"In the years to come thy memory will shine like a star over my lonely life, as that last story we read together says.

Diana, wilt thou give me a lock of thy jet-black tresses in parting to treasure forevermore ?" "Have you got anything to cut it with ?" queried Diana, wiping away the tears which Anne's affecting accents had caused to flow afresh, and returning to practicalities.
"Yes.

I've got my patchwork scissors in my apron pocket fortunately," said Anne.

She solemnly clipped one of Diana's curls.

"Fare thee well, my beloved friend.