"To America, to shoot bears," returns Baltimore with an embarrassed laugh. How near to tears it is.
"Real live bears?"
"Yes."
"Take me with you"? says the child, excitedly.
"And leave mamma?"
"Oh, she'll come, too," says Bertie, confidently. "She'll come where I go." Where he would go—the child! But would she go where the father went? Baltimore's brow darkens.
"I am afraid it is out of the question," he says, putting Bertie back again upon the carpet where the fox terrier is barking furiously and jumping up and down in a frenzied fashion as if desirous of devouring the child's legs. "The bears might eat you. When you are big and strong——"
"You will come back for me?" cries Bertie, eagerly.
"Perhaps."
"He will not," breaks in Lady Baltimore violently. "He will come back no more. When he goes you will never see him again. He has said so. He is going forever!" These last two terrible words seem to have sunk into her soul. She cannot cease from repeating them.