"No, Christobel," he said. "No, my Belovèd. I could not accept happiness--even _such_ happiness--at so great a cost to you. There could be no bliss for you, no peace, no satisfaction, even in our great love, if you had gone against your supreme sense of duty; your own high conception of right and wrong. Also, Christobel, dearest--you must not give yourself in a rush of emotion. You must give yourself deliberately where your mind has chosen, and where your great soul is content. That being so, I must be off, Christobel; and don't you worry about me. You've been heavenly good to me, dear; and I've put you through so much. I will go up to town to-night. I shall not come back, unless you send for me. But when you want me and send--why, my Love, I will come from the other end of the world." He stooped and took both her hands in his; lifted them reverently, tenderly, to his lips; held them there one moment, then laid them back upon her lap, and turned away. She saw him walk down the moonlit lawn, tall and erect. She saw him pass through the gate, without looking back. She heard it close quietly--not with the old boyish bang--yet close irrevocably, decisively. Then she shut her eyes, and began again to rock gently to and fro. Little Boy Blue was still in her arms; it comforted her to rock him there. But the man who had arisen and left her, when he might, taking advantage of her weakness, have won her against her own conscience and will; the man who, mastering his own agony, had thus been brave and strong for her--had carried her whole heart with him, when he went out through the postern gate. In rising, he left the Boy in her arms. Through the long hard years to come, she prayed she might keep him there--her own Little Boy Blue. But he who went out alone, for her sake to face life without her, was _the man she loved_. She knew it, at last. * * * * * "_And the evening and the morning were the fifth day_." * * * * * THE SIXTH DAY MISS ANN HAS "MUCH TO SAY" On the afternoon of the sixth day, at the hour which had hitherto been kept for the Boy, Christobel Charteris, in response to another urgent and immediate summons, went to take tea with Miss Ann. It had been a long, dull, uneventful day, holding at first a certain amount of restless uncertainty as to whether the Boy was really gone; mingled with apprehensive anticipation of a call from the Professor. But before noon a reply-paid telegram arrived from the Boy, sent off at Charing Cross. "_Good morning. All's well. Just off for Folkestone. Please tell me how you are._" To which, while Jenkins and the telegraph-boy waited, Miss Charteris replied: "_Quite well, thank you. Do be careful at Folkestone._"