The Last Spike - Cy Warman - Bog

"Five years!" she gasped, as she lost herself in a big chair. "He is to have time to forget you, and you are to have ample opportunity to forget him, which you will doubtless do, for you are not to meet or communicate with each other during this period of probation." "Did he promise this?" "Upon his honor." "And if he break that promise?" "Ah, then he would be without honor, and you would not marry him." A moment's silence followed, broken by a long, deep sigh that ended in little quivering waves, like the faint ripples that reach the shore, -the whispered echoes of the sobbing sea. "O father, it is cruel! cruel! cruel!" she cried, raising a tearful face to him. "It is justice, stern justice; to you, my dear, to myself, and this fine young fellow who has stolen your heart. Let him show himself worthy of you, and you have my blessing and my fortune.