than physical. At three o'clock, arrayed in a fresh gown, over which hung
a red cape, Priscilla stole from the house and made her way to the
opening near the woods. As she drew close the power of suggestion
overcame the new sense of age and indifference; the witchery of the place
held her; the old charm reasserted itself; she was being hypnotized by
the Past. Tiptoeing to the niche in the rock she drew away the sheltering
boughs and branches she had placed there one golden September day. The
leaves had been red and yellow then; they were stiff and brown now. The
leering skull confronted her as it had in the past and changed her at
once to the devotee.

Before the dead thing the live, lovely creature bowed gravely. After all,
had not the image, instead of God, answered her first prayer? Nathaniel's
heart had not been softened and school had not been permitted, but there
had been lessons given by the master when she told him of her new god.
How he had laughed, clapping his knees with his long, thin, white hands!
But he had taught her on hillside and woodland path. No one knew this but
themselves and the strange idol!

A rapt look spread over Priscilla's face; the look of the worshipper who
could lose self in a passion. But this was no dread god that demanded
unlovely sacrifice. It was a glad creature that desired laughter, song,
and dance. Priscilla had seen to that. A repetition of her father's creed
would have been unendurable.

"Skib, skib, skibble--de--de--dosh!"

Again the deep and sweeping courtesy and chanting of the weird words. The
final "dosh!" held, in its low, fierce tone, all the significance of
abject adoration. With that "dosh" had the child Priscilla wooed the