A Phantom of Delight

and arched over with wild cherry trees misty white in the gathering gloom. Be- fore Eric could recover his wits she had vanished from his sight among the firs.

He stooped and picked up the violin bow, feeling slightly foolish and very much annoyed.

“ Well, this is a most mysterious thing,” he said, somewhat impatiently. “ Am I bewitched‘? Who was she? What was she? Can it be possible that she is a Lindsay girl? And Why in the name of all that’s provoking should she be so frightened at the mere sight of me? I have never thought I was a particularly hideous person, but certainly this adven- ture has not increased my vanity to any perceptible extent. Perhaps I have wan— dered into an enchanted orchard, and been outwardly transformed into an ogre. Now that I have come to think of it, there is something quite uncanny about the place. Anything might happen here. It is no common orchard for the production of

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