“And so will I you, ma’am,” he answered, and turned away to hide his tears.
Lastly Lyon Berners rode up to where Farmer Nye stood apart.
“Farewell, Farmer Nye! And may you indeed fare as well as your great heart deserves all your life,” said Lyon.
“The same to you and your dear wife, sir, with all my soul in the prayer!” responded the farmer.
“And here, Mr. Nye, is a testimonial—I mean a memorandum—that is to say, something I wish you to take for my sake.”
“A keepsake, sir?”
“If you choose to consider it so, yes.”
“What might it be sir?” inquired the farmer, receiving from Mr. Berners the small envelope containing the large note.
“It might be a lock of my wife’s hair, or it might be my miniature; but whatever it is, hold it tight, and do not look at it until you get back to the house.”
“All right, sir; but you have raised my curiosity,” replied the farmer, as he carefully deposited his unsuspected little fortune into the pocket of his waistcoat.