"Only for a season," answered the other. "We mourn our dead. Then light comes again, stronger and brighter than ever. Perhaps you'll be crying for me, Lizzie, at that distant day." "Oh, Jack, didn't you promise not to talk about that?" says Lizzie, threatening to anticipate the performance in question. Jack took this rebuke in silence, gazing soberly at the empty sky. Soon the young girl's eyes stole up to his face. If he had been looking at anything in particular, I think she would have followed the direction of his glance; but as it seemed to be a very vacant one, she let her eyes rest. "Jack," said she, after a pause, "I wonder how you'll look when you get back." Ford's soberness gave way to a laugh. "Uglier than ever. I shall be all incrusted with mud and gore. And then I shall be magnificently sun-burnt, and I shall have a beard." "Oh, you dreadful!" and Lizzie gave a little shout. "Really, Jack, if you have a beard, you'll not look like a gentleman." "Shall I look like a lady, pray?" says Jack. "Are you serious?" asked Lizzie. "To be sure. I mean to alter my face as you do your misfitting garments,--take in on one side and let out on the other. Isn't that the process? I shall crop my head and cultivate my chin." "You've a very nice chin, my dear, and I think it's a shame to hide it." "Yes, I know my chin's handsome; but wait till you see my beard." "Oh, the vanity!" cried Lizzie, "the vanity of men in their faces! Talk of women!" and the silly creature looked up at her lover with most inconsistent satisfaction. "Oh, the pride of women in their husbands!" said Jack, who of course knew what she was about. "You're not my husband, Sir. There's many a slip"----But the young girl stopped short. "'Twixt the cup and the lip," said Jack. "Go on. I can match your proverb with another. 'There's many a true word,' and so forth. No, my darling: I'm not your husband. Perhaps I never shall be. But if anything happens to me, you'll take comfort, won't you?" "Never!" said Lizzie, tremulously. "Oh, but you must; otherwise, Lizzie, I should think our engagement inexcusable. Stuff! who am I that you should cry for me?" "You are the best and wisest of men. I don't care; you _are_." "Thank you for your great love, my dear. That's a delightful illusion. But I hope Time will kill it, in his own good way, before it hurts any one. I know so many men who are worth infinitely more than I--men wise, generous, and brave--that I shall not feel as if I were leaving you in an empty world." "Oh, my dear friend!" said Lizzie, after a pause, "I wish you could advise me all my life."