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As soon as they slackened speed Priscilla looked up expectantly; it was always her duty to drive up the hills when she was out with her father, while he read aloud. As a rule, Dr. Carlyon handed the reins over to her at once, and took out his book. He was a great reader, and a very busy man, and unless he read while on his rounds he would have been scarcely ever able to do so at all. When Hocking was driving him he read “to himself,” but when Priscilla was his companion he almost always read aloud to her. Priscilla loved these readings and these drives more than anything, for though there was often much that she could not understand, there was also a great deal that she could, and some that she put her own meaning to, and some that her father explained.

But to-day Dr. Carlyon forgot to hand over the reins. Perhaps he was still busy thinking of the answers to Priscilla’s questions, or perhaps Loveday and her pink parasol made things seem different. At last, after looking at him questioningly for a few moments—as well as she could, that is to say, with Loveday between them—she reached out her hand and touched the reins.