hat was happening on earth, Darsie felt sure that she would like to
know that her portrait was still cherished. Her thoughts hovered
gratefully about the dead woman as she sat in this wonderful old church,
and pictured with awe the succeeding generations who had worshipped
within its walls. It was only when the sermon was at an end that,
turning her head, Darsie met the gaze of a girl sitting a few seats
away, and after a moment of bewilderment recognised the widely set eyes
and curling lips of Margaret France.

In her dark hat and coat she looked less attractive than in evening
dress, but the fact made no difference in the thrill of pleasure with
which Darsie realised her presence. Some quality in this girl appealed
to the deep places of her heart; she realised instinctively that if the
attraction were mutual the tie between them would be close and firm, but
it must be all or nothing--she could never dally with friendship with
Margaret France!

Walking home slowly along Silver Street, she found herself answering
absently to Hannah's remarks, her whole attention riveted on watching
the passers-by, wondering if by any possibility Margaret France would
stop to speak to her once more, and her heart leaped with exultation as
a footstep paused by her side, and the clear, crisp tones addressed her
by name.

"Morning, Miss Garnett! Morning, Miss Vernon! Ripping day, isn't it?
Glad to see you in King's. Saw you long before you spotted me, and
enjoyed your enjoyment. Never forgot my first services. Good to be
there, isn't it?"

"Oh-h!" Darsie's deep-drawn breath of rapture was an eloquent response.
"I _have_ been happy! I've never in my life seen anything so wonderful
before. It seems almost too good to be true that I can go there every
Sunday for years to come. Cambridge is wonderful. I am more enchanted
every day. Even to walk along the streets is a joy."

"Good!" cried Margaret heartily. "Drop in to five o'clock service
sometimes when you're feeling tired, and tied up with your work. It's a
grand soother. How goes the work so far? Enjoying the lectures?
Finding the literature interesting?"

The two Modern Languages discussed work together eagerly, while
mathematical Hannah marched on a few feet ahead. Darsie felt a pang of
remorse, because she could not help wishing that she would _stay_ ahead,
and so give the chance of a prolonged _tete-a-tete_ with Margaret
France. The feeling of attraction was so