I shall have samples of
grain in bags, and you will have a basket of butter and cream. It will
be an ideal life. We shall dine at the ordinary, and, after dinner,
over a pipe and a glass of grog, I shall discuss the weather and the
crops. And while we live in this retreat of ours, over here the very
name of Harry Norland will have been forgotten. Queer, that! We shall
go on living long after we are dead and buried and forgotten. In the
novels the man turns up after he is supposed to be cast
away--wrecked--drowned--dead long ago. But he never turns up when he is
forgotten--unless he is Rip Van Winkle. By Gad, Iris! when we are old
people we will go home and see the old places together. It will be
something to look forward to--something to live for--eh?"
"I feel quite happy this evening, Iris; happier than I have been for
months. The fact is, this infernal place has hipped us both
confoundedly. I didn't like to grumble, but I've felt the monotony more
than a bit. And so have you. It's made you brood over things. Now, for
my part, I like to look at the bright side. Here we are comfortably cut
off from the past. That's all done with. Nothing in the world can
revive the memory of disagreeable things if we are only true to
ourselves and agree to forget them.
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