He disengaged her arm.
"And will you come and fetch me after—after—"
She could not say the word. He smiled and answered, "Why, yes, yes."
Her fingers trembled and clung together; her head fell; her cheeks were aglow.
"Why, of course." He smiled again, as if in deprecation of so much child-like earnestness; then put his arm about the girl's shoulder, dropped his voice to a tone of mingled compassion and affection, and said, as he lifted the brightening face to his, "There, there—now go off and make ready."
The girl brushed her tears away vigorously, and looked half ashamed and half enchanted.
"I'm going."
"That's a good little girl."
How the sunshine came back at the sound of his words!
"Good-bye for the present, Mercy—only for the present, you know."