"The fault is wholly in me," I replied.
"Thee doesn't look so well—nothing like so well. Has Adah said anything to trouble thee?" she asked apprehensively.
"No, indeed; Adah is just as good and kind as she can be. She's becoming as good as she is beautiful. Every day increases my respect for her;" and I spoke earnestly and honestly.
A faint color stole into the matron's cheek, and she seemed pleased and relieved, but she remarked quietly:
"Adah's young and inexperienced." Then she added, with a touch of motherly pride and solicitude, "She's good at heart, and I think is trying to do right."
"She will make a noble woman, Mrs. Yocomb—one that you may well be proud of, or I'm no judge of character," I said, with quiet emphasis. "She and Zillah have both been so kind to me that they already seem like sisters. At any rate, after my treatment in this home I shall always feel that I owe to them a brother's duty."
The color deepened in the old lady's face, that was still so fair and comely, and tears stood in her eyes.
"I understand thee, Richard," she said quietly. "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."
"Who was thee swearing at?" she asked, in much surprise.