"Why, I have got to take my chances with the children."
"Rather dangerous, isn't it?"
"I—I suppose so; the school is to be closed for two weeks."
Will did not like that, he would miss the walks that he had been enjoying with her.
"Are you going home soon?" he asked.
"Yes, but you must not go with me to-day."
"I'm not afraid," said Will, quickly.
"But I am—for you," she replied. The tiniest bit of hesitation before the "for you" made Will happy, but he made no reply. Perhaps it was the time, or place, or the big blue eyes of Bessie Duncan peering at him over the window-sill, that restrained him from speaking the words that trembled on his lips.
"Good-bye," was all he said, as he turned quickly and strode away. In place of the sun and sky, the woods and fields, he saw her face. He did not hear the chatter of the crows, or the soughing of the wind; only her voice could he hear saying, "Will," and "for you."
Barbara and Bessie watched until he disappeared around a bend in the road.