refugees, and the accounts of it that have been handed down always represented it as a very comical affair." "Did you say 'Yankees'?" asked Priscilla. "Did you mean--" "Oh, I meant schooners from New England; I've heard they were from Cape Cod," replied Eunice. "It was pretty small business," said Priscilla, almost apologetically. "I don't believe that the men on the schooners were either soldiers or sailors. I am sure that Washington wouldn't have approved if he had known." "You don't think that all on your side were good, do you," asked Eunice, "and that all on ours were bad?" Priscilla hardly knew what to reply. She was getting again into deep water, for she saw that although the war was long over, Eunice was still a strong partisan. So, as a kind of peace-offering, she asked Eunice if she would not walk back home with her. "I should like to have you meet my friends whom I am travelling with," she said. "We are going to stay in Annapolis a week or more. Mrs. Redmond is making some beautiful sketches, and her daughter Amy is just dear; she is older than Martine and I, but she never makes us feel the difference in our ages, and she knows more than almost anybody I ever saw." "I should love to walk back with you," said Eunice, "though I cannot stay very long. What is Martine like?" she asked abruptly. "Oh, Martine,--well, Martine is different. She always sees the funny side of things, and she doesn't care what anything costs if she happens to want it. She's perfectly devoted to the French, and I'm so terribly tired of her Acadians that I want to find out what the English did in Annapolis." "I will be glad to do what I can to help you," responded Eunice, "only you mustn't be too touchy about things; for you see we're still all English down here." As Priscilla walked back to the boarding-house she congratulated herself on her new friend; for although she had known Eunice so short a time, she already regarded her as much more than an ordinary acquaintance. "I can always tell," she said to herself, "whether any one is going to wear well. Mother says that that is the only test for real friends, and I can see that Eunice and I are likely to be more than acquaintances. I feel as if I had known her a long time. Now it wasn't so with Martine, and even though we have been together so much this summer, some way I don't feel perfectly comfortable with her. I'd like to be fair, but still--"