A Day of Fate Part 8

"Working foolishly rather. I thought I had broken down, but sleep and your kindness have so revived me that I scarcely know myself. Are you accustomed to take in tramps from New York?"

"That depends somewhat upon the tramps. I think the right leadings are given us."

"If good leadings const.i.tute a Friend, I am one to-day, for I have been led to your home." "Now I'm moved to preach a little," said Mr. Yocomb.

"Richard Morton, does thee realize the sin and folly of overwork? If thee works for thyself it is folly. If thee toils for the good of the world, and art able to do the world any good, it is sin; if there are loved ones dependent on thee, thee may do them a wrong for which there is no remedy. Thee looks to me like a man who has been over-doing."

"Unfortunately there is no one dependent on me, and I fear I have not had the world's welfare very greatly at heart. I have learned that I was becoming my own worst enemy, and so must plead guilty of folly."

"Well, thee doesn't look as if thee had sinned away thy day of grace yet. If thee'll take roast-beef and common-sense as thy medicine, thee'll see my years and vigor."

"Richard Morton," said his wife, with a gentle gravity, "never let any one make thee believe that thee has sinned away thy day of grace."

"Mother, thee's very weak on the 'terrors of the law.' Thee's always for coaxing the transgressors out of the broad road. Thee's lat.i.tudinarian; now!"

"And thee's a little queer, father."

"Emily Warren, am I queer?"

"You are very sound and sensible in your advice to Mr. Morton," she replied. "One may very easily sin against life and health beyond the point of remedy. I should judge from Mr. Morton's words that he is in danger."

"Now, mother, thee sees that Emily Warren believes in the terrors of the law."

"Thee wouldn't be a very good one at enforcing them, Emily," said Mrs.

Yocomb, nodding her head smilingly toward her favorite.

"The trouble is," said Miss Warren a little sadly, "that some laws enforce themselves. I know of so many worn-out people in New York, both men and women, that I wish that Mr. Yocomb's words were printed at the head of ail our leading newspapers."

"Yes," said Mr. Yocomb, "if editors and newspaper writers were only as eager to quiet the people as they are to keep up the hubbub of the world, they might make their calling a useful one. It almost takes away my breath to read some of our great journals."

"Do you not think laziness the one pre-eminent vice of the world?"

tasked.

"Not of native-born Americans. I think restlessness, nervous activity, is the vice of our age. I am out of the whirl, and can see it all the more clearly. Thee admits that thy city life was killing thee--I know it would kill me in a month."

"I would like to have a chance to be killed by it," said Adah, with a sigh.

"Thy absence would be fatal to some in the country," I heard Silas Jones remark, and with a look designed to be very reproachful.

"Don't tell me that. Melissa Bunting would soon console thee."

"Thee stands city life quite well, Emily," said Mrs. Yocomb.

"Yes, better than I once did. I am learning how to live there and still enjoy a little of your quiet; but were it not for my long summers in the country I fear it would go hard with me also."

"You have suggested my remedy," I said. "My business does not permit much chance for rest, unless it is taken resolutely; and, like many other sinners, I have great reforms in contemplation."

"It must be a dreadful business that came so near killing you," Adah remarked, looking at me curiously. "What can it be?"

Mrs. Yocomb glanced at her daughter reprovingly, but Miss Warren's eyes were dancing, and I saw she was enjoying my rather blank look immensely.

T decided, however, that honesty and audacity would be my best allies, and at the same time I hoped to punish Adah a little through her curiosity.

"I must admit that it is a dreadful business. Deeds of darkness occupy much of my time; and when good, honest men, like your father, are asleep, my brain, and hand are busiest. Now you see what a suspicious character your father and mother have harbored in their unquestioning hospitality."

The young lady looked at me with a thoroughly perplexed and half alarmed expression.

"My gracious!" she exclaimed. "What do you do?"

"You do not look as if 'inclined to mercy,'" I replied. "Mr. Yocomb and Miss Warren believe in the terrors of the law, so I have decided to make a full confession to Mrs. Yocomb after supper. I think that I am one of the 'transgressors' that she could 'coax.'"

After a momentary and puzzled glance at my laughing critic, Mrs. Yocomb said:

"Emily Warren knows thy secret."

"So you have told Emily Warren, but will not tell us," Adah complained, in a piqued tone and manner.

"Indeed, you are mistaken. Miss Warren found me out by intuition. I am learning that there is no occasion to tell her things: she sees them."

Mr. Yocomb's face wore a decidedly puzzled look, and contained also the suggestion of an apt guess.

"Well," he said, "thee has shown the shrewdness of an editor, and a Yankee one at that."

Miss Warren now laughed outright.

"Thee thinks," he continued, "that if thee gets mother on thy side thee's safe. I guess I'll adopt a common editorial policy, and sit safely on the fence till I hear what mother says to thy confession."

"Are you laughing at me?" I asked Miss Warren, with an injured air.

"To think that one of your calling should have got into such a dilemma!" she said, in a low tone. "It's delicious!"

"My cheeks may become bronzed, but never brazen, Miss Warren. My guilelessness should touch your sympathies."

"Well," said Adah, with rather a spiteful look at Miss Warren, "I'm glad I've not got a prying disposition. I talked with you half the afternoon and did not find you out."

Even Mrs. Yocomb laughed at this.

"Now, Miss Warren," I said, turning to her with a triumphant look, "I hope you feel properly quenched."

"Is there any record of your crime, or misfortune, or whatever it may be, in Miss Warren's newspaper?" asked Silas Jones, with a slight sneer.

"Yes, sir, of both, if the truth must be told," I replied. "That is the way she found me out."

This unexpected admission increased the perplexity all around, and also added to Miss Warren's merriment.

"Where is the paper?" said Adah, quickly.

At this peculiar proof of his daughter's indifference Mr. Yocomb fairly exploded with laughter. He seemingly shared his wife's confidence in Miss Warren to that degree that the young lady's knowledge of my business, combined with her manner, was a guarantee against anything seriously wrong. Moreover, the young girl's laugh was singularly contagious. Its spontaneity and heartiness were irresistible, and I feared that her singing would not be half so musical.