsor has one of the queerest harbors in the world, with water in it hardly two or three hours a day, and only red mud the rest of the time." "That's nothing very new," interrupted Priscilla; "we've seen enough of that kind of thing already in Nova Scotia."