“Don’t you know why I hang around this House?” he said, in a very savige manner. “Because if you don’t everybody else does.”
Dear Log or Journal, I could but think of one thing, which was that I was not yet out, but still what is called a Sub-Deb, and so he was probably only joking, or perhaps merely playing with me.
I said so, in a low tone, but he only gave a Groan and said:
“I know you are not out and all the rest of it. Don’t I lie awake at night knowing it? And that’s the reason I——” Here he stopped and said: “Damm it” in a feirce voice. “Very well,” he went on. “I came to say Good-bye, and to ask you if you will write to me now and then. Because I’m going to War half because the Country needs me and the other half because I’m not going to disapoint a certain young Person who has a way of expecting people to be better than they are.”
He then very suddenly stood up and said:
“I guess I’d better go. And don’t you dare to cry, because if you do there will be Trouble.”
But I could not help it, as he was going to War for my Native Land, and might never come back. I therfore asked for his Handkercheif again, but he did not listen. He only said:
“You are crying, and I warned you.”
He then stooped over and put his hand under my Chin and said:
“Good-bye, sweetheart.”