Adah brought me up my dinner, and I at once noted that she was in a flutter of unusual excitement. Her mother had undoubtedly prepared her for the arrival of the expected guest, and made known also his relations to one of whom she had been somewhat jealous, and it would seem that the simple-hearted girl could not disguise her elation. I was in too bitter a mood to endure a word, and yet did not wish to hurt her feelings; therefore she found me more absorbed in my paper and preoccupied than ever before. "Thank you, Miss Adah," I said, cordially but briefly. "Editors are wretched company; their paper is everything to them, and I've something on my mind just now that's very absorbing." "Thee isn't strong enough to work yet," she said sympathetically. "Oh, yes," I replied, laughing bitterly; "I'm a small edition of Samson. Besides, I'm as poor as Job's impoverished turkey, and must get to work again as soon as possible." "There is no need of thee feeling that way; we--" and then she stopped and blushed. "I know all about 'we,'" I laughed; "your hearts are as large as this wide valley, but then I must keep my self-respect, you know. You have no idea how happy you ought to be in such a home as yours." "I like the city better," she replied, blushing, and she hastily left the room. My greed for work departed as abruptly. "Poor child!" I muttered. "'Life is a tangle,' as Miss Warren said, and a wretched one, too, for many of us." Mrs. Yocomb soon after came in, and looked with solicitude at my almost untasted dinner. "Why, Richard," she said, "thy appetite flags strangely. Isn't thy dinner to thy taste?" "The fault is wholly in me," I replied. "Thee doesn't look so well--nothing like so well. Has Adah said anything to trouble thee?" she asked apprehensively. "No, indeed; Adah is just as good and kind as she can be. She's becoming as good as she is beautiful. Every day increases my respect for her;" and I spoke earnestly and honestly. A faint color stole into the matron's cheek, and she seemed pleased and relieved, but she remarked quietly: "Adah's young and inexperienced." Then she added, with a touch of motherly pride and solicitude, "She's good at heart, and I think is trying to do right." "She will make a noble woman, Mrs. Yocomb--one that you may well be proud of, or I'm no judge of character," I said, with quiet emphasis. "She and Zillah have both been so kind to me that they already seem like sisters. At any rate, after my treatment in this home I shall always feel that I owe to them a brother's duty." The color deepened in the old lady's face, that was still so fair and comely, and tears stood in her eyes. "I understand thee, Richard," she said quietly. "I thought I loved thee for saving our lives and our home, but I love thee more now. Still thee cannot understand a mother's heart. Thee's a true gentleman."