Kilmeny of the Orchard

the lengthening shadows warned him that it was time to go.

_ “ You won’t forget to come to—morrow evening and play for me,” he said, rising reluctantly. She answered by a quick lit— tle shake of her sleek, dark head, and a smile that was eloquent. He watched her as she walked across the orchard,

“ With the moon’s beauty and the moon’s soft pace,"

and along the wild cherry lane. At the corner of the firs she paused and waved her hand to him before turning it.

When Eric reached home old Robert Williamson was having a lunch of bread and milk in the kitchen. He looked up, with a friendly grin, as Eric strode in, whistling.

“ Been having a walk, Master? ” he queried.

“ Yes,” said Eric.

Unconsciously and involuntarily he in- fused so much triumph into the simple monosyllable that even old Robert felt it.

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