rld?" Jenny said. "Rather!"

They kissed passionately, carried away by their excitement, brimming
with joy at their agreement in feeling and desire. The cabin seemed to
expand into the virgin forest and the open plain. A new vision of life
was opened to Jenny. Exultingly she pictured the future, bright, active,
occupied--away from all the old cramping things. It was the life she had
dreamed, away from men, away from stuffy rooms and endless millinery,
away from regular hours and tedious meals, away from all that now made
up her daily dullness. It was splendid! Her quick mind was at work,
seeing, arranging, imagining as warm as life the changed days that would
come in such a terrestrial Paradise. And then Keith, watching with
triumph the mounting joy in her expression, saw the joy subside, the
brilliance fade, the eagerness give place to doubt and then to dismay.

"What is it?" he begged. "Jenny, dear!"

"It's Pa!" Jenny said. "I couldn't leave him ... not for anything!"

"Is that all? We'll take him with us!" cried Keith. Jenny sorrowfully
shook her head.

"No. He's paralysed," she explained, and sighed deeply at the faded
vision.

iii

"Well, I'm not going to give up the idea for that," Keith resumed, after
a moment. Jenny shook her head, and a wry smile stole into her face,
making it appear thinner than before.

"I didn't expect you would," she said quietly. "It's me that has to give
it up."

"Jenny!" He was astonished by her tone. "D'you think I meant that?
Never! We'll manage something. Something can be done. When I come
back ..."

"Ah, you're going away!" Jenny cried in agony. "I shan't see you. I
shall have every day to think of ... day after day. And you won't write.
And I shan't see you...." She held him to her, her breast against his,
desperate with the dread of being separated from him. "It's easy for
you, at sea, with the wind and the sun; and something fresh to see, and
something happening all the time. But me--in a dark room, poring over
bits of straw and velvet to make hats for soppy women, and then going
home to old Em and stew for dinner. There's not much fun in it,
Keith.... No, I didn't mean to worry you by grizzling. It's too bad of
me! But seeing you, and hearing that plan, it's made me remember how
beastly I felt before your letter came this evening. I was nearly mad
with it. I'd been mad before; but never as bad as this was. And then
your letter came--and I wanted to come to you; and