"All is ended now," replied her lover; "on earth there is nothing more for me."
"Or me!" said Ethel, upbraidingly.
"True; in the selfishness of my own love and grief, I forget yours."
The girl's tears fell fast, and he held her locked to his breast; for there was no eye on them in that sequestered lane, where the evening star, sparkling like a diamond set in amber, alone looked on them.
After a pause:
"See, Morley," said the girl, with a lovely smile, as she drew her ribbon from her bosom; "our split sixpence!"
"Here is the other half, dear Ethel. I used to carry it at my watch-guard, but seals and charms are dangerous gear among the black fellows of the Bonny River, who want every trinket they see, so I thought it safer where your lock of hair lay—next my heart. It was a happy hour in which you gave me that dear lock, my sweet Ethel."
"It was on an evening in summer, when we sat yonder by the old stile at the churchyard. How often have I wished to live that hour over again!" sighed his companion.
"And, sweet one, so we shall in reality, as I have often done in my day-dreams, when far, far away from this dear home and you; but this approaching separation crushes the heart within me, and destroys all hope for the future."
"Take courage, Morley, though I have none," said the young girl, while still her tears fell fast.