g down town and Pete was over at the Curriers', so
there were only grandma and Missy at the table. Missy tried to attend
to grandma's chatter and make the right answers in the right places. But
her mind kept wandering; and once grandma caught her whispering.

"What is the matter with you, Missy? What are you whispering about?"

Guiltily Missy clapped her hand to her mouth.

"Oh! was I whispering?"

"Yes."

"I guess it was just a piece I'm learning."

"What piece?"

"I--I--it's going to be a surprise."

"Oh, another surprise? Well, that'll be nice," said grandma.

Missy longed acutely to be alone. It was upsetting to have to carry on
a conversation. That often throws you off of what's absorbing your
thoughts.

So she was glad when, after dinner, grandma said:

"I think you'd better take a little nap, dear. You don't seem quite like
yourself--perhaps you'd best not attempt the meeting to-night."

That last was a bomb-shell; but Missy decided not to worry about such
a possible catastrophe till the time should come. She found a chance to
slip out to the tool-house and rescue the Holy Bible and the sheet
of paper, the latter now so scratched out and interlined as to be
unintelligible to anyone save an author.

When at last she was alone in her room, she jumped out of bed--religion,
it seems, sometimes makes deception a necessity.

For a time she worked on the paper, bending close over it, cheeks
flushed, eyes shining, whispering as she scratched.

At supper, Missy was glad to learn that Pete had planned to attend the
meeting that evening. "Revivals" were not exactly in Pete's line; but as
long as Polly Currier had to be there, he'd decided he might as well go
to see her home. Moreover, he'd persuaded several others of "the crowd"
to go along and make a sort of party of it.

And Missy's strained ears caught no ominous suggestion as to her own
staying at home.

Later, walking sedately to the church between her grandparents, Missy
felt her heart beating so hard she feared they might hear it. Once
inside the church, she drew a long breath. Oh, if only she didn't have
so long to wait! How could she wait?

Polly Currier was again seated on the choir platform, to night an angel
in lavender mull. She had a bunch of pansies at her belt--pansies out
of grandma's garden. Pete must have given them to her! She now and then
smiled back toward the back pew where Pete and "the crowd" were sitting.

To Missy's delight