"I oughtn't to have taken it!" said G. G. And then on his face she saw the first shadow that ever he had let her see of doubt and of misgiving. "Listen!" he said. "My darling! I think that I shall get well.... I think that, once I am well, I shall be able to work very hard. I have nothing. I love you so that I think even angels don't want to do right more than I do. Is that anything to offer? Not very much." "Nobody in all the world," said she, "will ever have the chance to offer me anything else—just because I'm a kid doesn't mean that I don't know the look of forever when I see it." "Is it really forever?" he said. "For you too?" "For me—surely!" "Ah," said he, "what shall I think of to promise you?" His face was a flash of ecstasy. [Pg 38] [Pg 38] "You don't even have to promise that you will get well," she said. "I know you will try your hardest. No matter what happens—we're final—and I shall stick to you always, and nothing shall take you from me, and nobody.... When I am of age I shall tell my papa about us and then we shall be married to each other! And meanwhile you shall write to me every day and I shall write to you three times every day!" Her breath came like white smoke between her parted lips and she stood valiant and sturdy in the snow—a strong, resolute girl, built like a boy—clean-cut, crystal-pure, and steel-true. A shot sounded and there came to them presently the pungent, acid smell of burnt powder. "And we shall never hurt things or kill them," said G. G. "And every day when I've been good I shall kiss your feet and your hands." "And when I've been good," she said, "you'll smile at me the way you're smiling now—and it won't be necessary to die and go to Heaven to see what the gentlemen angels look like." "But," cried G. G., "whoever heard of going to Heaven? It comes to people. It's here." "And for
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