"Your philosophy may be true, but I don't like it," Miss Warren protested. "A woman doesn't generalize."

"Thy philosophy is only half true, Richard Morton. G.o.d cares for each one of His children, and every one in my house counts for much to me."

"There's no getting ahead of thee, mother. If we want to talk heresy, Richard Morton, we must go off by ourselves."

"I think G.o.d showed His love for us in a queer way last night," said Adah, abruptly.

Both her father and mother looked pained at this speech, and Mrs.

Yocomb said gravely:

"Thee'll see things in the true light some day, I hope. The lightning bolt may have been a message from Heaven to thee."

"It seems to me that Zillah got more of the message than I did, and she didn't need any," said the matter-of-fact Adah, "At any rate I hope Richard Morton may be here if I ever get another message."

"I shall surely be struck next time," I laughed, a trifle bitterly; "for according to Mrs. Yocomb's view I need a message more than any of you."

It was evident that neither Adah nor I was in a frame of mind that Mrs.

Yocomb could commend.

"As you suggested, Mr. Morton, if some other tramp from New York had been present, what a thrilling narrative you could write for your paper," Miss Warren began. Seemingly she had had enough of clouds the previous evening, and was bent on clear skies to-night.

She found me incorrigible, however, for I said briefly:

"Oh, no, it would only make an item among the crimes and casualties."

Undaunted, she replied: "And such might have been its appropriate place had not the doctor arrived so promptly. The casualty had already occurred, and I'm quite sure you would have finished us all with original remedies if left to yourself."

"I agree with you, Miss Warren; blunders are worse than crimes, and I've a genius for them."

"Well, I'm not a genius in any sense of the word. Miss Adah and I look at things as they are. One would think, Mr. Morton, accepting your view of yourself, that you could supply your paper with all the crimes and casualties required, as the result of the genius you claim."

"Stupid blunders would make stupid reading."

"Oh, that column in your paper is very interesting, then?"

"Why shouldn't it be? I've never had the bad taste to publish in it anything about myself."

"I fail to find any logic in that remark. Have you a conscience, Mr.

Morton?"

"The idea of an editor having a conscience! I doubt whether you have ever seen New York, Miss Warren, you are so unsophisticated."

"Emily, thee shouldn't be afraid of lightning when thee and Richard Morton are so ready to flash back and forth at one another."

"My words are only heat lightning, very harmless, and Mr. Morton's partake of the aurora in character--they are cool and distant."

"I hope they are not so mysterious," I replied.

"Their cause is, quite."

"I think I understand the cause," said Mrs. Yocomb as we rose from the table; and she came and took my hand. "Richard Morton, thee has fever; thy hands are hot and thy temples are throbbing."

I saw that Miss Warren was looking at me with an expression that was full of kind, regretful interest; but with the perversity of a child that should have been shaken, I replied, recklessly:

"I've taken cold, I fear. I sat on the piazza like an owl last night, and I learned that an owl would have been equally useful there. I fear I'm going to be ill, Mrs. Yocomb, and I think I had better make a precipitate retreat to my den in New York."

"Who'll take care of thee in thy den?" she asked, with a smile that would have disarmed cynicism itself.

"Oh, they can spare a devil from the office occasionally," I said carelessly; but I felt that my remark was brutal. In answer to her look of pained surprise I added, "Pardon me that I used the vile slang of the shop; I meant one of the boys employed in the printing-rooms. Mrs.

Yocomb, I have now satisfied you that I'm too much of a bear to deserve any gentler nurse. I truly think I had better return to town at once.

I've never been very ill, and have no idea how to behave. It's already clear that I wouldn't prove a meek and interesting patient, and I don't want to lose your good opinion."

"Richard Morton, if thee should leave us now I should feel hurt beyond measure. Thee's not thyself or thee wouldn't think of it."

"Richard Morton, thee cannot go," said Mr. Yocomb in his hearty way.

"If thee knew mother as I do, thee'd give right in. I don't often put my foot down, but when I do, it's like old South Mountain there. Ah, here comes the doctor. Doctor Bates, if thee doesn't prescribe several weeks of quiet life in this old farmhouse for Friend Morton, I'll start right off to find a doctor who will."

"Please stay, and I'll gather wild strawberries for thee," said Adah, in a low tone. She had stolen close to my side, and still had the wistful, intent look of a child.

"You might do worse," Doctor Bates remarked.

"You'll never make him believe that," laughed Miss Warren, who evidently believed in tonic treatment and counter-irritants. "He would much prefer sultry New York and an imp from the printing-rooms."

"Thee may drive Dapple all thee wishes if thee'll only stay," said Reuben, his round, boyish face shadowed with unwonted anxiety.

We were standing in the hallway, and Zillah heard our talk, for her little figure came tottering out of the parlor in her trailing wrapper, and her eyes were full of tears.

"Richard Morton, if thee doesn't stay I'll cry myself sick."

I caught her up in my arms and carried her back to the sofa, and I whispered in her ear:

"I'll stay, Zillah; I'll do anything for you."

The child clapped her hands gleefully as she exclaimed:

"Now I've got thee. He's promised me to stay, mother."

"Yes," said the physician, after feeling my pulse, "you certainly must, and you ought to be in bed this moment. Your pulse indicates a very high fever. What's more, you seem badly run down. I shall put you under active treatment at once; that is, if you'll trust me."

"Go ahead, doctor," I said, "and get me through one way or the other before very long. Because these friends are so good and kind is no reason why I should become a burden to them," and I sank down on the sofa in the hall.

"Thee'll do us a great wrong if thee ever thinks that, Richard Morton,"

said Mrs. Yocomb earnestly. "Adah, thee see that his room is ready. I'm going to take thee in hand myself;" and she bustled off to the kitchen.

"You couldn't be in better hands, Mr. Morton," said the physician; "and Mrs. Yocomb can do more for you than I can. I'll try and help a little, however, and will prescribe for you after I've seen Zillah;" and he and Mr. Yocomb went into the parlor, while Reuben, with a triumphant chuckle, started for the barn.

Now that I was alone for a moment, Miss Warren, who had been standing in the doorway, and a little aloof, came to me, and her face was full of trouble as she said hurriedly, in a low tone:

"I fear I'm to blame for this. You'll never know how sorry I am. I _do_ owe you so much! Please get well quickly or I'll--" and she hesitated.