At the Gate of Eden

outside of that old orchard with its falling blossoms and its shadows and its croon- ing winds.

Once, when he told her the story of some college pranks wherein the endless feuds of freshmen and sophomores fig- ured, she clapped her hands together ac- cording to her habit, and laughed aloud— a clear, musical, silvery peal. It fell on Eric’s ear with a shock of surprise. He thought it strange that she could laugh like that when she could not speak. Wherein lay the defect that closed for her the gates of speech? Was it possible that it could be removed?

“ Kilmeny,” he said gravely after a moment’s reflection, during which he had looked up at her as she sat with the ruddy sunlight falling through the lilac branches on her bare, silky head like a shower of red jewels, “ do you mind if I ask you something about your inability to speak“? Will it hurt you to talk of the matter with me? ”

III