"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 passed 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 platitudes 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?"