CHAPTER TWELVE
JOAN WALKS HOME
While John Barren determined that a space of time extending over some days
should now separate him from Joan, she, for her part, had scarce left Gorse
Point after the conversation just chronicled when there came a great
longing in her heart to return thither. As she walked home she viewed
wearily the hours which lay between her and the following morning when she
might go back to him and see his face again. Time promised to drag for the
next day and night. Already she framed in her mind the things her mouth
should say to-morrow; and that almost before she was beyond sight of the
man's easel. Her fears had vanished with her tears. The future was entirely
in his hand now, for she had accepted his teaching, endeavored to look at
life with his eyes, made his God her own, so far as she had wit to gather
what his God was. She accepted the situation with trust, and felt
responsibility shifted on to "Mister Jan's" shoulders with infinite relief.
He was very wise and knew everything and loved the truth. It is desirable
to harp and harp upon this ever-recurring thought: the artist's grand love
for truth; because all channels of Joan's mind flowed into this lake. His
sincerity begat absolute trust. And, as John Barren and his words and
thoughts filled the foreground of life for her, so, correspondingly, did
the affairs of her home, with all the circumstances of existence in the old
environment, peak and dwindle toward shadowy insignificance.
Pages:
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145