Was not Priscilla’s intuition justified, and her theory proven? Had it been she herself, or any woman of her age and strong character, she would have learned self-control and so lost her best weapon; or if she had fallen into tears, the man would have simply felt that the weakness of age had overtaken her, and would have doubted the soundness of her advice. But when sweet-and-twenty weeps honestly and fervidly, and from a loving, honest heart, no man between thirty and seventy looks unmoved upon those tears; nor did Myles Standish, as hastily rising he hovered over the girl, not touching her, for no Spaniard ever treated his Infanta with more respect than this true gentleman showed to every woman, but pulling out a great handkerchief and making little futile efforts to apply it, while he incoherently exclaimed in almost the voice he might have used to Lora,-- “Why, there now, there, dear heart,--nay, child, for pity’s sake--why, my little lass, don’t ’ee take on so. Nay, what shall I say to pleasure thee? Come, now, Betty, come, now, dry up thine eyes like a good girl, and I’ll give thee--what shall I give thee? If thou wert mine own lass I’d give thee a kiss”-- “And I’ll give you one as it is, sir,” cried Betty, and turning like a flash, she threw her arms around the old man’s neck and pressed upon his cheek two lips so soft, so warm, so sweet, that a streak of dark red mounted to his temples, and taking the girl’s head between his hands he kissed her forehead with a strange stir of reverent tenderness at his heart. “Betty, my lass, thou’st done a good work to-day,” said he simply, and she, with a smile and a, sob struggling for preëminence, murmured,-- “Thank God!” CHAPTER XXXVII. “MARY STANDISH, MY DEAR DAUGHTER-IN-LAW.” The lime-trees have shed not only flowers but fruit, and the bees are adding to their clover and clethra honey a last deposit from latest hollyhocks and goldenrod. The apples lie in fragrant piles beneath the orchard trees, or in a less worthy heap beside the cider mill; the maize and the pumpkins gleam in merry gold, exulting over the withered foliage that in their non-age flaunted above their heads; the barns are bursting, and the cattle sleek with plenteous corn; it is the jocund time of year when Mother Earth spreads an abundant board, and calls her children to eat and give thanks to their Creator and hers.