Bart lived further from the pond than any of the party, and Theodore, who loved him, and was kind to his moods, taking a few of the finest fish, accompanied him home. As they were about to separate from Uncle Jonah--the father of Theodore--he turned to Bart, and said: "Something has happened, no matter what; don't be discouraged, you stick to them old books; there's souls in 'em, and they will carry you out to your place, some time." "Thank you, thank you, Uncle Jonah!" said Bart, warmly; "these are the only encouraging words I've heard for two years." "Theodore," said Bart, as they walked on, "what an uncomfortable bore I must have been to-night." "Oh, I don't know! we thought that something had happened, perhaps." "No, I'm trying to change, and be more civil and quiet, and have been thinking it all over, and don't feel quite comfortable; and we have both something to do besides run in the woods. You were very good to come with me, Theodore," he said, as they parted at the gate. CHAPTER X. AFTER THE FLOOD. The next morning Bart was not up as usual, and George rushed into the low-ceiled room, under the roof. "Bart! breakfast is ready! Ma thinks it strange you ain't up. That was a splendid big bass. Where did you take him? Are you sick?" as he came in. "No, Georgie; I am only languid and dull. I must have been wofully tired." "I should think you would be, running all day and up all night. I should think you'd be hungry, too, by this time." "Georgie, how handsome you look this morning! What a splendid young man you will be, and so bright, and joyous, and good! Everybody will love you; no woman will scorn you. There, tell mother not to wait! I will get up soon." Some time after, the light, quick step of his mother was heard approaching his door, where she paused as if to listen. "I am up, mother," called out Bart; and she found him partly dressed, and sitting listlessly on his bed, pale and dejected. "It is nothing, mother; I'm only a little depressed and dull. I'll be all right in an hour. I ran in the woods a good deal, took cold, and am tired." She looked steadily and wistfully at him. The great change in his face could not escape her. Weary he looked, and worn, as from a heart-ill. "What has happened, Barton? Did you go to anybody's house? Whom did you see?" "No; I went to the pond, and met the Doctor and Uncle Jonah, and Theodore came home with me." "Did you meet Julia Markham anywhere?" "I did; she was going home from Coe's by the old road, and I went out of the woods with her." A long, hard-drawn breath from his mother, who saw that he took her question like a stab. "It is no matter, mother. It had to be over some time." "Barton! you don't mean, Barton--" "I do, just that, mother," steadily. "She was kinder in her scorn than she meant. It was what I needed." "Her scorn! her scorn, Barton!" "Yes, her scorn, mother," decidedly and firmly. "You must have talked and acted foolishly, Barton."