Cobb knew this, and reproached himself many times for causing her affectionate heart to entertain the hope that she would sometime be his wife. It had come by degrees, unseen by either, until each had felt that the brightness of the world was centered in the other. He could not marry her; this he knew, for she was too young. He could not wait until she had bloomed into the magnificent woman that he knew nature had destined her to become, for he would then be dead to the world. He could not tell her the truth! He did what thousands of others have done--he temporized. "Marie," and he took both of her hands in his, and looked long and lovingly into her eyes; "Marie, you are not a child, you are a woman. You are far beyond your years. What I tell you to-night will cause you pain, but it must be said." "O, Mr. Cobb!" she cried, and the tears flooded her eyes; "are you going to tell me that I am no longer your little Marie! that an--an--another is going to take you away from your little girl?" and she buried her head in his hands and cried piteously. "No, Marie, not that!" he quickly returned. "But I am going to leave you; am going far away; I may never return!" "And you will meet other and beautiful women, and will forget your Marie!" she said, still sobbing. "No! darling little Marie! Will it give you pleasure if I tell you that I swear to be true to you--to wait until you have grown to womanhood? that I will marry no other woman living but you?" and he stroked her beautiful hair and raised her face to his. "If you swear this, you do love me!" she cried through her tears; then, brightening up, she threw her arms about him, and murmured: "Though it will grieve me to the heart to see you leave me, yet your promise will ever tend to dull the sorrow of your absence, and will be a beacon light for me to look forward to. A few years, and you will come and claim me, will you not, Junius?" and as the words left her lips, she blushed and dropped her eyes from before his gaze. Somehow, she had never before used his first name. It seemed to her that he was too far above her, too much older, for such a liberty on her part. And how had their love ripened, these two of years so wide apart? Simply and easily enough. In one of his loving moods, Junius Cobb, in kissing her good-night, had said: "Marie, I will wait until you grow up, and marry you!" "Will you?" she had replied, laughing, yet earnestly. "Then, I accept you, Mr. Cobb, and will grow just as fast as I can." Very simple, and very easy. "Marie, little darling," and Cobb's voice was sad and low, "to-night I go far away. To-night we must part; but my sacred promise I give you, my girl darling, that when I return, you shall be my wife, _if living_."