r back!' That's your place, my sweet. Out there where the fight
is on. Such as you can show us--that 'tis no fight between men and women,
but one against ignorance and tradition. You'll trust yourself to me,
dear girl?"

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

"I did--long ago!"

"To think"--Travers was gaining control of himself; the shock, the
readjustment, had been so sudden that sensation returned slowly--"to
think, dear blunderer, of your coming among us all, striking your blow,
and then rushing to your In-Place! But love is mightier than thou;
mightier than all else!"

"Not mightier than honour--such honour as Margaret knows!" Then fiercely:
"What right have I to my--joy, when she----"

"She told me that only by your happiness being consummated could she hope
for peace."

Travers's voice was low and reverent.

"What--a girl she is!" Priscilla faltered.

"The All Woman."

"Yes, the All Woman."

The sun began to drop behind the tall hemlocks. Priscilla shivered in the
arms that held her.

"Little girl, I wish I could wrap you in the old red cape you wore once,
before the shrine."

"It is gone now, like the shrine. Oh! my love, my love, to think of the
Garden makes me live again." The fancy caught Travers's imagination.

"The Garden!"

'Twas a day for dreamy wandering, now that they had come to a cleared
space from which they could see light.

"The Garden, with its flowers and weeds."

"And its men and women!" added Priscilla, her eyes full of gladness.
"Oh! long ago, I told Master Farwell that I felt Kenmore was only my
stopping-place; I feel it now so surely."

"Yes, my sweet, but you and I will return here to polish our ideals and
catch our breaths."

"In the Place Beyond the Winds, dear man?"

"Exactly! Those old Indians had a genius for names."

"And in the Garden--what are we to do?" Priscilla asked, her eyes growing
more practical. "They will have none of--Priscilla Glynn, you know. And
you, dear heart, what will they do to you, now that you have defied their
code?"

"Priscilla Glynn has done her best and is--gone! There will be a
Priscilla Travers with many a stern duty before her."

"Yes, but you?"

"I shall try to keep your golden head in sight, little girl! For the
rest--I have a small income--my father's. I must tell you about him and
my mother, some day; and I shall write--write; and men and women may read
what they migh