The mountain was going with them; its inscrutable mass, off to the left,
still followed, a protection and a reminder. What a boyish fancy of his,
that it mothered him! Well, it could safely leave the task to her, Jane
reflected; he was worth mothering--her first child.... A sudden freshet
of tenderness lifted her arm around his shoulder.
This station they had just left--to think that its scattered home-lights
held striving hearts who had followed her Pelham through the harsh
campaign, and looked to him as children to their leader. And now he was
hers, hers! And she would see to it that she kept him theirs.
Hers ... as she must be his. She dared to inch her fancies beyond their
previous bounds. As a modern woman, she reminded herself, she knew from
her reading the essential facts of mated life; but feelings were of
different breed: words could not communicate unfelt emotions, they could
only evoke memories of those formerly experienced. The emotional
Atlantic lay before her.... To-night? She could not tell.