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Updated: June 20, 2025
"I thought I loved thee for saving our lives and our home, but I love thee more now. Still thee cannot understand a mother's heart. Thee's a true gentleman." "Dear Mrs. Yocomb, you must learn to understand me better or I shall have to run away in self-defence. When you talk in that style I feel like an arrant hypocrite. I give you my word that I've been swearing this very forenoon."
Hearn, growing much more benign; "why, Emily, you did not tell me that." "No, I only spoke of Mr. Morton as a gentleman." "I imagine that Miss Warren thinks that I have mistaken my calling, and that I ought to be a gardener." "That's an odd impression. Mr. Yocomb would not even trust you to weed," she retorted quickly. "I have a fellow feeling for weeds; they grow so easily and naturally.
The spirit of jesting left me at once, and I know that I looked into her kind motherly face very wistfully and appealingly. After a moment I asked: "Mrs. Yocomb, did you ever treat an utter stranger so kindly before?" "I think so," she said, with a smile. "Emily Warren came to us an entire stranger and we already love her very much." "I can understand that.
I lay almost as if I were dead for hours, and the evening was growing dusky when I arose and wearily returned to the farmhouse. They were all on the veranda except Miss Warren, who was at her piano again. Mrs. Yocomb met me with much solicitude. "Reuben was just starting out to look for thee," she said. "I took a longer ramble than I intended," I replied, with a laugh.
"Well, this air, these scenes ought to impart health and content. I'm greatly pleased already, and congratulate myself on finding so pleasant a place of summer sojourn. It will form a delightful contrast to great hotels and jostling crowds." I now saw Miss Warren, through the half-open door, talking to Mrs. Yocomb. They evidently thought the banker was conversing with Mr. Yocomb.
I guess thee thinks thee had the worst of it after all." "So thee has," broke out Mr. Yocomb. "Thee didn't know what an awful scrape I was getting thee into when I brought thee home from meeting. Never was a stranger so taken in before. I don't believe thee'll ever go to Friends' meeting again," and the old gentleman laughed heartily, but tears stood in his eyes.
"Yes," he replied, laughing, "I appreciate that rare trait of yours; but I shall regard you as insubordinate if you don't take proper rest. Give us your brains, Morton, and leave hack work to others. That's where you blundered before." Within an hour I was caught in the whirl of the great complicated world, and, as I said to Mr. Yocomb, I had indeed no time to mope. Thank God for work!
Miss Warren seemed as wholly free from any morbid, unnatural tendencies as Mr. Yocomb himself, and she did her utmost to make the hour as genial as it should have been. At first I imagined that she was trying to satisfy herself that I had recovered my senses, and that my unexpected words, spoken in the morning, were the result of a mood that was as transient as it was abnormal.
Thee looks so pale and sick that I'm afraid thee'll die yet; if thee does, thee'll break all our hearts," and the warm-hearted boy burst out crying, and ran and locked himself in his room. I was not left alone very long, for Mrs. Yocomb soon entered, saying: "I'm glad thee's so prudent, and has returned to thy room. Thee acted very generously to-night, and I appreciate it.
My waking train of thought ended in a stupor in which I do not think I lost for a moment the dull consciousness of pain. I was aroused by a step upon the gravel-path, and, starting up, saw the woman who served Mrs. Yocomb in the domestic labors of the farmhouse. She stopped and stared at me a moment, and then was about to continue around the house to the kitchen entrance.
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