She read the beautiful poem over and over again, until she knew every word by heart.

The lines even floated dreamily through her brain in her sleep.

She would awaken with them on her lips.

Ah, surely, the poem was from Lester Armstrong, she fully believed.

It read as follows: "What have I done that one face holds me so, And follows me in fancy through the day?
Why do I seek your love?
I only know That fate is resolute, and points the way To where you stand, bathed in amber light.
Since first you looked on me I've seen no night-- What have I done?
"What can be done?
As yet no touch, no kiss; Only a gaze across your eyes' blue lake.
Better it were, sweetheart, to dream like this, Than afterward to shudder and awake.
Love is so very bitter, and his ways Tortured with thorns--with wild weeds overgrown.
Must I endure, unloved, these loveless days ?-- What can be done?
"This I say, 'Marry where your heart goes first, Dear heart, and then you will be blessed.
Ah, how can others choose for you What is for your best?
If you're told to wed for gold, Dear girl, or for rank or show, Stand by love, and boldly say, "No, my heart cries no!"'" Like most young girls, pretty Margery was sentimental.