Kilmeny of the Orchard 
     
    
   
   
    
     could not help the revelation she was un— 
     
     conscious of making. 
     
    

    
     At last she laid her violin aside and 
     
     wrote, 
     
    

    
     “ I have done my best to give you pleas- 
     
     ure. It is your turn now. Do you remem- 
     
     ber a promise you made me last night? 
     
     Have you kept it? ” 
     
    

    
     He gave her the two books he had 
     
     brought for her—a modern novel and a 
     
     volume of poetry unknown to her. He 
     
     had hesitated a little over the former; but 
     
     the book was so fine and full of beauty 
     
     that he thought it could not bruise the 
     
     bloom of her innocence ever so slightly. 
     
     He had no doubts about the poetry. It 
     
     was the utterance of one of those great 
     
     inspired souls whose passing tread has 
     
     made the kingdom of their birth and la- 
     
     bour a veritable Holy Land. 
     
    

    
     He read her some of the poems. Then 
     
     he talked to her of his college days and 
     
     friends. The minutes passed very swiftly. 
     
     There was just then no world for him 
     
    
   
   
    
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