“There, there, Willie,” Mrs. Baxter said.  “You’re all wrought up—­”

“I am not wrought up!” shouted William.  “Why should I be charged with—­”

“Now, now!” she said.  “You’ll feel better to-morrow.”

“What do you mean by that?” he demanded, breathing deeply.

For reply she only shook her head in an odd little way, and in her parting look at him there was something at once compassionate, amused, and reassuring.

“You’ll be all right, Willie,” she said, softly, and closed the door.

Alone, William lifted clenched hands in a series of tumultuous gestures at the ceiling; then he moaned and sank into a chair at his writing-table.  Presently a comparative calm was restored to him, and with reverent fingers he took from a drawer a one-pound box of candy, covered with white tissue-paper, girdled with blue ribbon.  He set the box gently beside him upon the table; then from beneath a large, green blotter drew forth some scribbled sheets.  These he placed before him, and, taking infinite pains with his handwriting, slowly copied: 

Dear Lola—­I presume when you are reading these lines it will be this afternoon and you will be on the train moving rapidly away from this old place here farther and farther from it all.  As I sit here at my old desk and look back upon it all while I am writing this farewell letter I hope when you are reading it you also will look back upon it all and think of one you called (Alias) Little Boy Baxter.  As I sit here this morning that you are going away at last I look back and I cannot rember any summer in my whole life which has been like this summer, because a great change has come over me this summer.  If you would like to know what this means it was something like I said when John Watson got there yesterday afternoon and interrupted what I said.  May you enjoy this candy and think of the giver.  I will put something in with this letter.  It is something maybe you would like to have and in exchange I would give all I possess for one of you if you would send it to me when you get home.  Please do this for now my heart is braking.  Yours sincerely, William S. Baxter (Alias) little boy Baxter.

William opened the box of candy and placed the letter upon the top layer of chocolates.  Upon the letter he placed a small photograph (wrapped in tissue-paper) of himself.  Then, with a pair of scissors, he trimmed an oblong of white cardboard to fit into the box.  Upon this piece of cardboard he laboriously wrote, copying from a tortured, inky sheet before him: 

     In dream
     by William S. Baxter

     The sunset light
     Fades into night
     But never will I forget
     The smile that haunts me yet
     Through the future four long years
     I hope you will remember with tears
     Whate’er my rank or station
     Whilst receiving my education
     Though far away you seem
     I will see thee in dream.