e and
found you missing; and then I thought of this old burrow of yours, and
here, as good luck would have it, I found you.'

I could only gasp out 'Going away?' in a great amazement.

'I must go away,' he said. 'My uncle that was at sea is in London, with
Marjorie, and has sent for me. He needs me, and I am so much beholden to
him that I should have to go, even if I were not bound to him by blood
and duty, and indeed I long to see my Marjorie.'

'How long will you be away?' I gasped.

'I do not know,' he answered; 'but it is only a little world after all,
and we shall meet again some time, and soon, be sure of that. If not,
why, then this parting was well made.'

This last was a quotation from one of his poets and play-makers, as I
found afterwards, for the words stuck in my memory, and I happened on
them later in a printed book. But indeed I did not think the parting was
well made at all, and I shook my head dismally, for I knew he only said
so to cheer me.

He laughed and tossed his brown locks. 'London is not the end of the
world,' he said. 'I hope to go further afield than that before I die.
But near or far, summer or winter, town or country, we are friends for
ever. No distance can divide, no time untie our friendship.'

Here he wrung me by the hand, and I, with this new sorrow on top of the
old--that was new but two hours ago--could only sob and say: 'O
Lancelot!' and tremble. I suppose I looked giddy, as if I were about to
faint, for he caught me in his strong arms and propped me up a minute.

'Come, come!' he said; 'take heart. To-day is not to-morrow yet. I will
go in with you to your mother's and spend an hour with you before I say
good-bye.'

Then he gently led me by the arm, and we went into the town and along
the evening streets till we came to the little shop, and there at the
door we found my mother, looking anxious.

Lancelot made my excuses, saying that he had kept me, and telling my
mother of his speedy departure. My mother, who loved Lancelot, was
almost as grieved as I. But he, in his bright way, cheered us; he came
in, and would take supper with us; and though it was a doleful meal, he
went on as if it were a merry one, talking and laughing, and telling us
tales of the great city and its wonders, and all he hoped to see and do
there.

And so a sad hour went by, and then he rose and said he must go and give
a hand to the packing of his belongings, for he was leaving by the early
coach