She saw the intricate pattern of their boughs traced upon the lawn in black and silver.
"In that house I was born," she said softly, "to the noise of that stream.

I am very glad to know that in that house, too, my great happiness has come to me." Chayne leaned forward, and sitting side by side with Sylvia, gazed down upon it with rapture.

Oh, wonderful house where Sylvia was born! How much the world owed to it! "It was there!" he said with awe.
"Yes," replied Sylvia.

She was not without a proper opinion of herself, and it seemed rather a wonderful house to her, too.
"Perhaps on some such night as this," he said, and at once took the words back.

"No! You were born on a sunny morning of July and the blackbirds on the branches told the good news to the blackbirds on the lawn, and the stream took up the message and rippled it out to the ships upon the sea.
There were no wrecks that day." Sylvia turned to him, her face made tender by a smile, her dark eyes kind and bright.
"Hilary!" she whispered.