"No, no," she said. "But, Leslie, how can I let you go?"
"'Tis but a little while," he answered, soothingly. "Be brave, my precious darling!"
He drew her to his heart with a long, despairing embrace, and kissed her passionately.
"My little love, my own sweet wife, good-bye!" he faltered, and was gone.
Bonnibel threw out her yearning arms as if she would draw him back, then turned and staggered homeward.
"I will be brave," she murmured. "I will try to bear it, but, oh, this pain at my heart."
She opened the gate and went softly up the walk. It was almost midnight, and she began to wonder if the doors would be locked.
"If they are I shall have to get in through the window," she said to herself.
But as she stepped on the piazza she saw the front door open and her uncle sitting motionless in his easy chair.
"Poor dear," she thought, with a thrill of regretful tenderness, and forgetting herself entirely. "He has fallen asleep in his chair and they have all forgotten him. I will wake him with a kiss."