Part 23 (2/2)

A WEDDING JOURNEY (_continued_)

Through the golden suns.h.i.+ne and beneath the blue sky, they went on the next day, until with a nod she chose her place to stop for lunch, until with another nod, as the sun was getting low, she chose her place to stop for the night. This time they did not ask to know even the name of the village. It was his suggestion.

”Because,” he explained, ”that makes it seem as if we were trying to get somewhere. And we are n't, are we?”

”Wherever we are, we are,” she nodded gayly.

”It is n't even important that we get to etois,” he insisted.

”Not in the slightest,” she agreed. ”Only, if we keep on going we'll get to the sea, won't we?”

”Then we can either skirt the sh.o.r.e or take a boat and cross the sea.

It's all one.”

”All one! You make me feel as if I had wings.”

”Then you're happy?”

”Very, very happy, Monte. And you?”

”Yes,” he answered abruptly.

She had no reason to doubt it. That night, as she sat alone in her room, she reviewed this day in order to satisfy herself on this point; for she felt a certain obligation. He had given to her so generously that the least she in her turn could do was to make sure that he was comfortable and content. That, all his life, was the most he had asked for. It was the most he asked for now. He must wake each morning free of worries, come down to a good breakfast and find his coffee hot, have a pleasant time of it during the day without being bored, and end with a roast and salad and later a good bed. These were simple desires--thoroughly wholesome, normal desires. With the means at his command, with the freedom from restraint that had been his ever since he left college, it was a great deal to his credit that he had been able to retain such modest tastes. He had been at liberty to choose what he wished, and he had chosen decently.

This morning she had come down early and looked to his coffee herself.

It was a slight thing, but she had awakened with a desire to do something positive and personal for him. She had been satisfied when he exclaimed, without knowing the part she played in it:--

”This coffee is bully!”

It had started the day right and given her a lightness of spirit that was reflected in her talk and even in her smiles. She had smiled from within. She was quite sure that the day had been a success, and that so far, at any rate, Monte had not been either bored or worried.

Sitting there in the dark, she felt strangely elated over the fact.

She had been able to send her fairy prince to his sleep contented. It gave her a motherly feeling of a task well done. After all, Monte was scarcely more than a boy.

Her thoughts went back to the phrase he had used at the end of the day's journey.

”We aren't getting anywhere, are we?” he had asked.

At the moment she had not thought he meant anything more than he said.

He seldom did. It was restful to know that she need never look for hidden meanings in his chance remarks. He meant only that there was no haste; that it made no difference when they reached this town or that.

They had no destination.

That was true, and yet the thought disturbed her a trifle. It did not seem quite right for Monte to have no destination. He was worth something more than merely to revolve in a circle. He should have a Holy Grail. Give him something to fight for, and he would fight hard.

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