No More Learning

Kurrell did
not ride on either to see Mrs. Boulte or Mrs. Vansuythen. He sat in his
saddle and thought, while his pony grazed by the roadside.

The whir of approaching wheels roused him. Mrs. Vansuythen was driving
home Mrs. Boulte, white and wan, with a cut on her forehead.

"Stop, please," said Mrs. Boulte "I want to speak to Ted. "

Mrs. Vansuythen obeyed, but as Mrs. Boulte leaned forward, putting her
hand upon the splash-board of the dog-cart, Kurrell spoke.

"I've seen your husband, Mrs. Boulte.
"

There was no necessity for any further explanation. The man's eyes were
fixed, not upon Mrs. Boulte, but her companion. Mrs. Boulte saw the
look.

"Speak to him! " she pleaded, turning to the woman at her side. "Oh,
speak to him! Tell him what you told me just now. Tell him you hate him.
Tell him you hate him! "

She bent forward and wept bitterly, while the sais, impassive, went
forward to hold the horse. Mrs. Vansuythen turned scarlet and dropped
the reins. She wished to be no party to such unholy explanations.

"I've nothing to do with it," she began, coldly; but Mrs.