en and the pleasant water of the Channel, climb the red
rocks, tread the grassy road between the hemlocks and the pines, and find
the farms. For, be it understood, by one's ability to wrench a living
from the soil instead of the water is he known and estimated. To fish is
to gamble; to plant and reap is conservative business.

Dreamer's Rock and One Tree Island, Far Hill Place and Lonely Farm,
safely sheltered they lie, and from them, in obedience to the "Lure of
the States," comes now and again an adventurous soul to make his way, if
so he may; and never was there a braver, truer wanderer than Priscilla of
Lonely Farm. Equipped with a great faith, a straight method of thinking,
and an ideal that never faded from her sight, she, by the help of the
Poor Property Man, found her place and her work awaiting her. Love, she
found, too--love that had to be tested by a man's sense of honour and a
woman's determination, but it survived and found its fulfilment before
the Shrine in the woods beyond Lonely Farm, where, as a little child,
Priscilla had set up her Strange God and given homage to it.

Harriet T. Comstock.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"It was a beautiful thing, that dance, grotesque, pagan and yet divine"
_Frontispiece_

"'And now,' she cried, 'I'll keep my word to you. Here! here! here!' The
bottles went whirling and crashing on the rocks near the roadway"

"'You mean, by this device you will make me marry you! You'll blacken
my name, bar my father's house to me, and then you will be generous
and--marry me?'"

"In one of those marvellous flashes of regained consciousness, the man
upon the bed opened his eyes and looked, first at Travers, then at
Priscilla"

"'It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, and out to the open
sea'"

The Place Beyond the Winds

CHAPTER I

Priscilla Glenn stood on the little slope leading down from the farmhouse
to the spring at the bottom of the garden, and lifted her head as a young
deer does when it senses something new or dangerous. Suddenly, and
entirely subconsciously, she felt her kinship with life, her relation to
the lovely May day which was more like June than May--and a rare thing
for Kenmore--whose seasons lapsed into each other as calmly and
sluggishly as did all the other happenings in that spot known to the
Canadian Indians as The Place Beyond the Wind--the In-Place.

Across Priscilla's straight, young shoulders lay a yoke from both ends of