But when he had his arms around the girl’s neck, clasping the slender chain in place, Jim could not resist the temptation of drawing her close to him. She did not resist, so he held her closer for a moment in a fond embrace, and then raising her head, their lips met in a loving kiss.
“My little girl,” murmured Jim. “My dear little girl.” Then releasing her he said, “I chose this pendant because I knew you would not accept a ring.” Dorothy shook her head, but made no audible response.
“Not until you have had plenty of time to know your own mind, but that you should have by the time you have returned from your trip. Then, Dorothy girl, you will give me my answer?”
“Perhaps, Jim,” whispered Dorothy. “Perhaps then I will.”
“Can’t we keep the reason, the real reason, secret. We can have this one secret from everyone else, can’t we? Tell them all it is a little parting gift from me. Then when you come back, girl, you can tell them, if you decide to—if you can love me enough. Until then it’s our secret,” said Jim.
“I must go show it to Aunt Betty and Alfy. It’s such a beautiful pendant I want everyone to see it,” said Dorothy. “And I must get my things collected, for you see I have a lot to do. I wonder if I can prove anything without the locket.”
“Maybe they will accept Aunt Betty’s word for things. But the hard part of it all is that you go away to-morrow for such a long trip,” said Jim. “And, Dorothy, how I shall miss you! I won’t know what to do without you.”
“Yes, you will,” responded Dorothy. “You will have to work and work very hard at your new position.”
“Yes, indeed I will,” laughed Jim, “very hard indeed. If I want to get married soon, I shall have to economize and save all I can.”
“Foolish boy,” said Dorothy. “Good-bye; I am going to leave you here all, all alone,” and she ran over to Jim, put her hands in his and looked up at him, saying, “You are a dear, good boy, and I shall prize my pendant highly, and wear it always, and when I do think of you.”