"I will broider a bodice—the most beautiful; and you shall give it. Remember, Roy, it is not a little matter. It is for always."
"Even when I'm a grown-up man?"
"Yes, even then. If she shall ask from you any service, you must not refuse—ever."
Roy wrinkled his forehead. He had forgotten that part of it. Tara might ask anything. You couldn't tell with girls. He had a moment of apprehension.
"But, Mummy, I don't think—Tara didn't mean all that. It's only—our sort of game of play——"
Unerringly she read his thoughts, and shook her head at him with smiling eyes, as when he made naughty faces about Aunt Jane.
"Too sacred thing for only game of play, Roy. By keeping the bracelet, you are bound." Her smile deepened. "You were not afraid of the big rude boy. Yet you are just so much afraid—for Tara." She indicated the amount with the rose-pink tip of her smallest finger. "Tara—almost like sister—would never ask anything that could be wrong to do."
At this gentle rebuke he flushed and held his head a shade higher.
"I'm not afraid, Mummy. And I will keep the bracelet—and I am bound."
"That is my brave son."