scarcely tasted his supper and said he would go and lie down, that his
head ached. Marcia heard him sigh deeply as he went upstairs. It was that
afternoon that the post had brought him Kate's letter.

Sadly Marcia put away the tea things, for she could not eat anything
either, though it was an unusually inviting meal she had prepared. Slowly
she went up to her room and sat looking out into the quiet, darkening
summer night, wondering what additional sorrow had come to David.

David's face looked like death the next morning when he came down. He
drank a cup of coffee feverishly, then took his hat as if he would go to
the office, but paused at the door and came back saying he would not go if
Marcia would not mind taking a message for him. His head felt badly. She
need only tell the man to go on with things as they had planned and say he
was detained. Marcia was ready at once to do his bidding with quiet
sympathy in her manner.

She delivered her message with the frank straightforward look of a school
girl, mingled with a touch of matronly dignity she was trying to assume,
which added to her charm; and she smiled her open smile of comradeship,
such as she would have dispensed about the old red school house at home,
upon boys and girls alike, leaving the clerk and type-setters in a most
subjected state, and ready to do anything in the service of their master's
wife. It is to be feared that they almost envied David. They watched her
as she moved gracefully down the street, and their eyes had a reverent
look as they turned away from the window to their work, as though they had
been looking upon something sacred.

Harry Temple watched her come out of the office.

She impressed him again as something fresh and different from the common
run of maidens in the village. He lazily stepped from the store where he
had been lounging and walked down the street to intercept her as she
crossed and turned the corner.

"Good morning, Mrs. Spafford," he said, with a courtly grace that was
certainly captivating, "are you going to your home? Then our ways lie
together. May I walk beside you?"

Marcia smiled and tried to seem gracious, though she would rather have
been alone just then, for she wanted to enjoy the day and not be bothered
with talking.

Harry Temple mentioned having a letter from a friend in Boston who had
lately heard a great chorus rendered. He could not be quite sure of the
name of the composer because he had read th