"That is because you have wings, Butterfly," Boswell whispered.

"And no fetter on your soul," Farwell said so softly that only Boswell
heard.

"I see," Priscilla childishly wandered on, "such a lovely trail leading,
leading--where?"

"Where, indeed?" Boswell was watching her curiously.

"That is the beauty of it! I cannot see beyond the next step. All my life
I have tried to keep my yearnings within bounds; now I--just follow. It's
very, very wonderful. Some day I am going back to the In-Place. I shall
find you both sitting by Master Farwell's beautiful fire, I am sure. It
will be the still morning time, I think, and you will be so glad to see
me, and I shall tell you--all about it!"

"Heaven keep you!"

Boswell's voice was solemn and deep.

"Life will keep her safe," Farwell said with a laugh. "Life will take no
liberties with her. She got her bearings, Jack, before the winds knocked
her. Let us both walk home with her. What sort of a night is it?"

Priscilla went to the window.

"It's rather black," she returned; "as black as the big city ever is. The
mist is clearing; it's a beautiful night."