"Miss Walton," he said, calmly, "I've made no sacrifice for you. The thought of that episode in the orchard is my one comfort while lying here, and will be through what is left of life. But please do not speak of it, for it will become a pain to me if I see the obligation is a burden to you."
"It is not," she said, eagerly. "I'm glad to owe my life to you. But do you think I can go on my way and forget you?"
"It's the very best you can do, Miss Walton."
"But I tell you it's impossible. Thank God, it's not my nature to do it!"
He turned toward her with a wistful, searching look.
"We must carry out our old agreement," continued Annie. "We must be close and lasting friends. You should not blame me for an attachment formed years ago."
"I do not blame you."
"Then you should not punish me so severely. You first make your friendship needful to me, and then you deny it."
"I am your friend, and more."
"How can we enjoy a frank and happy friendship through coming years, after—after—you feel differently from what you do now, when you will not even hear the name of him who will one day be my second self?"