Once Eliza’s work in the kitchen was done and her aunt had taken herself off to bed for a long afternoon nap, Eliza hurried to her own room. There, she wrote the note she had been composing in her head repeatedly for the last three days since discovering Eb’s own startling note. What had gotten into her to second-guess her feelings for Eb like this? All the same, she’d found herself daydreaming about him. Was she making a mistake upon a mistake?

Lest her aunt get any ideas, Eliza hid her little diary under the bureau, kneeling down to push it far back against the wall and out of sight.

Then, rushing out of the house and up the road to the wall, she looked for the spot where Eb’s note had been. There’s the tall pin oak, like a watchman on the lookout. . . .

She quickly found the crevice in the wall, as well as Eb’s note, which was still there. Tugging it out from its well-concealed spot, she opened it with trembling fingers. Her eyes flew at once to the lines that had angered her upon first reading.

I’ve missed seeing you, Eliza. I like spending time with you. But since we really shouldn’t be seen together because of our different backgrounds—if you would even like to see me again, that is—I wondered if you might leave a note here for me, too . . . if you’ve found this one. . . .

She dropped to the ground and sat there in the sunlight as tears sprang to her eyes. If you would even like to see me again, Eb had written.

“Jah,” she whispered, blinking away these sudden tears. “I do want to see you, more than you know.”

But I shouldn’t, she reminded herself, realizing that Eb had written nearly the same thought.

“What’s gotten into me?” she wondered aloud, then remembered what her great-aunt had said about young women and muttering. “Puh!” She reached in her pocket for a hankie and promptly dried her eyes. “I best get ahold of myself.”

She found her note in the other pocket, the one she’d penned to Eb back at the house, and reread it, her heart beating fast. Then, knowing she could never let him read such friendly-like thoughts, she wondered again what on earth she had been thinking. Was she simply lonely for home and family?

Eliza sat there in the thick green grass and tore up her note, pushing the pieces back into her pocket. I’d be a Dummkopp to give this to him!

With that, she rose and scurried across the meadow toward the road.

Her eyes were cast down as she hurried on her way, hugging the shoulder as she went. Her thoughts were a combination of self-reproach and bewilderment, and it embarrassed her even more that she had actually thought it was all right to return a note to Eb.