'And I'd do anything in the world to get you. And I'd do anything in
the world for you, too. And if you cared for me I'd go away all the
same. At least, I believe I should...We shall be there in a minute.

'Listen, dear. I want you, occasionally, to write to me; there's no
earthly reason why you shouldn't. I'll let you know my address. It will
prevent my being too miserable, or rushing back. And will you do
something else for me?'

'Anything.'

'Angel! Well, when you write, call me Aylmer. You never have yet, in a
letter. Treat me just like a friend--as you treat Vincy. Tell me what
you're doing, where you're going, who you see; about Archie and Dilly;
about your new dresses and hats; what you're reading--any little thing,
so that I'm still in touch with you.'

'Yes, I will; I shall like to. And don't be depressed, Aylmer. Do enjoy
your journey; write to me, too.'

'Yes, I'm going to write to you, but only in an official way, only for
Bruce. And, listen. Take care of yourself. You're too unselfish. Do
what you want sometimes, not what other people want all the time. Don't
read too much by electric light and try your eyes. And don't go out in
these thin shoes in damp weather--promise!'

She laughed a little--touched.

'Be a great deal with the children. I like to think of you with them.
And I hope you won't be always going out,' he continued, in a tone of