"Myself, and with good reason."
"There is never good reason for such wickedness," she said gravely, but regarding me with deep solicitude. Presently she added, "Thee has had some great provocation?"
"No; I've been honored with unmerited kindness and trust, which I have ill requited." "Emily Warren has been to see thee?"
"Yes."
"Did she tell thee?"
"Yes; and I feel that I could throttle that man. Now you know what a heathen savage I am."
"Yes," she said dryly, "thee has considerable untamed human nature." Then added, smiling, "I'll trust him with thee, nevertheless. I'm inclined to think that for her sake thee'd do more for him than for any man living. Now wouldn't thee?"
"Oh, Satan take him! Yes!" I groaned. "Forgive me, Mrs. Yocomb. I'm so unmanned, so desperate from trouble, that I'm not fit for decent society, much less your company. You believe in a Providence: why was this woman permitted to enslave my very soul when it was of no use?"
"Richard Morton," she said reproachfully, "thee is indeed unmanned. Thee's wholly unjust and unreasonable. This gentleman has been Emily Warren's devoted friend for years. He has taken care of her little property, and done everything for her that her independent spirit would permit. He might have sought an alliance among the wealthiest, but he has sued long and patiently for her hand—"
"Well he might," I interrupted irritably. "Emily Warren is the peer of any man in New York."