“Violet, do you know I feel very strangely about Boy!”
“Do you, my own Miss Letty?”—and Violet slipped an affectionate arm about her—“What do you feel?”
“Well,—you will think me a very foolish old woman perhaps, my dear—but I feel that Boy—the Boy I loved—is not here any more. He is not dead, but he has gone!—gone in some way that I cannot explain,—but I shall meet him in Heaven! Yes!” and Miss Letty smiled—“I shall find him again,—I shall find the little fair soul of the child that used to call me ‘Kiss Letty’—the soul that is no longer here,—but—there!”
She raised her soft blue eyes, radiant with love and trust; and Violet looked at her with the worship of a devotee for a shrined saint. Miss Letty, presently meeting this upturned adoring gaze, bent down and kissed her very tenderly.
“And so, dear girl,” she continued, “we will say no more of Boy just now. Boy is put away among an old woman’s sentimental memories. The last illusion of a life, my dear!—the last illusion of a life! Let it go,—back to God where it came from! Because He will restore to us all our lost beautiful things, and teach us why they were taken from us for a little while—only for a little while....”
She pressed Violet’s hand,—then, with a slight effort, rose from her chair, and smiled cheerfully.
“Put your things on, little one!” she said—“we will go for a drive. And we will think of nothing except just how to make ourselves pleasant and kind to every one for the passing hour,—for that is as much a duty as anything else in this world. Run away!—dress quickly!”
Violet kissed her, and ran off.
When she was gone, Miss Letty stood gazing into vacancy, with a strangely wearied expression. A grey shadow, like a hint of death, clouded her sweet old face for the first time.
“Good-bye, Boy!” she whispered softly to the silence.... “Good-bye, dear little Boy! God bless you!”