Time dragged heavily on my hands after the excitement of the squire's ball was over. It was not only that I had to go back to the routine of every-day life—for there was still the concert to look forward to, which gave us plenty of interest—but it was that during a whole fortnight I had been looking for news from Joyce, and that Joyce had said never a word. No; she had rather been more silent than usual, and unlike her own and happy self; and I had been frightened, frightened at sight of the that I had let loose, and doubtful whether, in spite of all his democratic theories, this handsome, courtly, , who was my embodiment of romance, was really a fit mate for the damsel in the quiet shade.  
Well, anyhow the torrent rolled on, whether it was really I who had set it free or not, and I was forced to stand aside and watch its course without more ado.
 
There had been plenty to watch. The village concert had come and gone; it had taken place a week after the squire's ball. Captain Forrester had worked us very hard for it towards the end. We had had practisings every afternoon, and I had rehearsed my solos ; but, save for singing in the glees and playing an accompaniment now and then, Joyce had taken no active part in the musical performance, and I had fancied that she had kept out of the way a great deal more than she need have done.

 
On the night of the concert he was, of course, too much excited until the performance was over, to remember even Joyce at first; for he was one of those natures who throw themselves into whatever they take up; and he was just as eager over this entertainment, of which he had accepted the responsibility, as though it were going to be given before a select company instead of before a handful of country bumpkins.
 
Well, he was rewarded for his pains. The concert was voted a brilliant success, and by a long way the best that had ever been given in the village.
 
"When stars are in the quiet skies," and " Adair," which I sang "by request,&............