"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.