r,andlookedatthesuheharvest-day,andatthequietfieldsbeforemycottage,which,withtheschool,wasdistanthalfamilefromthevillage.Thebirdsweresingingtheirlaststrains—

    “Theairwasmild,thedewwasbalm.”

    WhileIlooked,Ithoughtmyselfhappy,andwassurprisedtofindmyselferelongweeping—andwhy?Forthedoomwhichhadreftmefromadhesiontomymaster:forhimIwasnomoretosee;forthedesperategriefandfatalfury—sequenydeparture—whichmightnow,perhaps,bedragginghimfromthepathht,toofartoleavehopeofultimaterestorationthither.Atthisthought,IturnedmyfaceasidefromthelovelyskyofeveandlonelyvaleofMorton—Isaylonely,forinthatbendofitvisibletometherewasnobuildingapparentsavethechurdtheparsonage,half-hidintrees,and,quiteattheextremity,theroofofValeHall,wheretherichMr.Oliverandhisdaughterlived.Ihidmyeyes,amyheadagainstthestoneframeofmydoor;butsoonaslightnoisehewicketwhichshutinmytinygardenfromthemeadowbeyonditmademelookup.Adog—oldr.Rivers’pointer,asIsawinamoment—ushiewithhisnose,andSt.Johnhimselfleantuponitwithfoldedarms;hisbrowknit,hisgaze,gravealmosttodispleasure,fixedonme.Iaskedhimtoein.

    “No,Iotstay;Ihaveonlybroughtyoualittleparcelmysistersleftforyou.Ithinkittainsacolour-box,pencils,andpaper.”

    Iapproachedtotakeit:awelegiftitwas.Heexaminedmyface,Ithought,withausterity,asIear:thetracesoftearsweredoubtlessveryvisibleuponit.

    “Haveyoufoundyourfirstday’sworkharderthanyouexpected?”heasked.

    “Oh,no!Orary,IthinkintimeIshallgetonwithmyscholarsverywell.”

    “Butperhapsyouraodations—yourcottage—