John took out his watch and looked at it.
“It’s just four now,” he said, “and I must go by five; only one hour, May!”
May sighed softly, and John turned round and looked at her earnestly, and then also sighed.
“The last few days have been very bright, haven’t they, May?” he said.
“Yes,” half-whispered May.
“Too bright, I am afraid,” went on John; “it will make the coming ones seem dull.”
“There may be some bright ones still,” said May, in a low tone, with downcast eyes and blushing cheeks.
Again John looked at her. How pretty she was in her white frock and crimson ribbons! She had a crimson rose in her waistband and another at her throat. “Truly a fair picture,” John was thinking, and it was hard, very hard, to say the word he meant to speak.
“I am going away, May, for a bit,” he said at length, with an effort.