Part 56 (2/2)

”Yes, Miss Adah, and I fear you are glad.”

”No,” she said, brokenly, and turning she gave me her hand. ”I can't keep this up any longer, Richard. Since we first met I've been very foolish, very weak, and thee--thee has been a true gentleman toward me.”

”I wish I might be a true brother. G.o.d knows I feel like one.”

”Thee--thee saved my life, Richard. I was wicked to forget that for a moment. Will thee forgive me?”

”I'll forgive you only as you will let me become the most devoted brother a girl ever had, for I love and respect you, Adah, very, very much.”

Tears rushed into the warm-hearted girl's eyes. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me. ”Let this seal that agreement,” she said, ”and I'll be thy sister in heart as well as in name.”

”How kind and good you are, Adah!” I faltered. ”You are growing like your mother now. When you come to New York you will see how I keep my word,” and I hastened away.

Mr. Yocomb intercepted me in the path.

”How's this? how's this?” he cried.

”I must go to New York at once,” I said. ”Mrs. Yocomb will explain all.

I have a message for Mr. Hearn. Please say that I will meet him at any time, and will give any explanations to which he has a right. Good-by; I won't try to thank you for your kindness, which I shall value more and more every coming day.”

For a long time we rode in silence, Reuben looking as grim and lowering as his round, ruddy face permitted.

At last he broke out, ”Now, I say, blast Emily Warren's grandfather!”

”No, Reuben, my boy,” I replied, putting my arm around him, ”with all his millions, I'm heartily sorry for Mr. Hearn.”

CHAPTER XVIII

MRS. YOCOMB'S LETTERS

I will not weary the reader with my experiences after arriving at New York. I could not have felt worse had I been driven into the Dismal Swamp. My apartments were dusty and stifling, and as cheerless as my feelings.

My editorial chief welcomed me cordially, and talked business. ”After you had gone,” he was kind enough to say, ”we learned your value. Night work is too wearing for you, so please take that office next to mine. I feel a little like breaking down myself, and don't intend to wait until I do, as you did. I shall be off a great deal the rest of the summer, and you'll have to manage things.”

”Pile on work,” I said; ”I'm greedy for it.”

”Yes,” he replied, laughing, ”I appreciate that rare trait of yours; but I shall regard you as insubordinate if you don't take proper rest.

Give us your brains, Morton, and leave hack work to others. That's where you blundered before.”

Within an hour I was caught in the whirl of the great complicated world, and, as I said to Mr. Yocomb, I had indeed no time to mope.

Thank G.o.d for work! It's the best antidote this world has for trouble.

But when night came my brain was weary and my heart heavy as lead. It seemed as if the farmhouse was in another world, so diverse was everything there from my present life.

I had given my uptown address to Mrs. Yocomb and went home--if I may apply that term to my dismal boarding-place--Tuesday night, feeling a.s.sured that there must be a letter. Good Mrs. Yocomb had not failed me, for on my table lay a bulky envelope, addressed in a quaint but clear hand. I was glad no one saw how my hand trembled as I opened her missive and read:

”My Dear Richard--I know how anxious thee is for tidings from us all, and especially from one toward whom thy heart is very tender. I will take up the sad story where thee left it. Having all the facts, thee can draw thy own conclusions.

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