While these mingled thoughts of joy and doubt possessed him, a ray of sunshine crept into the dark church. It lingered on Eva's head, making a halo of her golden hair. A moment later he saw two eyes, mirroring some of the sky's own blue, dart him a shy glance. And he heard a voice so sweet that he was sure the angels themselves stood still to listen. Come what might, thought he, he would speak to her that very day. The service was over. One by one the people filed slowly between the dark pillars, and out of the church, into the bright sunshine. Only Eva and Magdalena lingered, smiling and chatting with friends and neighbors as they walked slowly along. As they approached the pillar behind which Sir Walter stood, he stepped forward. The long, white plume of his hat swept the floor as he bowed in greeting. "One word, my fair maid, I entreat," he began. Strange to say, the moment Eva heard his voice she discovered that she had forgotten her handkerchief. Perhaps it was in the pew. Magdalena must return for it. Then, with the maid safely out of hearing, Eva turned her mischievous face to Sir Walter. She was ready to listen, so he spoke. Did Eva look upon him with favor? Might he hope? Scarcely were the words out of his mouth, when Magdalena was back again, handkerchief in hand. "Come, Eva," she said; "it is growing late." But Eva was in no hurry, with this gallant cavalier close at hand. Perhaps he wished to tell her a beautiful story. Had Magdalena seen her scarfpin? It was gone. Was it there on the floor? "Good Lena, go back and find it," said the artful Eva. And Lena went back, grumbling, and searched here, there, and everywhere. Meanwhile Sir Walter improved his opportunity. The words hurried to his lips. He begged Eva to tell him whether light and happiness, or gloom and doubt, were to be his portion. The answering words were trembling on Eva's lips ready to be spoken. But there stood the ubiquitous Magdalena again, with the scarfpin! "We must go home," she said. "Come. Here's your kerchief and your pin. But where's my prayer book? Oh, alackaday! I've left it in the pew!" Back she bustled once more. These interruptions served to make Sir Walter more impatient than ever. Would he never be able to make love in peace? He took a long breath, leaned forward, and whispered eagerly: "May I hope? Or are you promised to some one else?" And for answer, while Eva hid her eyes for fear they would tell of her love too soon, there was Magdalena again! "Yes, Sir Walter," said Magdalena, and she curtsied low, wishing to be most polite to this handsome young man. "Yes, Sir Walter," she repeated. "Our Eva is betrothed." Betrothed? Sir Walter was stunned into silence; misery spread itself like a black cloud over his face. Nor did the reply please Miss Eva, either. She quickly interrupted, saying: "But no one knows who the bridegroom will be. No, not until to-morrow."