“No Agnes Kennedy? Do you think I am going to die young?” Agnes’s voice was awe-stricken. “No, but I may hear that you have changed your name.” “Oh, is that all? You scared me, Archie.” “And though ye care naught for any other lad, you’ll no be giving me that promise to wait for me? If ye would but do that, Agnes, I would go away a happier lad.” “I cannot make that promise.” He was still holding her hands, but now she drew them away. “Suppose you should forget me, Archie, and should like another girl better than me, I would be sitting here sorrowing for you and you would never come, or suppose I should see some one I liked better, then it would be a grief to us both, for I should hold to my promise and I should be false in doing it.” Archie looked at her wonderingly. “How wise a lass is,” he sighed, “so much wiser than lads are about such things. Then will you make this promise? If neither you nor I shall see another that shall be liked better, we will wed each other when I come back to you?” Agnes considered this for some time before she answered, “Yes, I think that is not too much to promise, for we are then both free to do as we choose, and if it makes you any happier for me to say it, Archie, I will say it.” Archie’s face brightened. “My dear lassie, you do not know what dreams I shall have of this last evening.” Agnes shook her head. “You will always be dreaming, Archie, of one thing or another.” He smiled and took her hands in his again. “Will you take the half of a broken sixpence, Agnes, as a token?” “It is what they do in story-books, isn’t it?” “Yes, and it is a sign between lovers.” “And are we lovers?” Agnes asked the question most innocently, and Archie gave a little sigh. “We will be lovers when I see you again,” he replied. “And will you write to me sometimes, Agnes, and will you keep the half sixpence? I have it here.” He produced the bits of broken coin from his leathern pouch and gave her one of the pieces. “I will keep it.” “And you will not forget your promise? Say it again, Agnes.” “What shall I say?” “If I see no one I like better than you, Archie M’Clean, before you come to claim me, I will be your wife.” Agnes hesitated. “It sounds so solemn.” “But you promised.” “So I did. I will say it.” And she repeated the words with due seriousness. “And when I see you again, Agnes Kennedy, I will claim you for my wife, and I will promise to be a true and loving husband.” “Oh, but you didn’t say anything about the other girl that you may like better!” Agnes exclaimed. “There will be no other,” returned Archie. “All the same you must say it just as I did, or I shall not be satisfied.” And Archie was compelled to make the concession. “You wouldn’t--you wouldn’t kiss me good-by, I suppose,” said Archie, awkwardly. Agnes shook her head. “But I may kiss your cheek?”