I was by the open window, and I do not think any one heard her words except Zillah, and she did not understand them.
I stood looking after her, forgetful of all else, when a hand laid upon my arm caused me to look around, and I met Adah's gaze, and it was as fixed and intent as that of a child.
"She doesn't owe thee any more than I do," she said gravely. "I wish I could do something for thee."
"Why do you say 'thee' to me now?—you always said 'you' before," I asked.
"I don't know. It seems as if I couldn't say 'you' to thee any more," and a delicate color stole into her face.
"We all feel as if thee were one of us now," explained Mrs. Yocomb gently, "and I trust that life will henceforth seem to Adah a more sacred thing, and worthy of more sacred uses." And she passed into the house to prepare for supper.
Mr. Yocomb followed her, and Reuben went down to the barn.
"If you live to grow like your mother, Miss Adah, you will be the most beautiful woman in the world," I said frankly, for I felt as if I could speak to her almost as I would to Zillah.
Her eyes drooped and her color deepened as she shook her head and murmured:
"I'd rather be Emily Warren than any other woman in the world."