“Yes, yes, my little girl, I think he’ll come.” “Then write, write, father--quick. Don’ let it be too late. I wan’ so bad to look at him once more!” He came--oh yes, he came! mad with regret and remorse, repentant, eager to atone. “Where is she? where is she?” he asked as he threw down his hat upon the hall table, and jerked off his spurs, that their jingling might not disturb her. If he had only known the music that they made to her ears! “She’s in yo’ room, sur. They tells me ez how ’twar her fancy to be took thar,” said Herrick, simply. “I hope ez you don’ min’, sur.” Mind! Jack’s eyes were hot with the saddest tears of all his life. He went in softly. There she lay, pathetic, fragile as some long-ill child upon his narrow bed. He went and stooped over her, taking into one of his brown hands her restless, slender fingers. Her gentle look rested unknowingly upon him. “Ain’t they goin’ ter sen’ fur Mr. Jack?” she said. “I think he’ll come--now; father thought ez how he would. Please write it down that I saved Bonnibel--please write that down. ’Twas mighty hot, but I saved her. Oh, don’ yo’ think he’ll come?--don’ yo’ think he’ll come? I don’ even arst him to speak to me. Ef he’ll only stand in th’ door so ez I kin see him when I go.” “Virginia--Virginia,” said Roden, brokenly. “My dear little girl, don’t you know me? Here I am!--here--at your side. Don’t you feel my hands, Virginia? Don’t you know me?” She went rambling on. “I wonder ef he would furgive me ef he knew? I wisht Bonnibel could tell him--I wisht I was Bonnibel!” with a little rippling laugh infinitely pathetic. “Oh, wouldn’ I kyar him pretty an’ straight at his fences, an’ win ev’y race fur him!” Her eyes opened vague and sorrowful again upon Roden’s pale face. “Oh,” she said, with a long sighing breath, “don’t you think he’ll come? Write to him ’bout Bonnibel--please write that ter him.” “Virginia, look at me--look at me,” said the young man, half lifting her in his arms. “Dear little Virginia, here I am. I forgive you with all my heart and soul, Virginia. Oh, please look at me, please remember me.” “Who says ‘furgive?’” she said, with her restless, eager eyes searching the room as if for something long expected--“who says ‘furgive?’” “I do, I do,” Roden said, weeping at last like any girl. “I forgive you, Virginia--Virginia. You _shall_ know me!” Her eyes fixed themselves upon his face, first vacantly, then with a wonder-stricken radiance. “Mr. Jack,” she said, under her breath, “did they tell yo’? I saved her; that’s all. Yo’ needn’ say nothin’; I jess wanted to look at yo’. I saved her. ’Twas awful hot. I kin hear it roarin’ now. She come to me; she wouldn’ come to nobody else.” “Virginia,” said Roden, “listen to me; stop talking. What do I care about Bonnibel? Child, do you want to break my heart? Listen, Virginia; I forgive you--I _forgive you_.”