"As to Pierre," responded Martine, "Amy hears from him regularly, and he is very happy this winter in his work. A little money that was given him last autumn (Martine did not mention that this was her father's generous gift) has enabled him to have regular drawing lessons from a good teacher to whom he goes twice a week at Yarmouth. He insisted in using part of the money for his mother, and, like all Acadians, she seems to have spent it very thriftily." "But what of Yvonne? she, I believe, is your especial pet." "Oh, Yvonne, too, has had a little money to spend, and so the Babets have let her board with friends at Annapolis. Her eyes have had some attention from a good doctor, and she has been taking music lessons. I was hoping to arrange to have Alexander Babet bring Yvonne to Boston for treatment by a specialist, but for the present I have to wait." Here Martine sighed a deep sigh. This allusion to Yvonne reminded her of her father and his caution about economy. "I wonder if we shall always have to economize and give up the things we wish to do. Mother talked about economy when I spoke of inviting Priscilla to go to New York. I wonder--" and then a question from Mr. Stacy recalled Martine's wandering thoughts. "You scold me sometimes for being absent-minded," said Priscilla, "but we spoke to you three times before you heard." "I was only thinking, Prissie," responded Martine; "and I can't do two things at the same time--listen and think." Martine at last said good-bye to Plymouth with genuine regret--for Plymouth people at least, and for the Danforth family in particular. "New York wouldn't have been half as much fun," she said as the train steamed out of the station, "because I know it so well." Priscilla, who had not heard of Martine's New York plan, did not understand her friend's allusion; and as Martine made no further explanation, she had no opportunity for discontent--if the loss of a trip to New York would have made her discontented. CHAPTER XV TROUBLES The weeks after the Easter visit passed rapidly away. April was melting into May. People called it an early spring. "It doesn't make much difference to me whether the season is early or late," said Martine one Sunday afternoon, when Lucian and Robert had walked home with her from the afternoon service. "I have to work so hard to keep up with Priscilla that I haven't time to think about anything so commonplace as weather. If I'm not careful, I shall find myself fitting for college." "Don't," said Robert Pringle. "Do," cried Lucian. "As I may have said before, if you make half as much of yourself as Amy, nothing could be better for you than college." "Be yourself," said Robert with an air of wisdom. "Not Amy nor Priscilla, nor any one else. You have the artistic temperament." "Nonsense," replied Martine, with difficulty repressing a smile. "That's a very sophomorific speech. You've got it out of some of your philosophy courses."