She stood by the table; the box was
on it, and I knew well that the red rose and the message were
within. But there was more to-day. Without preface she broke into
the subject of my errand.
"I must write to him," she said. "I can't bear it, I must write.
My dear friend Fritz, you will carry it safely for me, won't you?
And he must write to me. And you'll bring that safely, won't you?
Ah, Fritz, I know I'm wrong, but I'm starved, starved, starved!
And it's for the last time. For I know now that if I send
anything, I must send more. So after this time I won't send at
all. But I must say good-by to him; I must have his good-by to
carry me through my life. This once, then, Fritz, do it for me."
The tears rolled down her cheeks, which to-day were flushed out
of their paleness to a stormy red; her eyes defied me even while
they pleaded. I bent my head and kissed her hand.
"With God's help I'll carry it safely and bring his safely, my
queen," said I.
"And tell me how he looks. Look at him closely, Fritz. See if he
is well and seems strong. Oh, and make him merry and happy! Bring
that smile to his lips, Fritz, and the merry twinkle to his eyes.
When you speak of me, see if he--if he looks as if he still loved
me.
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