I don't know but what I think that yet."
"Silly old doctor-man!" she murmured.
"And now my baby's a woman with all of life before her. From where you
are it seems as if it was never going to end, but when you get where I
am and begin to look back, you see that it's just a little journey over
before you've got used to the road and struck your gait. We ought to
have more time. The first half's just learning and the second's where
we put the learning into practice. And we're busy over that when we
have to go. It's too short."
"Our life's going to be long. Out in California we're going to come
into a sort of second childhood, be perennials like those larkspurs I
had in the garden at home."
They were silent, thinking of the garden behind the old house in
Rochester with walks outlined by shells and edged by long flower beds.
The girl looked back on it with a detached interest as an unregretted
feature of a past existence in which she had once played her part and
that was cut from the present by a chasm never to be bridged. The man
held it cherishingly as one of many lovely memories that stretched from
this river bank in a strange land back through the years, a link in the
long chain.
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