“Will he no be coming to the wedding?”
“Not he. It is too far and it takes too long. My mother would have me wait till Archie could tie the knot, but David is persistent. David doesn’t talk much, but when he wants to make a point, somehow one must give in to him.”
“It’s to be hoped, then, for your sake, that his points will be such as you can approve,” laughed Agnes.
“Ah, but they will be,” returned Jeanie, with the blissful assurance of one in love.
“Shall I take the loom or the wheel?” asked Agnes.
“Oh, the wheel,” returned Jeanie, adjusting the heavy clacking machine before which she stood. And soon the buzz of the wheel and the clatter of the loom drowned their attempts at conversation except when Jeanie stopped to tie a thread or Agnes replenished her wool. They could, however, entertain themselves in another way, and presently Agnes started up one of the old psalms and Jeanie joined in.
VERY SWEETLY DID THE GIRLISH VOICES SOUND
Very sweet did the girlish voices sound to the accompaniment of the whirring wheel and the shuffling loom, and David thought so as he paused outside to listen. Jeanie, tall and straight, her dark eyes aglow, flung out her song with spirit as she sent her shuttle back and forth. Agnes, fair and graceful, stepped forward and back, and sang less vehemently but with more sweetness. “It’s a pretty picture,” said David to himself, “and I hate to disturb it, but a man can’t keep back good news.”
As his figure darkened the doorway the two girls turned, and a rosy flush mounted to Jeanie’s dark cheek. She stopped her work and stood still, but Agnes went on faster. “It’s not the time to stop,” she said, nodding merrily to David, “or Jeanie’s chest will not be full against the wedding.”