I knew that Margaret thought my conduct strange. Sometimes I seemed scarcely to live away from her; then I would change about, and not go near her for days. To Jamie, too, I was often unfriendly, for it maddened me to think he might be playing a double game. Mary seemed just as she always did. But then she was simple-minded, and would never suspect anything or anybody. It was astonishing, the state of excitement I finally worked myself into. That was my make. Once started upon a road, I would run its whole length. * * * * * February and March passed, and still we were not sent for to join our ship. Jamie was getting uneasy, living, as he said, so long upon strangers. Besides, I knew my manner troubled him. One evening, as we were sitting around our kitchen-fire, Margaret with the rest, Mr. Nathaniel came in, all of a breeze, scolding away about his fishermen. His schooner was all ready for The Banks, and two of his men had run off, with all their fitting-out. "Come, you two lazy chaps," said he, "you will just do to fill their places." "Agreed!" said Jamie. "I'll go, if Joseph will." "I'll go," said I. For I thought in a minute that he would rather not leave me behind, and I knew he needed the chance. The women all began to exclaim against it,--all but Margaret. She turned pale, and kept silence. That was Friday. The vessel would sail Monday. Mother was greatly troubled, but said, if I would go, she must make me comfortable; and all night I could hear her opening and shutting the bureau-drawers. Margaret stopped with Mary: I think they sewed till near morning. The next evening the singers met in the vestry, to practise the tunes for the Sabbath. We all sat in the singing-seats. I played the small bass-viol. Jamie sang counter, and the girls treble. Margaret had a sweet voice,--not very powerful. She sat in the seats because the other girls did. I went home with her that night. She seemed so sad, so tender in her manner, that I came near speaking,--came near telling her how much she was to me, and owning my feeling about Jamie. But I didn't quite. Something kept me from it. If there is such a thing as fate, 'twas that. Going home, however, I made a resolution that the next night I would certainly know, from her own lips, whether it was me she liked, or Jamie. I walked slowly home, and directly up-stairs to bed. I lay awake a long time, heard father and mother go to their chamber, then Mary and Sophy to theirs. At last I wondered what had become of Jamie. I pushed aside the window-curtain and looked out. 'Twas bright moonlight. I saw Jamie coming over the hill from Mr. Nathaniel's. He came in softly. I pretended sleep. He was still so long that I looked up to see what he could be doing. He was leaning his elbow on the desk, looking straight at the floor, thinking.