“Don’t do that way, Nellie!” he implored, gently. “We shall meet again—some time.”
“Some time!” she sobbed. “When?”
“I can’t tell that.”
She turned quickly, reached up and put her arms about his neck, burying her face on his breast, where she wept, while he vainly tried to comfort her.
“Nellie, Nellie, don’t!” he pleaded, his own voice husky. “I can’t bear this! Please don’t—for my sake!”
“For your sake!” she murmured. “For your sake, Frank, I’ll try not to cry. You have been so good to us. Oh, I shall miss you so much! Heaven bless and keep you, Frank! Heaven guide you to Elsie! May you prosper—may you always be happy! I shall pray for you every night!”
“And I shall pray for you, dear little friend,” he said, in his sincere, manly way. “I will write to you often.”
Then they sat down together, hand in hand, and talked of the future.