School closed at three o'clock, and Mollie flew to Mr. John's yard,
where they were all waiting. She came dancing by the gate, her cheeks
rosy, her eyes shining,--just her old self, as she had been in the
days when no boyhood loomed like an ugly shadow between her and Mr.
John. He saw it all, and charged himself to be stony. So he gave no
better response to her impulsive greeting than he would have given an
ordinary boy. Her spirits fell a degree; but with those happy children
bobbing around her, expecting her to be the happiest of all, they
could do nothing but rise again.
Mr. John did not offer to lift her over fences as he lifted the other
girls; he even called on her to help the little ones over. He held
back branches that came across other girls' paths; he let her clear
her own way. He carried Kittie and Bessie, and Esther and Dora, over
the brook; he let her splash across on the stones with the boys. He
gallantly made cups and gave the other girls to drink; he suggested to
Mollie that she should scoop the water up in her hand, as he was doing
for his own use.
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