THE REDEMPTION OF ANTHONY
ization began to dawn upon her that she dreaded her daughter's home-coming, dreaded the first half-hour and the first weeks of adjustment. She even blamed herself a bit that she knew so little of the girl's real self. Her physical needs and habits she had always considered religiously, but farther than that she had never gone.
Mr. Kaley Martin's death, ten years before, had been a distinct relief, and she had wilfully set aside all reminders of him—and Priscilla came under that head.
Mrs. Martin threw herself into a comfortable chair, and gave herself up to a consideration of the evidence at hand in regard to Priscilla. She recalled the rather prim little miss of fifteen who had spent the summer vacation at home two years before (that was the last real visit, for the girl had been abroad all the time since); she recalled the stiff letters, sometimes so childish in their outlook upon life as to be pathetic. She realized that she had no idea of the
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