“It’s the way with everyone when they’re going away,” answered his sister. “And I’m sick at heart that ye are goin’, Fergus. Is Derry far away?”
“A longish way—”
“Out beyont the moon, is it?” asked the child, pointing at the hills and the moon above them.
“Maybe,” said the youth; then in a low voice: “D’ye know what they do in other countries when they are saying ‘Good-bye’?”
“Then I don’t,” answered Norah.
“They do this,” said the young man, and he pressed his lips against his sister’s cheek.
“But they never do that here,” said the girl, and both blushed as if they had been discovered doing something very wrong. “I’ll say a long prayer for you every night, when you are away, Fergus.”
The boy looked at her, rubbed one bare foot on the ground and seemed on the point of saying something further; then without a word he turned and walked off along the wet road. Norah kept looking after him till he was out of sight, then, with her eyes full of tears, she went back to her home.