“Yes. And I know you never break your word—never. You said you wished to speak to me of my future.”
“Exactly. I could not go to England and leave you here alone and friendless, Winona,” he replied. “I could not bear it.”
The girl shivered. A month ago, she was a happy, careless child; to-day she had a woman’s heart and endurance. Of course he must go sometime, this kind friend; what should she do then?
“Yet I must stay. I have nowhere else to go.”
“Surely you know of some friends—relatives?”
She shook her head.
“Papa never spoke of any. He used to say that we two had only each other to love, poor papa. Oh!” with a piteous burst of grief, “I wanted no one else but papa, and now he is gone.”
“As He gave, so He has a right to take, Winona,” said Warren, gravely. He saw that she was indeed “cast upon his care;” surely there must have been some dark shadow in White Eagle’s past life to cause him to bury himself here in a wilderness among savages. Well, it must be as he had planned. He explained to Winona all that he had told Mr. Maybee.
“And you will take Judah with you?”
“Certainly,” replied Warren, “You shall not be separated.” The girl heaved a deep sigh of content. “I will go with you to your home gladly.”