‘Oh, Jack!’ she said, ‘how will you bear going away? Always think of me just here under the old pear-tree. Look how it is coming out like a great white tower of blossoms. I shall come here and think of you; and that will keep us near to each other. And, Jack----’ ‘Yes, Elly?’ ‘If you should feel lonely or anything--if you should miss home very much--oh, just think! I’ll come and do my algebra here, and think of you. It will be always something--not like your grandmother, but always something--a little bit of a home just here under the pear-tree.’ ‘Elly,’ said John, ‘will you do one thing for me? There is nobody but you that I would ask.’ ‘Yes, I will, Jack; half-a-dozen. Tell me what it is.’ ‘There are the two old chairs by the fire. They will be sold like all the rest. I’ve money enough to buy them, but nowhere to put them. Oh, Elly!’ ‘They shall stand in my own room. I’ll always keep them there,’ said Elly, with enthusiasm, ‘the two dear old chairs! Oh! yes, yes, Jack; in my own room.’ ‘Thanks, awfully,’ said John. He grasped the little, warm hand she had put into his, and they stood for a moment holding each other, like two children, by the hand. ‘Oh, Jack! this is dreadfully like good-bye now!’ ‘It is good-bye. Elly, you give the boys a kiss when they go away. Won’t you give me one too? Oh, not if you don’t like; it’s only because it seems cold, just shaking hands, after what you have said.’ There was no blush on John’s simple face. He meant in absolute sincerity what he said. The girl reddened, being, perhaps, a little more advanced in life, though a year younger than the boy. She turned away her head for the moment, but then turned to him again with a steady look, and suddenly inclined her head towards him. ‘Yes, Jack; it will be like being brother and sister really, and for good.’ ‘For good,’ he repeated, touching her fresh cheek with honest, tender lips; and then they went back sedately to the house, very quiet, with a certain awe upon them. For it is a ceremonial, and a sad one, to say that first good-bye. END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. LONDON: PRINTED BY DUNCAN MACDONALD, BLENHEIM HOUSE. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Son of His Father; vol. 1/3, by Margaret Oliphant