I
promised! And even now I don't regret my promise nor complain of my
father's tenacity. I feel, somehow, as if the seeds of ultimate repose
had been sown in those unsuspecting years--as if after many days I might
gather the mellow fruit. But after many days! I will keep my promise, I
will obey; but I want to _live_ first!"
"My dear fellow, you are living now. All this passionate consciousness
of your situation is a very ardent life. I wish I could say as much for
my own."
"I want to forget my situation. I want to spend three months without
thinking of the past or the future, grasping whatever the present offers
me. Yesterday I thought I was in a fair way to sail with the tide. But
this morning comes this memento!" And he held up his letter again.
"What is it?"
"A letter from Smyrna."
"I see you have not yet broken the seal."
"No; nor do I mean to, for the present. It contains bad news."
"What do you call bad news?"
"News that I am expected in Smyrna in three weeks. News that Mr. Vernor
disapproves of my roving about the world. News that his daughter is
standing expectant at the altar."
"Is not this pure conjecture?"
"Conjecture, possibly, but safe conjecture. As soon as I looked at the
letter something smote me at the heart.
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