unding lines of forgotten poems ran through her mind,
movements of old symphonies, memories of her vicarious raptures before
the altar in the convent, glimpses of hillsides and valleys and woods
in the winter rain which she had seen unseeing that she might reserve
their deeper meaning for this deeper sight of the spirit. "I wonder if
this is not happiness; if Heaven will not be so?" she thought. It
came, too, that if this exaltation lasted a moment longer, she should
know with God the meaning of all things, the Reason which united stars
and space and men and the works of men.

The resonant bass of Bertram Chester, beating down Kate's cheerful
treble, floated up from the sidewalk. The sound came almost as a
relief; yet on second thought she was a little sorry for their
intrusion into this lonely rapture of the spirit. She looked over the
wall. Kate, revealed in the light of their gate-lamp, walked between
the two men, who were bending toward her; now they were all laughing
together. She was radiant, this firm-fleshed, golden flower of the
West. Eleanor dipped from her clouds of glory to notice that she wore
a new tailor gown, that every touch of her costume showed how she had
got herself up for that special occasion. And now the spiritual fluid
in Eleanor transmuted itself into a reckless gaiety. She slipped down
the steps and confronted them on the sidewalk.

"Hello," said Kate, looking her over. "Well, who's given you a
present?"

Eleanor hugged her. "That's just what's happened, Katie. Somebody
_has_ given me a present--I believe it must have been the stars." She
extended her hands, right and left, to the men; holding them so, she
rattled on; "Boys and girls, there's so much ego in my cosmos to-night
that it's running out at every pore. I'm sure there's going to be a
party to-night, and I'm sure it's got up for my benefit. I'm going to
play so hard--so hard that they'll put me to bed crying! Mr. Heath,
bring on your Chinese and let them gambol and frisk. It's my birthday.
This isn't the date in the family Bible, as Kate could tell you if
she weren't a lady, but I'm sure my parents made a mistake. I just
know that some menial is coming in a minute with a birthday cake--and
the ring and the thimble and the coin and everything will be in my
slice--Hello, Bert Chester!"

"Where do I come in?" enquired Kate.

"You? You come in as my dearest little playmate, to whom I sent the
first invitation."

"I see at a glance,