'And watch for his coming back?'
'Oh Willie, poor Cuthbert is dead.'
'Don't say that, Hildred—don't think it. I know that every one here believes it, but I don't. Some day we shall see him again.'
She sat down on the bank, with her hands, which she had clasped together, lying listlessly in her lap. I saw she did not share in my belief, and when I repeated 'He will come back to you,' she only shook her head.
'But at least'—I asked the question almost in a whisper—'at least you love him the same as ever?'
'It all seems so long ago,' she said, simply.
I turned away, angry with myself that the words gave me such a thrill of pleasure—almost angry with her for making me unfaithful. We were both false to him, for I had let her forget him.
'Oh Hildred,' I said, not speaking as I felt, 'and he loved you so dearly.'
My voice must have been very reproachful, though in truth the reproach was against myself, not against her, poor child. The tears came into her eyes, but she only repeated what she had said before: 'It does seem so very long ago.'
I did not know how to go on. For a time neither of us spoke. At last she said, 'Is it very wrong of me?'