“What way d’you want to get married?” Jenny asked.
“I want to marry you. Any old way. And I want to take you to the other end of the world—where there aren’t any laws and neighbours and rates and duties and politicians and imitations of life.... And I want to set you down on virgin soil and make a real life for you. In Labrador or Alaska ...” He glowed with enthusiasm. Jenny glowed too, infected by his enthusiasm.
“Sounds fine!” she said. Keith exclaimed eagerly. He was alive with joy at her welcome.
“Would you come?” he cried. “Really?”
“To the end of the world?” 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.