because you never come to me. I can’t help it, for the days are so long, and I don’t mind about the goats and kids, or anything—and I can’t—”
The sobs came fast now, and the great tears. Tito felt that he could not do otherwise than comfort her. Send her away—yes; that he must do, at once. But it was all the more impossible to tell her anything that would leave her in a state of hopeless grief. He saw new trouble in the background, but the difficulty of the moment was too pressing for him to weigh distant consequences.
“Tessa, my little one,” he said, in his old caressing tones, “you must not cry. Bear with the cross patrigno a little longer. I will come back to you. But I’m going now to Rome—a long, long way off. I shall come back in a few weeks, and then I promise you to come and see you. Promise me to be good and wait for me.”
It was the well-remembered voice again, and the mere sound was half enough to soothe Tessa. She looked up at him with trusting eyes, that still glittered with tears, sobbing all the while, in spite of her utmost efforts to obey him. Again he said, in a gentle voice—
“Promise me, my Tessa.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “But you won’t be long?”
“No, not long. But I must go now . And remember what I told you, Tessa. Nobody must know that you ever see me, else you will lose me forever. And now, when I have left you, go straight home, and never follow me again. Wait till I come to you. Goodbye, my little Tessa: I will come.”
There was no help for it; he must turn and leave her without looking behind him to see how she bore it, for he had no time to spare.