A Phantom of Delight 
     
    
   
   
    
     There was something very child-like 
     
     about her, and yet at least eighteen sweet 
     
     years must have gone to the making of 
     
     her. She seemed to be playing half un- 
     
     consciously, as if her thoughts were far 
     
     away in some fair dreamland of the 
     
     skies. But presently she looked away 
     
     from “ the bourne of sunset,” and her 
     
     lovely eyes fell on Eric, standing motion- 
     
     less before her in the shadow of the apple 
     
     tree. 
     
    

    
     The sudden change that swept over her 
     
     was startling. She sprang to her feet, the 
     
     music breaking in mid-strain and the bow 
     
     slipping from her hand to the grass. 
     
     Every hint of colour fled from her face 
     
     and she trembled like one of the wind— 
     
     stirred June lilies. 
     
    

    
     “ I beg your pardon,” said Eric hastily. 
     
     “ I am sorry that I have alarmed you. 
     
     But your music was so beautiful that I 
     
     did not remember you were not aware of 
     
     my presence here. Please forgive me.” 
     
    

    
     He stopped in dismay, for he suddenly 
     
    

    
     63