Garden of Eden, before
man and woman made their first great mistake and did the thing that was
intended for them to do.

For Frank this companionship was unutterably sweet. He enjoyed the small
and unimportant events of their intercourse; the way Katrine would save
flowers for him to wear, pinning them in his coat with a flushed cheek,
or read, with an ecstasy of appreciation, a line from some great writer,
marking a meaning he had never found, or laugh at his old
riding-clothes, his Southern prejudices, saying once: "To a _man_ of the
world like myself, these ideas seem trivial."

On one of these ten precious days the lawyers at Marlton telephoned him
to obtain an interview. The business was important, and he started
immediately for a conference with them. By the fence opening into the
main road from the lodge he found Katrine, in her high-waisted black
frock, looking out between the bars of the great swinging gate, with a
radiance about her, an inconsequential joy such as he had never seen
before in any human being. She had a letter tucked in her breast, and at
sight of him she touched it.

"He is getting better, better, better, and the doctor writes he may be
quite himself again," she said, with no salutation whatever, her face a
wonder to behold.

"I am rejoiced more than I can say, Katrine," he answered.

"You have been so good," she replied, gratefully.

"Thank you," he said, gravely, and though the words were trivial the
manner gave them significance.

"Were you coming to call on me?" Katrine inquired.

Frank shook his head. "The lawyers at Marlton are waiting for me."

"Stay with me," she said, opening her hand and showing some nuts, as
though they might be an inducement to remain. "It's lonesome. I've
finished practising. Stay with me!"

"Duty calls," he answered, looking down at her.

"Put your fingers in your ears! If you once listen to her, you can never
hear any other thing in life." She folded her arms on one of the bars of
the gate, resting her chin upon them, as she looked up at him. "If you
will stay with me," she hesitated, searching her mind for further
inducements, "I'll tell you tales of Killybegs and the Black Bradley
Brothers, who hid their sister in the 'pocheen' barrel"--she waited a
minute--"and of the wedding of Peggy Menalis on the old sea-wall."

He shook his head.

"And I'll sing you a funny little song that ends like this":

[Music notation]

She sang the tones out swee