ers had intended for
Henry Fair. Neither Miss Garnet nor Mr. March gave the other's proximity
more than its due recognition; they talked with almost everyone about
almost everything, and as far as they knew said and did nothing to
betray the fact that they were as happy as Psyche in a swing with Cupid
to push and run under.

Nobody went to evening service. They sang hymns at the piano, selecting
oftenest those which made best display of Miss Garnet's and Mr. March's
voices. Hers was only mezzo-soprano and not brilliant, but Mr. March and
a very short college girl, conversing for a moment aside, agreed that it
was "singularly winsome." Another college girl, very tall, whispered to
Barbara that his was a "superb barrytone!" The young man entered deeper
and deeper every moment into the esteem of the household, and they into
his. The very best of the evening came last, when, at the widow's
request, the two Southerners sang, without the instrument, a hymn or two
of the Dixie mountaineers: "To play on the golden harp" and "Where
there's no more stormy clouds arising." Being further urged for a negro
hymn, John began "Bow low a little bit longer," which Barbara, with a
thrill of recollection and an involuntary gesture of pain, said she
couldn't sing, and they gave another instead, one of the best, and
presently had the whole company joining in the clarion refrain of "O
Canaan! bright Canaan!" Barbara heard her college mates still singing it
in their rooms on either side of her after she had said her prayers with
her cheek on John March's photograph.

To her painful surprise when she awoke next day she found herself in a
downcast mood. She could not even account for the blissful frame in
which she had gone to bed. She had not forgotten one word or tone of all
John March had said to her while carried away from his fine resolution
by the wave of ecstasy which followed their unexpected meeting, but the
sunset light, their thrilling significances, were totally gone from
them. Across each utterance some qualifying word or clause, quite
overlooked till now, cast its morning shadow. Not so much as one fond
ejaculation of his impulsive lips last evening but she could explain
away this morning, and she felt a dull, half-guilty distress in the fear
that her blissful silences had embarrassed him into letting several
things imply more than he intended. Before she was quite dressed one of
her fellow-students came in with an anguished face