y himself, he felt it too sacred a thing to be touched by
them, and he smoothed it again and laid it in a compartment by
itself.

Then he rose, and sauntered across the meadow to the country road, and
down it past the schoolhouse standing on its own small rise of ground
with the door still wide open, and its shadow, cast by the rays of the
now setting sun stretched long across the playground. The young man
passed it, paused, turned back, and entered. There at her desk Betty
still slept, and as he stepped softly forward and looked down on her
she stirred slightly and drew a long breath, but slept on.

For a moment his heart ceased to beat, then it throbbed suffocatingly
and his hand went to his breast and clutched the bill book where lay
the tender little poem. There at her elbow lay the copy she had so
carefully made. The air of the room was warm and drowsy, and the
stillness was only broken by the low buzzing of two great bluebottle
flies that struggled futilely against the high window panes. Dear
little tired Betty! Dreaming,--of whom? The breath came through her
parted lips, softly and evenly, and the last ray of the sun fell on
her flushed cheek and brought out the touch of gold in her hair.

The young man turned away and crossed the bare floor with light steps
and drew the door softly shut after him as he went out. No one might
look upon her as she slept, with less reverent eyes. Some distance
away, where the road began to ascend toward the river bluff, he seated
himself on a stone overlooking the little schoolhouse and the road
beyond. There he took up his lonely watch, until he saw Betty come out
and walk hurriedly toward the village, carrying a book and swinging
her hat by the long ribbon ties; then he went on climbing the winding
path to the top of the bluff overlooking the river.

Moodily he paced up and down along the edge of the bluff, and finally
followed a zigzag path to the great rocks below, that at this point
seemed to have hurled themselves down there to do battle with the
eager, dominating flood. For a while he stood gazing into the rushing
water, not as though he were fascinated by it, but rather as if he
were held to the spot by some inward vision. Presently he seemed to
wake with a start and looked back along the narrow, steep path, and up
to the overhanging edge of the bluff, scanning it closely.

"Yes, yes. There is the notch where it lay, and this may be the very
stone on which I am standin