With an air of submission Bill took his post and Helen began to play, but she could only see before her, “I have loved you ever since that morning when I put the lilies in your hair,” and played so out of time and tune that Billy asked, “What makes ’em go so bad?” “I can’t play now; I’m not in the mood,” she said. “I shall feel better by and by. You can go home if you like.” Bill needed no second bidding, but catching up his cap ran down the stairs and out into the porch, just as up the steps a young man came hurriedly. “Hallo, boy,” he cried, grasping the collar of Bill’s roundabout and holding him fast, “who’s in the church?” “Darn yer, Jim Sykes, you let me be, or I’ll——” the boy began, but when he saw his captor was not _Jim Sykes_, but a tall man, wearing a soldier’s uniform, he changed his tone, and answered civilly, “I thought you was Jim Sykes, the biggest bully in town, who is allus hectorin’ us boys. Nobody is there but she——Miss Lennox—up where the organ is,” and having given the desired information, Bill ran off, wondering first if it wasn’t Miss Helen’s _beau_, and wondering next, in case she should sometime get married in church, if he wouldn’t fee the _organ boy_ as well as the sexton. “He orto,” Bill soliloquized, “for I’ve about blowed my gizzard out sometimes, when she and Mrs. Cameron sings the Te Deum.” Meanwhile Mark Ray, who had driven first to the farm-house in quest of Helen, entered the church, and stole noiselessly up the stairs to where Helen sat in the dim light, reading again the precious letter withheld from her so long. She had moved her stool nearer to the window, and her back was towards the door, so that she neither saw, nor heard, nor suspected anything, until Mark, bending over her so as to see what she had in her hand, as well as the _tear_ she had dropped upon it, clasped both his arms about her neck, and drawing her face over back, kissed her fondly, calling her his darling, and saying to her, as she tried to struggle from him, “I know I have a right to call you darling, by that tear on my letter, and the look upon your face. Dear Helen, we have found each other at last.” It was so unexpected that Helen could not speak, but she let her head rest on his bosom, where he had laid it, and her hand crept into his, so that he was answered, and for a moment he only kissed and caressed the fair girl he knew now was his own. They could not talk together very long, for Helen must go home; but he made good use of the time he had, telling her many things, and then asking her a question which made her start away from him as she replied. “No, no, oh! no, not to-night—not so soon as that!”