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"Do you know that it's Sunday morning, and I ought to be reading my two chapters?" she demanded severely. "This town life is making me forget my religion already, and as for you, you worldly-minded young sinner, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, beguiling me with your heathenish dance parties. Go along now and let me get my mind in order again." The question he could not answer, so dismissing it from his memory, he retired to the smoking-room with a pipe and a novel. When Jen and David returned he intended to question both, and, if possible, get to the bottom of these thickening mysteries. "I have failed," he said. "There is nothing left but the devil-stick." "Can't find anything," he said at last, letting me go and looking carefully at my face. His eyes were all anxiety; and I liked it. "When does it hurt you, and how?" he asked anxiously..