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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Mrs. Yocomb, Miss Warren has been laughing at me ever since I came. I may have to claim your protection." "No! thee and father are big enough to take care of yourselves." "Emily Warren, is thee and Richard Morton both lost?" called Mr. Yocomb from the piazza. "I can't find mother either. If somebody don't come soon I'll blow the fish-horn." "We're all coming," answered Mrs.
"It took me several months." "Thee was a little blind, father. I wasn't going to let thee see how much I thought of thee till I had kept thee waiting a proper time." "That's rich!" I cried, and I laughed as I had not since my illness. "How long is a proper time, Mrs. Yocomb? I remember being once told that a woman was a mystery that a man could never solve. I fear it's true."
Yocomb, as if the words were irrepressible, "thee knows a little of how we feel toward thee, if thee won't let us say as much as we would like. I love this old home in which I was born and have lived until this day. I could never build another home like it if every leaf on the farm were a bank-note. But I love the people who live here far more.
Are you accustomed to take in tramps from New York?" "That depends somewhat upon the tramps. I think the right leadings are given us." "If good leadings constitute a Friend, I am one to-day, for I have been led to your home." "Now I'm moved to preach a little," said Mr. Yocomb. "Richard Morton, does thee realize the sin and folly of overwork? If thee works for thyself it is folly.
"For which truth I am devoutly thankful. I imagine that instead of a week, as Mr. Yocomb said, it would require a lifetime to get acquainted with some women. I wish my mother had lived. I'm sure that she would have been a continuous revelation to me. I know that she had a great deal of sorrow, and yet my most distinct recollection of her is her laugh.
"Sleep, Richard Morton, and when rested and well, may gales from heaven spring up and carry thee homeward. Fear not even rough winds, if they bear thee toward the only true home. Now thy only duty is to rest." "You are not going to sit up to-night, Mrs. Yocomb." She put her finger on her lips. "Hush!" she said. "Oh, delicious tyranny!" I murmured.
Yocomb were now very busy in their harvest, and I saw them chiefly in the evening, but they were too tired to stay long. Time often hung wofully heavy on my hands, and I longed to be out of doors again; but Mrs. Yocomb was prudently inexorable. I am sure that she restrained Adah a great deal, for she grew less and less demonstrative in manner, and I was left more to myself. Thus a week passed.
Yocomb and Miss Warren believe in the terrors of the law, so I have decided to make a full confession to Mrs. Yocomb after supper. I think that I am one of the 'transgressors' that she could 'coax." After a momentary and puzzled glance at my laughing critic, Mrs. Yocomb said: "Emily Warren knows thy secret."
I should pity her, and treat her as if she were deformed. Poor Mrs. Yocomb! Even mother-love cannot blind her to the truth that her fair daughter is a misshapen creature." After a little, I added wearily, "I wish I had never seen her; I am the worse for this day's mirage," and I closed my eyes in dull apathy.
They seemed to bring back that June evening in the old garden so vividly that I've lived the scene over and over again." She looked perplexed, and colored slightly, but said smilingly, "Mrs. Yocomb will think I'm a poor nurse if I let you talk too much." "Then talk to me. I promise to listen as long as you will talk." "Well, mention an agreeable subject." "Yourself.
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