then with more confidence she swung into the lovely pose and action. With
uplifted eyes and smiling lips, seeming to see something hidden from
others, she bent and glided, curtesied and tripped, this way and that.

The lookers-on were wild with delight. The beauty of the thing itself,
the willingness of the foreigners to join in the sport, aroused the
temperamental enthusiasm, and the clapping and cheering filled the hall
with noise. Suddenly the musicians dropped their instruments. They were
but human, and, since they could not keep in time with this new and
amazing dance, they drew near to admire.

"Play!" pleaded Priscilla, past heeding the sensation she was creating.
"The best is yet to come!"

Carried out of himself, entering now wholly into the adventure, Travers
caught up a violin near him and sent the bow over the strings with a
master touch. He hardly knew what he played; he was himself, carried away
on a wave of enchantment.

"Ah!"

The word escaped Priscilla like a cry of glad response.

"Now!"

They two, the musician and the dancer, seemed alone in the open space.
The flashing eyes, the cheering voices, the clapping hands, even Margaret
Moffatt, pale, puzzled, yet charmed, were obliterated. It was spring time
in the Place Beyond the Winds, and the dance of adoration was in full
swing, while the old tune, never out of time with the graceful, whirling