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“I am sorry,” said her father, smiling at her. “I suppose that driving poor old Betsy only, and with a long-handled whip, which is never required, is very poor fun to you, you ambitious young person!”

“Oh no; I love Betsy, and I love driving her, but, of course, I can’t drive Betsy always; I am going to earn my own living when I grow up.”

“Would you have bells on the horse’s harness if you were a miller’s man?” asked Loveday.

“Oh yes—a whole lot of dear little brass ones, and I’d keep them always shining like new.”

“Well, here we are at Lantig School-house,” said Dr. Carlyon. “Draw up here, Prissy. Would you two like to come inside, or wait in the carriage?”

“Is it vaccinations?” asked Priscilla.

“Yes, it is vaccinations. I think there will be about a dozen or more babies to-day.”

“Then I’ll come. Come along, Loveday, in, and see all the dear little babies.”

Priscilla scrambled down, and Dr. Carlyon lifted out Loveday.

“You look very warm in that shawl,” he said. “I think you might take it off while you are inside.”