He turned away; but I clung to him. "Take me with you!" I exclaimed; "take me with you!"
"I cannot, Margaret," gently replied Cornelius, striving to disengage his hand from mine.
"I won't stay here," I cried indignantly.
"You must," he quietly answered.
I dropped his hand, and burst into tears. He looked pained; but his resolve did not alter.
"It cannot be helped," he said. "Good bye! I shall come and see you."
He held out his hand to me; but I felt forsaken and betrayed, and turned away resentfully. He bent over me.
"Will you not bid me good-bye?" he asked.
I flung my arms round his neck; and, sobbing bitterly, I exclaimed, "Oh! why then won't you take me with you?" He did not answer, gave me a quiet kiss, untwined my arms from around his neck, exchanged a formal adieu with my grandfather, and left me as unconcernedly as if, little more than an hour before, he had not taken me in his arms, and cherished me in that lonely garden, where I, so foolishly mistaking pity for fondness, had given him an affection he evidently did not prize, and which, as I now began to feel, had no home save the grave of the dead.