No More Learning

'

Steps were heard outside the door at the end of a passage. Mary Carton
went to the door and called. The steps turned and came nearer. With a
great effort Sherman controlled himself. The door opened, and a tall,
slight girl of twelve came into the room. A strong smell of garden
mould rose from a basket in her hands, Sherman recognized the child who
had given him tea that evening in the schoolhouse three years before.

'Have you finished weeding the carrots? ' said Mary Carton.

'Yes, Miss. '

'Then you are to weed the small bed under the pear-tree by the
tool-house. Do not go yet, child. This is Mr. Sherman. Sit down a
little. '

The child sat down on the corner of a chair with a scared look in her
eyes.
Suddenly she said--

'Oh, what a lot of burnt paper! '

'Yes; I have been burning some old letters. '

'I think,' said John, 'I will go now. ' Without a word of farewell he
went out, almost groping his way.

He had lost the best of all the things he held dear. Twice he had gone
through the fire. The first time worldly ambition left him; the second,
love. An hour before the air had been full of singing and peace that
was resonant like joy. Now he saw standing before his Eden the angel
with the flaming sword. All the hope he had ever gathered about him had
taken itself off, and the naked soul shivered.


IV

The road under his feet felt gritty and barren. He hurried away from
the town. It was late afternoon. Trees cast bands of shadow across the
road. He walked rapidly as if pursued. About a mile to the west of
the town he came on a large wood bordering the road and surrounding
a deserted house.