When Steve said that he must go, she did not try to keep him, but her eyes were brimming with tears when he tenderly kissed her good-bye, as he had always been in the habit of doing, and she pressed a roll of money in his hand, whispering, “It is my own.”
“No, no, little mother,” he said with determined 128 good cheer, “I do not need it. I was very economical the last few weeks at school, for I had forebodings of trouble; then,––I earned some money writing little stories for boys, the past year.”
Scarcely noticing the last remark she hesitated a moment, wanting to insist that he take it, and yet reluctant. Then she held him by the shoulders with her slender hands, and said earnestly:
“If you ever need, you will let me know, will you not?”
“I certainly will, dearest little mother in the world,” he said, his own eyes glistening with tears.
There was a formal leave-taking with Mr. Polk at the office, and then he went his way back to the mountains of his birth.