orce and vitality. She sat there for hours; it was her usual refuge when the world went wrong with her.
Round and round went the wheel; on sunlight days the sun glinted on the sullen waters until they resembled a sheet of gold covered with white, shining foam. Green reeds and flowers that love both land and water fringed the edges of the clear, dimpling pool; the alder-trees dipped their branches in it; the great gray stones, covered with green moss, lay here and there. It was a little poem in itself, and the beautiful girl who sat in the moonlight read it aright.
THE MEETING AT THE MILL.
In the depths of the water she saw the reflection of the shining stars; she watched them intently; the pure, pale golden eyes. A voice aroused her--a voice with tone and accent quite unlike any other voice.
"I beg your pardon," it said, "could you show me the way to Rashleigh? I have lost myself in the wood."
Raising her eye