"If there is ever anything that I can do to make it easier, let me know, and I'll come.
Promise me now.

You'll let me know." "I--I promise," she answered, faltering over the sob that rose in her throat as she tried to speak, but smiling bravely up at him.
With one more hand-clasp that spoke sympathy and understanding even more than his words had done, and somehow left her with a sense of being comforted and protected, he went away.

But half way down the aisle he turned and dashed back, drawing a little package from his pocket as he came.
"Something to read on the way," he explained.

"Wait till you get to that lonesome stretch of desert," Then with a smile that she carried in her memory for years, he said once more, "Good-bye, little Vicar! Remember, I'll come!" He swung down the steps at the front end of the car just as the train started, and through the open window she had one more glimpse of him, as he stood there lifting his hat.

Farther back, at the station gate Joyce waited with her arm linked in Henrietta's, for the moment when Mary's last glance should be turned to seek her.