"Ah!" exclaimed Miss Warren, in mock gravity, "now there is a touch of tragedy in your words. Must we all hold our breaths till you return, absolved or condemned?"
"And were I condemned would you breathe freely?"
"Yes, indeed I would, if Mrs. Yocomb condemned you. But after my sense of justice was satisfied I might be moved to pity."
"And you think I may become a pitiable object?"
"You would be, indeed, if Mrs. Yocomb condemned you."
"Lead on," I exclaimed, with a gesture of mock tragedy; "this is the hour of destiny."
CHAPTER VII
A FRIEND
"Richard Morton," said Mrs. Yocomb, as she sat down encouragingly near me in the low-studded parlor, "thee does not look into my eyes as if thee had a great burden on thy conscience."
"I have a great fear in my heart," I said.