ourt; later on the carriage
would bring down a hamper of flowers, freshly cut and fragrant. The
sexton came forward with a box containing the tin vases and fitments
provided for such occasions, and delivered the usual warning about
nails. The Vicar would allow no nails. Teresa took off her long coat
and placed it in a pew; the blue of her blouse seemed to take an added
richness from the austerity of the surroundings. How glad she was that
she had disobeyed her mother and kept it on!

Presently the Vicarage party arrived, and quickly following one after
another the helpers. Teresa lifted the flower-pots one by one and
placed them behind the delicate tracery of the oak screen, so that the
pots themselves were hidden and the carved openings appeared to give a
vista into a sweet spring garden.

All the while she worked, she kept a strained outlook for Dane's
appearance. When another helper approached, and would have loitered in
conversation, she made a speedy excuse for hurrying away, lest he should
come now, and their meeting be marred; when her back was turned to the
aisle she listened for the sound of his footsteps. At any moment he
might enter, stand by her side, call to her in his full, rich tones:
"Miss Teresa!"

Eleven o'clock came, and he had not appeared; half-past eleven. All the
pots were arranged. Intentionally Teresa had lingered over the work,
dreading to begin the more elaborate decorations which would require
aid. If she were seen mounting a stool, some of the men helpers would
at once come forward to assist; and Dane entering and seeing her thus
provided, might attach himself to someone else. A dull ache of
disappointment filled Teresa's heart. If he really cared; if the
opportunity meant to him what it did to herself, he would not have
wasted the hours. She put her last pot in its place, stood back to view
the effect, and heard at last the longed-for words of welcome.

"Miss Teresa--here I am; bright and early, you see! What have you got
for me to do?"

He was smiling, composed, unconscious of offence. The ache sharpened
into pain at the realisation, but Teresa had a wisdom beyond her years,
and allowed no sign of disappointment to become visible. To sulk and
looked aggrieved was not the way to increase a man's admiration. She
smiled into his eyes, and cried readily:

"Heaps of things! I need you for all the stretchy places. You are so
big. And those great palms... They have to