He came on three separate days, and he bent his ear over the keys in such a mournful way that I knew he must have fallen in love with me.

On the last day he offered to tune my harp for a dollar extra, but I refused, and when I asked him instead to tune Mother's mandoline he said he didn't know how.
Of course I told John nothing of all this.
Then there was Mr.McQueen, who came to the house several times to play cribbage with John.

He had been desperately in love with me years before--at least I remember his taking me home from a hockey match once, and what a struggle it was for him not to come into the parlour and see Mother for a few minutes when I asked him; and, though he was married now and with three children, I felt sure when he came to play cribbage with John that it _meant_ something.

He was very discreet and honourable, and never betrayed himself for a moment, and I acted my part as if there was nothing at all behind.

But one night, when he came over to play and John had had to go out, he refused to stay even for an instant.