came in softly. I pretended sleep. He was still so long that I looked up
to see what he could be doing. He was leaning his elbow on the desk,
looking straight at the floor, thinking.

All that night I lay awake, staring at the moonlight on the curtains. I
was again on the old track, for I could not possibly imagine what he
should have to say to Margaret at that hour.

Towards morning I fell asleep, and never woke till the people were
getting ready for meeting. I hurried, for the instruments met before the
rest to practise.

Nearly all the young folks sat in the seats. Jamie stood at the head of
the back row, on the men's side. His voice was worth all the rest.
Margaret came in late. She looked like a beauty that day. Her place was
at the head of the first row of girls. I, with my bass-viol, was behind
all.

The minister read the hymn beginning with this verse,--

"We are a garden walled around,
Chosen and made peculiar ground;
A little spot inclosed by grace,
Out of the world's wide wilderness."

While he was reading it, I saw her write a little note, and hand it
across the alley to Jamie. He smiled, and wrote another back. After
meeting, they had a talk. These things sound small enough now. But now I
am neither young, nor in love, nor jealous.