Audrey smiled as she drew down a tendril of jasmine to inhale its honeyed fragrance. There was not much girlhood left in the faded, sorrowful woman who had left them just now; but in the father's fond eyes Priscilla would always be a girl. Then, in her serious, sweet way, she began to talk to her old friend--drawing him out, and listening to those vague, far old memories that seemed dearer to him day by day, until he had grown soothed and comforted. Mrs. Baxter joined them by and by, but she did not interrupt them, except to press another slice of the home-made cake on Audrey. When she rose to go, father and daughter accompanied her to the gate, and wished her a hearty God-speed. 'Good-bye, my dear old friends,' she returned cheerfully; 'in seven weeks I shall hope to see you again. Take care of Mr. O'Brien, Mrs. Baxter.' 'Oh yes, Miss Ross, I will take care of him. It is not as if one could have a second parent. Father, put on your hat; the dews are falling, and you are not as young as you used to be.' CHAPTER XVII AMONG THE BRAIL LANES 'Discreet reserve in a woman, like the distances kept by royal personages, contributes to maintain the proper reverence. Most of our pleasures are prized in proportion to the difficulty with which they are obtained.'--FORDYCE. 'A very slight spark will kindle a flame when everything lies open to catch it.'--SIR WALTER SCOTT. While Audrey was talking to her old friend in the jasmine-covered porch of Vineyard Cottage, Cyril Blake was sitting on a stile in one of the Brail lanes, trying to solve a difficult problem. A domestic matter had come under his notice that very afternoon--a very ordinary occurrence, if he had only known it--and had caused him much vexation. Not being more clear-sighted than other young men of his age, it is extremely doubtful whether he would have noticed it at all but for a few words spoken by Miss Ross. A week or two ago he had observed casually to her, as they were standing together on the cricket-field, that he thought Mollie was growing very fast. 'I suppose she is strong,' he added doubtfully; 'but she has certainly seemed very tired lately'--this reflection being forced upon him by a remark of Kester's, 'that Mollie had such a lot of headaches now.' 'I am afraid Mollie is very often tired,' returned Audrey rather gravely. Now, there was nothing in this simple remark to arrest Cyril's attention; but somehow Audrey's tone implied a good deal, and, though no further word passed between them on the subject, Cyril was left with an uncomfortable impression, though it was too vague and intangible to be understood by him.