“Well, my mother will soon call to see you; and, meantime, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll write⁠—just any cheerful nonsense that comes into my head⁠—shall I?”

“Good, gallant heart!” thought I to myself; but I shook my head, smiling, and said, “Never think of it: impose on yourself no such task. You write to me !⁠—you’ll not have time.”

“Oh! I will find or make time. Goodbye!”

He was gone. The heavy door crashed to: the axe had fallen⁠—the pang was experienced.