Days passed happily along, and the two weeks allotted for Louis' stay
came nearly to a close. I dreaded to have the last day appear. Like his
mother, he had dropped into his own appropriate niche, and came into our
family only as another ray of the sunshine that brightened our home. I
had Halbert in my mind much of the time, and talked of him to Louis
until he said he felt well acquainted with him, and looked forward to
meeting him as one looks to some happiness in store.

Louis was original in his expressions and different from all others of
his age. One evening when we were talking of Hal, as we sat on the old
doorstone in the moonlight, he said:

"I have something to do for your brother, Miss Emily, I cannot tell you
how, but we shall see, we shall never lose sight of each other, we are
always to be friends, Miss Emily."

And the light of his dark eyes grew deep and it seemed as if I looked
into fathomless depths as he turned them full upon me for a moment.

"Only a few hours between this long breath I am taking and the school to
which I go (mother has written the professor, asking if I can stay
longer--we shall have an answer to-morrow). It is doing me good, my
mind goes over the country round us here, and I am gathering long
breaths that give my mind and body strength. Ah! Miss Emily," he said,
as he rose and walked to and fro, "I shall sometime breathe and act as I
want to. I pray every day that my little mother may live to see me doing
what I desire to do, and, also, for strength. I need great strength,
Miss Emily. You will help to keep little mother alive, I know you will."