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tta's.Weallhaveourlittleplansforthefuture—dearrosythingsthatwedoteonandhugtoourbosomswithmoretendernesseventhanwehugthebabiesofourbodies,andtheveryrosiestandbestdevelopedofMrs.Morrison'sdarlingplanswasthemarriageofherdaughterNettawiththerichyoungmanAugustus.ItwasreceivingarudeknockonitshopefullittleheadatthismomentinoldMrs.Jones'sfrontgarden,andnaturallytheauthorofitsbeingwinced.Augustus,shefeared,mustbeextremelyfargoneinlove,anditwasnotlikelythatthegirlwouldletsuchachancego.Itwasaconsolationthatthemarriagewouldbeascandal,—thispersonfromnowhere,thisnieceofaGermanteacher,carryingoffthewealthiestyoungmaninthecounty.Thewaysofso-calledProvidencewerequitecriminallyinscrutable,shethought,instarkdefianceofwhatavicar'swifeshouldthinkbutthenshewasgreatlygoaded. PriscillaherselfcameoutofMrs.Jones'sdooratthatmomentwithaveryhappyface.Shehadsucceededincomfortingthesickwomantoanextentthatsurprisedher.ThesickwomanhadcheeredupsosuddenlyandsomuchthatPriscilla,delighted,hadatonceconcludedthatworkamongthesickpoorwashertruevocation.Andhoweasyithadbeen!Afewsmiles,afewkindwords,afive-poundnoteputgentlyintothewitheredoldhands,andbeholdthethingwasdone.NeverwassickwomansomuchcomfortedasMrs.Jones.ShewhohadbeendisinclinedtospeakaboveawhisperwhenPriscillawentinwasableattheendofthevisittopourforthconversationinstreams,andquiteloudconversation,andeveninterspersedwithchuckles.AllFridayPriscillahadtriedtohelpinthearrangingofhercottage,andhadmadeherselfandFritzingsotiredoveritthatonSaturdayshelethimgoupaloneanddecidedthatshewould,forherpart,nowbegintodogoodtothepeopleinthevillage.Itwaswhatsheintendedtodoinfuture.Itwastobethechiefworkofhernewlife.Shewasgoingtolivelikethepoorandamongthem,smoothawaytheirsorrowsandincreasetheirjoys,givethem,asitwere,acheeryarmalongtheroughpathofpoverty,andindoingitgetdownherselfoutofthecloudstotheverysoil,totheverybeginningsandsolidelementaryfactsoflife.Andshewoulddoitatonce,andnotsitidleatthefarm.ItwasonsuchidledaysasthedayFritzingwenttoMineheadthatsillinessesassailedhersoul—shrinkingsofthefleshfromhonestcalico,disgustatthecooking,impatienceatAnnalise'sswolleneyes.Priscillacouldhavecriedthatnightwhenshewenttobed,ifshehadnotheldtearsinscorn,atthesicklinessofherspirit,herspiritthatshehadthoughtmorethanabletokeepherbodyinsubjection,thatshehadhopedwasunalterablyfirmandbrave.Butseetheusesoffoolishness,—thereactionfromitissogreatthatitsendsuswithaboundtwiceasfaragainalongtherightroadaswewerewhilewewerewiseandpickingourwaywithcleanshoesslowlyamongthepuddles.Whodoesnotknowthatfreshimpulse,sostrongandgracious,towardsgoodthatsurgesupinusafteraperiodofsittingstillinmud?Whatanexperienceitis,thatvigorousshakeandeagerturningofoursoiledfaceoncemoretowardstheblessedlight."IwillariseandgotomyFather"—ofalltheexperiencesofthespiritsurelythisisthemostgloriousandbeholdtheprudent,thevirtuous,thesteadfast—doggedworkersinthevineyardintheheatoftheday—areshutoutfromitforever. Priscillahadnotbackslidedmuchbutshortashertarryinghadbeenamongthepuddlesshetoosprangforwardafteritwithrenewedstrengthalongthepathshehadchosenasthebest,andhavingcompletedthesecondofhergoodworks—thefirsthadbeenperformedjustpreviously,andhadbeenawarminvitationmadepersonallyfromdoortodoortoalltheSymfordmotherstosendtheirchildrentoteaandgamesatBaker'sFarmthenextday,whichwasSunday—shecameawayveryhappyfromthecomfortedMrs.Jones,