“Ye’ll not? Ye’ll stay along o’ me?”
“Why, ye see,” she began, bewildered, “I’ll—why, o’ course, I’ll—oh,” she complained, “what ye ask me that for?”
“Jus’ couldn’t help it,” said “By-an’-by,” humbly.
“Don’t!” pleaded “By-an’-by” Brown. “Jus’ can’t stand it. I’ll do anything if ye’ll on’y stop cryin’. Ye can have your father. Ye needn’t love me no more. Ye can go away along o’ he. An’ he’ll be comin’ soon, too. Ye’ll see if he don’t. Jus’ by-an’-by—by-an’-by!”
“’Tis never,” the maid sobbed.
“No, no! By-an’-by is soon. Why,” cried “By-an’-by” Brown, perceiving that this intelligence stopped the child’s tears, “by-an’-by is—wonderful soon.”
“To-morrow?”
“Well, no; but—”
“’Tis never!” she wailed.