In The Garden, Part 2

Chapter XXVII. In the Garden. In a few days he was in Yorkshire again, and on his long railroad journey he found himself thinking of his boy as he had never thought in all the ten years past. During those years, he had only wished to forget him. Now, though he did not intend to think about him,

memories of him constantly drifted into his mind. He remembered the black days when he had raved like a madman because the child was alive and the mother was dead. He had refused to see it, and when he had gone to look at it at last, it had been such a weak, wretched thing that every one had been sure it would die in a few days. But to the surprise of those who took care