"Perhaps mother gave thee a bit of a sermon?"
"She has given me two things that a man can"t be a man without--hope and courage."
"Well, thee does kind of look as if thee had plucked up heart."
"You, too, are catching the infection of this home," Miss Warren said, in a low voice, as she stood near me.
"So soon? I feel that I shall need an exposure of several weeks. There is now but one obstacle in the way."
"Ah, yes! I remember what you said. It"s time you explained."
"Not yet." And I turned and answered Adah"s perplexed and frowning brow.
"You will find me in that paper, Miss Adah, as one of its chief faults.
I am one of its editors, and this fact will reveal to you the calling from which I and many others, no doubt, have suffered. Thus you see that, after all, I have revealed my secret to you only. To your mother I revealed myself. I hope, sir, you will not reverse your decision?" I said to Mr. Yocomb.
The old gentleman laughed heartily as he answered, "I have had my say about editors in general. Mother and--I may add--something in thy own manner, has inclined me to except present company. But I"ll read thy paper since Emily Warren takes it, so thee"d better beware."
I saw that Adah was regarding me with complacency, and seemed meditating many other questions. I had fully decided, however, that while I should aim to keep her goodwill I would not permit her to make life a burden by her inane chatter, or by any sense of proprietorship in me. She must learn, as speedily as possible, that I was not one of her "half-dozen young men."
"Richard Morton, thee can keep thy room, and I hope thee will not find our quiet, homely ways irksome, since we cannot greatly change them,"
said my hostess.
"I have a request to make, Mrs. Yocomb," I replied earnestly; "and I shall derive no pleasure or benefit from my sojourn with you unless you grant it. It is, that your family life may go on just the same as if I were not here. As surely as I see that I am a source of restraint or extra care and trouble, you will drive me out into the wilderness again. You know why I wish to stay with you," I added meaningly.
"We shall take thee at thy word," said Mrs. Yocomb, with a smile on her lips but a very wistful, kindly light in her eyes.
"Reuben, tell Richard Morton the truth," said his father. "Would it give thee a great deal of trouble or much pleasure to take Dapple and drive to the village for friend Morton"s valise?"
The youth, who was a good-natured and manly boy, to whom Sundays pa.s.sed a trifle slowly, sprang up with such alacrity that I laughed as I said, "No need of words, Reuben, but I owe you a good turn all the same."
Then turning to Miss Warren, I continued:
"You have been here a week. Will your conscience permit you to teach me a little topography? It would be no worse than reading that newspaper."
"Indeed, I think it might be better. It will be a useful task, at least; for, left to yourself, you might get lost, and make Mr. Yocomb no end of trouble. Did you not tell me, sir (to our host), that on one occasion you had to hunt some one up with fish-horns, lanterns, etc.?"
"Yes, and he was from New York, too," said Mr. Yocomb.
"If I get lost, leave me to my fate. There will be one editor the less."
"Very true; but I"d rather have thee on thy paper than on my conscience. So Emily Warren, thee look after him, and show him the right and proper ways, for I am now too old to enjoy a night hunt, even with the music of fish-horns to cheer us on. I ask thee, Emily, for some of thine instead when thee comes back."
CHAPTER VIII
THE MYSTERY OF MYSTERIES
"Is it a task, then, to show me the right paths and proper ways?" I asked, as we strolled away, leaving Adah looking as if--in her curiosity to know more of the new species, a night editor--she wished Silas Jones in the depths of the Dead Sea.
"That may depend on how apt and interesting a scholar you prove. I"m a teacher, you know, and teaching some of my scholars is drudgery, and others a pleasure."
"So I"m put on my good behavior at once."
"You ought to be on your good behavior anyway--this is Sunday."
"Yes, and June. If a man is not good now he"ll never be. And yet such people as Mrs. Yocomb--nor will I except present company--make me aware that I am not good--far from it."
"I am glad Mrs. Yocomb made just that impression on you."
"Why?"
"Because it proves you a better man than your words suggest, and, what is of more consequence, a receptive man. I should have little hope for any one who came from a quiet talk with Mrs. Yocomb in a complacent mood or merely disposed to indulge in a few plat.i.tudes on the sweetness and quaintness of her character, and some sentimentalities in regard to Friends. If the depths of one"s nature were not stirred, then I would believe that there were no depths. She is doing me much good, and giving me just the help I needed."
"I can honestly say that she uttered one sentence that did find soundings in such shallow depths as exist in my nature, and I ought to be a better man for it hereafter."
"She may have found you dreadfully bad, Mr. Morton: but I saw from her face that she did not find you shallow. If she had, you would not have touched her so deeply."
"I touched her?"
"Yes. Women understand each other. Something you said--but do not think I"m seeking to learn what it was--moved her sympathies."
"Oh, she"s kind and sympathetic toward every poor mortal."
"Very true; but she"s intensely womanly; and a woman is incapable of a benevolence and sympathy that are measured out by the yard--so much to each one, according to the dictates of judgment. You were so fortunate as to move Mrs. Yocomb somewhat as she touched your feelings; and you have cause to be glad; for she can be a friend that will make life richer."
"I think I can now recall what excited her sympathies, and may tell you some time, that is, if you do not send me away."
"I send you away?"
"Yes, I told you that you were the one obstacle to my remaining."
She looked at me as if perplexed and a little hurt. I did not reply at once, for her countenance was so mobile, so obedient to her thought and feeling, that I watched its varied expressions with an interest that constantly deepened. In contrast to Adah Yocomb"s her face was usually pale; and yet it had not the sickly pallor of ill-health, but the clear, transparent complexion that is between the brunette and the blonde. Her eyes were full, and the impression of largeness, when she looked directly at you, was increased by a peculiar outward curve of their long lashes.
Whether her eyes could be called blue I could not yet decide, and they seemed to darken and grow a little cold as she now looked at me; but she merely said, quietly:
"I do not understand you."
"This was your chosen resting-place for the summer, was it not, Miss Warren?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, what right have I, an entire stranger, to come blundering along like a June beetle and disturb your rest? You did not look forward to a.s.sociations with night editors and like disreputable people when you chose this sheltered nook of the world, and nestled under Mrs.
Yocomb"s wing. You have the prior right here."
As I spoke, her face so changed that it reminded me of the morning of this eventful day when I first looked out upon its brightness, and as I ceased her laugh rang out heartily.