Chapter XXIX. The Solace Of Travel: The Boats Of The Sea

           

           Totheuntravelled,territoryotherthantheirownfamiliarheathisinvariablyfascinating.Nexttolove,itistheonethingwhichsolacesanddelights.Thingsnewaretooimportanttobeneglected,andmind,whichisamerereflectionofsensoryimpressions,succumbstothefloodofobjects.Thusloversareforgotten,sorrowslaidaside,deathhiddenfromview.Thereisaworldofaccumulatedfeelingbackofthetritedramaticexpression—“Iamgoingaway.”

           AsCarrielookedoutupontheflyingsceneryshealmostforgotthatshehadbeentrickedintothislongjourneyagainstherwillandthatshewaswithoutthenecessaryapparelfortravelling.ShequiteforgotHurstwood’spresenceattimes,andlookedawaytohomelyfarmhousesandcoseycottagesinvillageswithwonderingeyes.Itwasaninterestingworldtoher.Herlifehadjustbegun.Shedidnotfeelherselfdefeatedatall.Neitherwassheblastedinhope.Thegreatcityheldmuch.Possiblyshewouldcomeoutofbondageintofreedom—whoknows?Perhapsshewouldbehappy.Thesethoughtsraisedherabovetheleveloferring.Shewassavedinthatshewashopeful.

           ThefollowingmorningthetrainpulledsafelyintoMontrealandtheysteppeddown,Hurstwoodgladtobeoutofdanger,Carriewonderingatthenovelatmosphereofthenortherncity.Longbefore,Hurstwoodhadbeenhere,andnowherememberedthenameofthehotelatwhichhehadstopped.Astheycameoutofthemainentranceofthedepothehearditcalledanewbyabusman.

           “We’llgorightupandgetrooms,”hesaid.

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