"
"An' how long may it be to th' New Year, mother?"
"A bit more than a month, but 'tis not certain he'll be comin' then."
"'Tis a long while t' wait--a _terrible_ long while t' be waitin'--t'
th' New Year."
"Not so long, Emily. Th' time'll be slippin' by before we knows. But
don't be countin' on his comin' th' New Year, for 'tis a rare long
cruise t' th' Big Hill trail an' he may be waitin' till th' break-up.
But I'm thinkin' my lad'll be wantin' t' see how th' little maid
is,--an' see his mother--an' mayhap be takin' th' cruise."
"An Bob knew how lonesome we were--how _wonderful_ lonesome we
were--he'd be comin' at th' New Year sure. An' he'll be gettin'
lonesome hisself. He must be gettin' _dreadful_ lonesome away off in
th' bush this long time! He'll _sure_ be comin' at th' New Year!"
After this Emily began to keep account of the days as they passed. She
had her mother reckon for her the actual number until New Year's Eve,
and each morning she would say, "only so many days now an' Bob'll be
comin' home." Her mother warned her that it was not at all certain he
would come then--only a hope. But it grew to be a settled fact for
Emily, and a part of her daily life, to expect and plan for the happy
time when she should see him.
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