Lie low, as thou dost lie.
And happy he, above whose head
One fond, regretful tear is shed.
For whom one soul doth sigh.
“There’s resignation for you!” he said, as he finished. But the others, even the voluble Brenda, did not know just what to say. Now, Fritz, after the manner of boys,—and girls, too, for that matter,—having gratified his little desire for getting even with Amy, began to feel ashamed of himself, and although he had several other poems in his pocket, taken, like those he had read, from between the leaves of the book on Amy’s desk, he decided to read no more.
When he rose to leave the group, Amy would not respond to his word of good-bye, though he stood before her for a moment, as he raised his hat before finally starting off.
The other girls, feeling that they knew Amy so much less thoroughly than Fritz did, were uncertain what to say.
Amy relieved them of part of their embarrassment by suggesting that they turn back towards the town.
“We may have to wait for the next car, and we want to have time to visit St. Michael’s Church.”
Julia led the way with Amy, and they walked some distance ahead of the other two. The poetry which Fritz had read had made a great impression on Brenda, not so much because it was poetry, as because Amy had written it.
“She does n’t seem like just the same girl to me, does
