"No," she said; "I shall see you off." "Indeed you will not.

It will be almost night when I leave this, and the frost is like iron." "Neither the night nor the frost will kill me.

Do you think I will not give you your last breakfast?
God bless you, dear." And on the following morning she did give him his breakfast by candle-light, and went down with him to the station.

The morning was black, and the frost was, as he had said, as hard as iron, but she was thoroughly good-humoured, and apparently happy.

"It has been so much to me to have you here, that I might tell you everything," she said.