Mr. Hayward’s carriage was soon afterwards at the door; it was announced in the drawing-room, and he and Mrs. Hayward arose to depart. They were both deeply affected; as may well be imagined Herbert was so too, and spoke with difficulty; but they blessed him, and gave him their fervent wishes for success, and a safe return within the time he had appointed, as warmly as if he had been one of their own children.
‘I have only one last favour to beg, dear Mrs. Hayward,’ he said, as he handed her into the carriage, ‘that you will allow Amy to walk home under my escort; I shall feel very thankful, if you will consent.’
‘I will not refuse you, Herbert,’ she said: ‘be gentle to her, for she loves you very deeply; never disappoint her in writing, for I am well convinced your letters will be her life while you are away. I will endeavour to make every allowance for the delay which needs must occur in the transmission of letters from such a distance; but still you must be punctual and regular. Remember, these are my last and only commands upon you; take Amy with you now, but do not keep her out late, for the dews are heavy and may hurt you both. Now God bless you!’
‘My letters shall be my best answers to your commands,’ said Herbert; ‘believe me, I shall not miss a single opportunity of sending many to you all, for you will never be absent from my thoughts. The time will soon pass, and I hope and trust we shall all again be reunited in this dear spot—till then good-bye! good-bye!’
‘Mrs. Hayward says I may escort Amy home through the park, sir,’ said Herbert to Mr. Hayward, who was following; ‘we shall hardly lose our way in this beautiful moonlight, and I hope you have no objection?’
‘Not if you promise you will not be late, Herbert; but I leave her to your own discretion; I have not the heart to part you to-night; so farewell, my brave boy! I trust we shall see you back soon a colonel at least. You will not forget to write punctually, as well for our sake as for Amy’s.’
‘I have already promised Mrs. Hayward that,’ said Herbert, ‘and most faithfully will I fulfil it.’
‘Then I will say no more, but again farewell, and God bless you!’
He wrung Herbert’s hand warmly, and with cordial sincerity, and stepping into the carriage, it drove rapidly away.
‘Now, dearest,’ said Herbert, ‘at least we can have a few moments which we can call our own—moments to be the food of years; when every word, however trivial, that one has uttered, will be to the other the most precious in the stock of our hearts remembrances. Come, let us stroll gently on.’