"She knows I wanted to see you."
"Please let me do something or get thee something."
"No; just leave me to myself a little while, and I'll be all right. Go at once, that's a good fellow."
"Oh, Richard, thee shouldn't have come down. Thee looks so pale and sick that I'm afraid thee'll die yet; if thee does, thee'll break all our hearts," and the warm-hearted boy burst out crying, and ran and locked himself in his room.
I was not left alone very long, for Mrs. Yocomb soon entered, saying:
"I'm glad thee's so prudent, and has returned to thy room. Thee acted very generously to-night, and I appreciate it. I had no idea thee could be so strong and carry it out so well. Emily was greatly surprised, but she enjoyed her first evening far more than she otherwise could have done, for she's one of the most kind-hearted, sensitive girls I ever knew. I do believe it would have killed her if thee hadn't got well. But thee looks kind of weak and faint, as far as I can see. Let me light the lamp for thee."
"No, Mrs. Yocomb, I like the dusk best. The light draws moths. They will come, you know, the stupid things, though certain to be scorched. One in the room at a time is enough. Don't worry—I'm a little tired—that's all. Sleep is all I need."
"Is thee sure?" "Yes, indeed; don't trouble about me. You won't know me in a few days."
"Thee was a brave, generous man to-night, Richard. I understood the effort thee was making, and I think Emily did. A good conscience ought to make thee sleep well."
I laughed very bitterly as I said, "My conscience is gutta-percha to-night, through and through, but please say no more, or I'll have to shock you again. I'll be in a better mood to-morrow."