There were no black flies or midges yet,--no exasperating deer-flies either. Only gilded ephemera dancing over the water, where, at intervals, some burly trout broke with a splash. Green-clouded swallow-tail butterflies in floppy, erratic flight, sped through sunny glades. Overhead sailed the great yellow swallow-tail,--in aërial battle, sometimes with the Beauty of Camberwell, the latter rather ragged and faded from last summer’s gaiety, but with plenty of spirit left in her shabby wings. Sun-spots glowed and waned; shadows flickered; water poured and glided between green banks, aglint with bubbles. The beauty of all things filled the young heart of Eris, reddened her lips, tormented her, almost hurt her with the desire for utterance. If inexperience really has anything to express, it has no notion how to go about it. Like vast, tinted, unreal clouds, her formless thoughts crowded her mind--guileless desire, innocent aspiration toward ineffable heights, ambition as chaste as immature. And when in dreaming preoccupation the clouds took vague form, her unformed mind merely mirrored an unreal shape resembling herself--a magic dancing shape, ethereal, triumphant amid Olympian thunders of applause--a glittering shape, like hers, lovelier, facing the world from the jewelled splendour of the stage--a shadow-shape, gliding across the screen, worshipped in silence by a breathless multitude. She opened her book. It was entitled: “How to Break into the Movies.” She read for a few moments, gave it up. * * * * * It was May in the world; and, in the heart of Eris, April. And a strange, ardent, restlessness in the heart of all youth the whole world over--the renaissance, perhaps, of a primitive, lawless irresponsibility curbed into discipline æons ago. And, after ages, let loose again since the Twilight of the World fell over Armageddon. * * * * * Sooner or later she felt she must free mind, heart, body of whatever hampered, and go--go on about her business in life--whatever it might be--seek it throughout the world--ask the way--ask all things unknown to her--learn all things, understand, choose, achieve. Twenty, in the April just ended! Her time was short. The time to be about her business in life was very near.... The time was here.... It was already here ... if she only knew the way.... The way out.... The door that opened outward.... * * * * * Lifting her grey eyes she saw a man across the brook. He saw her at the same moment. He was fat. He wore short rubber boots and no coat. Creel, bait-box, and fishing rod explained his presence on Whitewater. But as to his having any business there, he himself seemed in doubt. “Hello, sister!” he said jauntily. “Hello,” said Eris, politely. “Is it all right for me to fish here?” he inquired. “I’m not trespassing, am I?” “People fish through our woods,” replied Eris.