There were tears in her eyes, and even as I watched one fell down each cheek, But we had reached the old green seat on which we sat, she still holding my hand quite tight. There was a murmur of bees on the summer air. I looked at the letter and of course I knew the handwriting. I received a letter just like that with an exciting Indian stamp every week on Saturday.
"Son, do you want to go to India?"
"Yes, I cried: and then noting the pain on the old lady's face I flung my arms round her and shouted She caught me to her. "You are going tomorrow morning."
It was just like that. To-morrow morning! One period in my life would end, and one entirely different one would begin. The old lady seemed to recede very far away from me, but I could see her on the bench, turning over the leaves of the letter as she read, and referring back sometimes to be sure that she understood. I turned away from her sick at heart.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.