The Place Beyond the Winds

by Harriet T. Comstock

"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."