He gasped in an agonised way, and almost choked. Laura thought it was the end, but he rallied again presently.
"One thing, darling—you must remember, if you have loved me—ah, and you have, dear—that no promise binds you. You must try and think that if you forego any happiness for the memory of me, you will be taking that same happiness from me as well as from yourself. It will be right and just that you should marry if you wish to."
"Oh, Herbert! Herbert!" cried Laura, pressing him to her, "do not talk so!"
"Promise me that you will never think yourself bound," he said earnestly, speaking with more and more effort. "I shall not die happily unless you do."
Laura bowed her head.
"I promise it, dear, because you wish it."
"Thank you, love."
He was silent for some time. He seemed to be thinking, or at least trying to collect his last thoughts.
"If it is a little girl, call her Laura," he said, in a breaking voice. "Then I shall know her in heaven, if she comes to me before you."
"Or else Herbert," said Laura, softly.