"Thee knows New York and the world in general well enough to be aware that wealthy bankers do not often seek wives from the class to which Emily belongs, though in my estimation, as well as in thine, no other class is more respectable. But I'm not blinded by prejudice, and I think it speaks well for him that he is able to recognize and honor worth wherever he finds it. Still, he knew her family. The Warrens were quite wealthy, too, at one time."
"What is his name?" I asked sullenly.
"Gilbert Hearn." "What, Hearn the banker, who resides on Fifth Avenue?"
"The same."
"I know him—that is, I know who he is—well." Then I added bitterly, "It's just like him; he has always had the good things of this world, and always will. He'll surely marry her."
"Has thee anything against him?"
"Yes, infinitely much against him: I feel as if he were seeking to marry my wife."
"That's what thee said when out of thy mind," she exclaimed apprehensively. "I hope thee is not becoming feverish?" "Oh, no, Mrs. Yocomb, I've nothing against him at all. He is pre-eminently respectable, as the world goes. He is shrewd, wonderfully shrewd, and always makes a ten-strike in Wall Street; but his securing Miss Warren was a masterstroke. There, I'm talking slang, and disgracing myself generally." But my bitter spirit broke out again in the words, "Never fear; Gilbert Hearn will have the best in the city; nothing less will serve him."
"Thee is prejudiced and unjust. I hope thee'll be in a better mood to-morrow," and she left my room looking hurt and grieved.
I sank back in my chair in wretched, reckless apathy, and from the depths of my heart wished I had died.