CHAPTER XLIII

n.Ithinkwe’llbuildoneforourselves.Ahouseyoubuildforyourselfissomuchnicerthanahand-me-down.Butwe’llspendoursummersinMistawis.Andourautumnstravelling.IwantyoutoseetheAlhambra—it’sthenearestthingtotheBlueCastleofyourdreamsIcanthinkof.Andthere’sanold-worldgardeninItalywhereIwanttoshowyouthemoonrisingoverRomethroughthedarkcypress-trees.” “WillthatbeanylovelierthanthemoonrisingoverMistawis?” “Notlovelier.Butadifferentkindofloveliness.Therearesomanykindsofloveliness.Valancy,beforethisyearyou’vespentallyourlifeinugliness.Youknownothingofthebeautyoftheworld.We’llclimbmountains—huntfortreasuresinthebazaarsofSamarcand—searchoutthemagicofeastandwest—runhandinhandtotherimoftheworld.Iwanttoshowyouitall—seeitagainthroughyoureyes.Girl,thereareamillionthingsIwanttoshowyou—dowithyou—saytoyou.Itwilltakealifetime.AndwemustseeaboutthatpicturebyTierney,afterall.” “Willyoupromisemeonething?”askedValancysolemnly. “Anything,”saidBarneyrecklessly. “Onlyonething.Youarenever,underanycircumstancesorunderanyprovocation,tocastituptomethatIaskedyoutomarryme.”