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Updated: May 9, 2025
That just shows, Tom, how well you know your own sex. Why, Mr. Yewdell and I are the best friends in the world, and he writes to me almost every week, and very nice letters, only too long, I think." Her brother stared at her and almost gasped with astonishment. "Well, I am surprised and glad," he said, recovering his speech at last. "It was worth crossing the Atlantic only to hear this."
Then how am I to help you, and why have you told me so much?" "My trouble is that you can't help me, Tom. My belief is that no man who is worth anything ever changes. His circumstances change and he adapts himself to them, but that is all on the surface. Can you imagine your Mr. Yewdell something vile, degenerate, weak a gambler, a noisy fool, a braggart, a tippler " "Good heavens, no!"
Yewdell, and the way you treated him. I could not have believed it of you. I began to think that I had the most well, capricious woman in all Europe for a sister." "Poor man!" "No, it is not poor man in this case, but poor woman. For you contemptuously flung away the best chance of happiness that ever came to you.
There is something on your mind. Don't be afraid to confide in me." She got up and came to his side; she could not speak sitting there with his eyes on her. "Do you remember the confession I made to you when we were at Naples? When you spoke to me about Yewdell, and I said that I never wished to marry? I confessed that I had allowed myself to love a man, knowing him to be no good man.
And Yewdell was that sort of man, gentle but firm " "Oh, do be original, Tom, and say something pretty about a steel hand under a silk glove." "Ah, well, you may scoff if you like, but perhaps you regret now that you went so far with him. A mercenary man, or even a mean-spirited man, would have put up with it perhaps, and followed you still. He respected himself too much to do that.
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