And the old man as he listened became more and more as a little child, and as such more fully entering the kingdom of heaven, led therein by the hand of his daughter, who on her part was becoming day by day liker the Master she loved and served, seeking not her own but her neighbour's good.
Shortly after the scene we have written of, Prissy wrote the whole account of it to her loved brother, ending her letter by saying: "And now, dear Austin, I can see God's over-ruling loving hand in causing so many stumbling-blocks to have arisen in the way of my prosecuting my favourite study. It was indeed well that it should be so, for pride and foolish ambition were the sources of my desire to excel in it. Now, I trust, I can truly say the talent which he has given me I have laid at, his feet and consecrated to his service. And in being able, in however small a way, to help my father, and Archie, and Joe Smith in their loved study, I am more than satisfied. And I realize every day more and more what Harry Lascelles and you, dear Austin, have done long ago—that the noblest work that man or woman can be engaged in on earth is, by the prayerful performance of daily duties, to seek to extend the kingdom of God."
Blindness was indeed a sore trial to Dr. Warner. His whole life had been spent in study; books constituted his world, in the reading of which he had spent so much of his time that he had neglected too much his family and social ties. Now he was compelled to rest. True, with Prissy's assistance, he continued the book which he was engaged writing; but hours once devoted to study were now spent in comparative idleness. In everything he turned to Priscilla for help, and was becoming almost too dependent on her.
Sometimes Prissy's numerous duties almost overwhelmed her, for in addition to her household cares she had to superintend almost entirely the education of the two little ones.
One day when she was teaching Claude, wondering how she would get through the day's work, a light step ran up the stair, and the door opening displayed the bright face of Gabrielle M'Ivor.
GABRIELLE M'IVOR'S VISIT.
"Why, Prissy ma chère," she said, "how tired you look! I don't believe you have had one regular good walk for a month; and 'tis so charming out of doors to-day. There are tiny icicles hanging from the eaves, and the trees have a coating on them like silver. What do you call it?—Filigree. And it is so lovely, they glitter so brightly in the sunshine. See now, Prissy, I shall help le petit Claude a bit, whilst you go and get ready for a walk. Nay, chère amie, do not shake thy head; thou must go and get some fresh air, or I shall tell papa to speak to Dr. Warner about it."
"Oh no, Gabrielle, do not do so, I pray," pleaded Prissy. "It would only vex my father. But indeed I have not time to walk to-day. Claude has been longer than usual over his lessons; and now it is the hour I go to read to my father; and after that I must write to Austin in time to catch the post. And then comes the children's dinner, and—"
But Gabrielle listened to no more.