“Which way are you going, Paul?” asked Jane, struggling to keep back her tears.
Paul looked up at the weather-beaten sign-post.
“To the City,” he said firmly. “That’s the road I’m taking now, Janey.”
“Oh, Paul! Where will you be? Where will you be?”
“I don’t know, Janey. I can’t tell you. I don’t know anything now. But I shall be all right—don’t worry about me.”
“Oh, will you ever, ever come back again?” Poor Janey’s tears streamed down her rosy cheeks. Paul looked at her seriously.
“Yes, I will, Janey. I promise you that. I don’t know when or how, but I’ll be back some day. Now give me the kiss Aunt Gertrude sent, and one from you.”
She dried her eyes on her apron, and then standing on tip-toe, put both her arms around his neck and kissed him on each cheek.
“Good-bye, Paul.”
“Good-bye, Janey.”