§ 122
They are ardent mountaineers. They are ascending Mt. Chocorua in New Hampshire. She is afraid herself to go ahead over the rough mountain trail and see the new views as they develop. She needs also his assistance, his hand, to help her over rocks and fallen tree trunks and up steep ascents. She says to him: “You go ahead and I’ll follow. Rush up quickly and tell me what you see.” If he does so, he runs till he is out of breath and then attempts from a cliff he has reached to shout to her, to tell her how to get up to him, to describe the valley of the Swift River of which he has just caught a glimpse. But he is panting so hard he cannot articulate. Why should he have run ahead of her? Indeed he should not have.
It would have been much wiser for him to reply to her invitation to anticipate her: “Why, dearest, I see you are tired. Of course no woman can keep pace with a strong healthy man up these slopes. Let’s sit down and rest a bit.” He would then sit with her on a mossy stone or tree trunk, or take her on his lap, and point out the beauties of the place they were in, and absolutely refuse to leave her. He really does not wish to see the panorama from the peak first, before she does. He is very foolish to believe her when she says she wishes not to see it herself but to hear about it. She may be, consciously, perfectly sincere and really think she doesn’t care about going clear to the top with him this time.
These two are ardent mountain climbers; but there are many couples where the woman has not ever climbed to the top of a mountain who sends her husband on alone; and, poor thing, he goes, not realizing how much better the view is when two are looking at it.