"Don't talk or anything, just wish, oh, wish with all your might—
"'With all my mind and all my heart,
While we're together and after we part'—
"say that."
Abbott repeated gravely:
"'With all my mind and all my heart,
While we're together and after we part.'
"What are you going to wish, Fran?"
"Sh-h-h! Mum!" whispered Fran, opening her eyes wide. With slow steps they walked side by side, shoulder to shoulder, four hands clasped. Fran's great dark eyes were set fixedly upon space as they solemnly paraded beneath the watchful moon. As Abbott watched her, the witchery of the night stole into his blood. Beneath them, the brook murmured drowsily in its dark bed. Beyond, stretched the meadows, and, far away, the woods. Before them, and behind, ran the rutted road, hard and gleaming. Over them, the moon showered its profusion of silver beams. Within them were—wishes.
The last plank was crossed. "Now!" Fran cried breathlessly, "what did you wish?" Her body was quivering, her face glowing.
"That I might succeed," Abbott answered.
"Oh!" said Fran. "My! That was like a cold breath. Just wishing to be great, and famous, and useful, and rich!"