"Well," said Adah, with rather a spiteful look at Miss Warren, "I'm glad I've not got a prying disposition. I talked with you half the afternoon and did not find you out."
Even Mrs. Yocomb laughed at this.
"Now, Miss Warren," I said, turning to her with a triumphant look, "I hope you feel properly quenched."
"Is there any record of your crime, or misfortune, or whatever it may be, in Miss Warren's newspaper?" asked Silas Jones, with a slight sneer.
"Yes, sir, of both, if the truth must be told," I replied. "That is the way she found me out."
This unexpected admission increased the perplexity all around, and also added to Miss Warren's merriment.
"Where is the paper?" said Adah, quickly.
At this peculiar proof of his daughter's indifference Mr. Yocomb fairly exploded with laughter. He seemingly shared his wife's confidence in Miss Warren to that degree that the young lady's knowledge of my business, combined with her manner, was a guarantee against anything seriously wrong. Moreover, the young girl's laugh was singularly contagious. Its spontaneity and heartiness were irresistible, and I feared that her singing would not be half so musical.
"Richard Morton," said Mrs. Yocomb, rising, "if thee wishes to free thy mind, or conscience, or heart, I will now give thee an opportunity."
"My fate is in your hands. If you send me back to my old life and work
I will go at once."