Aye, well and well-a-day;
Lover will never come back to thee
Who loves and gallops away."
CHAPTER VII.
"How pale you are this morning, my child," said Mr. Ives to his daughter.
"It is nothing. I have had a feverish night; the story of the fate of my poor friend haunted me," she answered. She could not eat, the cold had chilled her blood, and now and then she shivered painfully.
Betty sought her opportunity in spite of her bodily discomforts, and fondly caressing her father's hands she knelt down by his chair.
"Father," she said. "Dear father, you know that very soon I am going to leave you, to be married to my own true love. Our wedding-day is fixed, but I dare say he will not be back much before then. Do you think he will? Oh no, probably not."
"Why, child, to be sure he will! He will be back in a few days at the outside. Why, silly child, you will make a poor wife if you fret always when your husband is from home."