Robin Hood's Barn 



Helen recovering from the precautionary fumes 

 of ether just long enough to say farewell. Bleak 

 harborage for tragic romance! But for my 

 brother, this lady whose inheritance had kept her 

 fluttering in bondage, had chosen her house 

 wisely. Certainly for his convenience. Nice per- 

 spective to the silent empty street. Nice the 

 shadows on the roof and doorway that fell spat- 

 tering from the high elm. And that other picture 

 of the garden! There he felt that I had had my 

 chance. A tale of moonUght and midsummer 

 madness. Past twelve o'clock, and Poe abroad 

 in Providence, that staid New England city that 

 still kept curfew and tucked itself so early into 

 bed. The drift of perfume in the darkness. 

 Sweetbrier and flowering currant, misty in the 

 radiance. And below them, with a silver glamour 

 full upon her, Helen seated on a flowery bank. 

 Was there ever such a meeting? They two in the 

 whole slumbrous town, awake. And I had 

 stopped to talk of literary coteries and transcen- 

 dentalism. Yes, it really was a pity that a fellow 

 could not write. 



My failure, of course, was unintentional. But 

 [22] 



