Instead of
being the end, that New Year's Day was but the beginning--the
beginning of their real romance. All the fine, virile, masculine
energy of him was aroused and rampant. All her sweet, strong
womanliness had been suddenly deepened and broadened. In fine, he
had become a man, and she woman. Youth, life, and the love of man
and woman, the strength of the hills, the depth of the ocean, and
the beauty of the sky at sunset; that was what the New Year had
brought to them.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"It's good-by, dear, isn't it?" said Blix.
But Condy would not have it so.
"No, no," he told her; "no, Blix; no matter how often we separate
after this wonderful New Year's Day, no matter how far we are
apart, WE two shall never, never say good-by."
"Oh, you're right, you're right!" she answered, the tears
beginning to shine in her little dark-brown eyes. "No; so long as
we love each other, nothing matters. There's no such thing as
distance for us, is there? Just think, you will be here on the
shores of the Pacific, and I on the shores of the Atlantic, but
the whole continent can't come between US."
"And we'll be together again, Blix," he said; "and it won't be
very long now. Just give me time--a few years now."
"But so long as we love each other, TIME won't matter either."
"What are the tears for, Blixy?" he asked, pressing his
handkerchief to her cheek.
"Because this is the saddest and happiest day of my life," she
answered.
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