take such a blow easily. She was a reserved girl, but her feelings
were deep, her affections very strong. Priscilla had a rather
commonplace past, but it was the sort of past to foster and deepen the
peculiarities of her character. Her father had died when she was
twelve, her mother when she was fourteen. They were north-country
folk, and they possessed all the best characteristics of their class.
They were rigidly upright people, they never went in debt; they
considered luxuries bad for the soul and the smaller refinements of
life altogether unnecessary.

Mr. Peel managed to save a little money out of his earnings. He took
year by year these savings to the nearest county bank and invested
them to the best of his ability. The bank broke, and in one fell
stroke he lost all the savings of a life. This affected his health,
and he never held up his head or recovered his vigor of mind and body
again.

He died and two years afterward his wife followed him. Priscilla was
then fourteen and there were three little sisters several years
younger. They were merry little children, strong, healthy, untouched
by care. Priscilla, on the contrary, was grave and looked much older
than her years.

On the night their mother was buried Aunt Rachel Peel, their father's
sister, came from her home far away on the borders of Devonshire, and
told the four desolate children that she was going to take them away
to live on her little farm with her.

Aunt Raby spoke in a very frank manner. She concealed nothing.