"Why, Mrs. Yocomb!" I exclaimed—for I could not forego the chance to vindicate myself—"I never considered you a precipitate, ill-balanced person."
Miss Warren's cheeks were scarlet, and I saw that she understood me well. I think Mrs. Yocomb guessed my meaning, too, for her smile was a little peculiar as she remarked demurely, "Women are different from men: they know almost immediately whether they like a person or not. I liked thee in half a day."
"You like sinners on principle, Mrs. Yocomb. I think it was my general depravity and heathenism that won your regard."
"No, as a woman I liked thee. Thee isn't as bad as thee seems."
"Mr. Yocomb, I hope you don't object to this, for I must assure you most emphatically that I don't."
"Mother's welcome to love thee all she pleases," said the old gentleman, laughing. "Indeed, I think I egg her on to it."
"Good friends," said Miss Warren, with her old mirthful look, "you'll turn Mr. Morton's head; you should be more considerate."
"I am indeed bewildered. Miss Warren's keen eyes have detected my weak point."
"A man with so stout a heart," Mr. Hearn began, "could well afford—" and then he hesitated.
"To be weak-headed," I said, finishing his sentence. "I fear you are mistaken, sir. I can't afford it at all."