“That is very likely!” I said, laughing in my heart at the idea.
“And you will be good, Frank, will you not?”
“My darling,” I said, “with God’s grace I shall never from henceforth be unworthy of your trust in me, either in thought, in word, or, in deed.”
“But America is so far off!” she said again after a bit, with a tender little sigh.
“Not so very far,”—I replied,—“and, though my body may be a few miles distant from you—for it is only a few miles over the sea—you may know that my heart will always be with you. I shall be ever thinking of the time when I can come back and claim you as my own darling little wife!”
“But I can make no promise, you know, Frank!”—she said.
“Never mind that, darling!”—I replied.—“I am sanguine enough to believe you will not change towards me if I deserve you by my life; and I shall never marry anyone else, I know!”
“It is so hard, too, our not being able to write to each other! I will never be able to know what you are doing!” she said, again.
“Ah, yes, you will!” said I, to encourage her.
As she became despondent, I got sanguine; although, a tear in the soft grey eyes would have unmanned me at once.