Part 9 (1/2)
”Richard Morton,” said Mrs. Yocomb, rising, ”if thee wishes to free thy mind, or conscience, or heart, I will now give thee an opportunity.”
”My fate is in your hands. If you send me back to my old life and work I will go at once.”
”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.
”The two should go together,” she remarked a little gravely; ”and strength will be given thee to cast away both.”
The spirit of jesting left me at once, and I know that I looked into her kind motherly face very wistfully and appealingly. After a moment I asked:
”Mrs. Yocomb, did you ever treat an utter stranger so kindly before?”
”I think so,” she said, with a smile. ”Emily Warren came to us an entire stranger and we already love her very much.”
”I can understand that. Miss Warren is a genuine woman--one after your own heart. I was not long in finding that out. But I am a man of the world, and you must have noted the fact from the first.”
”Richard Morton, supposing thee is a sinner above all others in Galilee, where do I find a warrant for the 'I am better than thou'
spirit?”
She said these words so gently and sincerely that they touched my very soul, and I exclaimed:
”If evil had been my choice a thousand years, you might me from it.”
She shook her head gravely as she said:
”Thee doesn't understand. Weak is the arm of flesh.”
”But kindness and charity are omnipotent.”
”Yes, if thee turns to Omnipotence for them. But far be it from me to judge thee, Richard Morton. Because thee does not walk just where I am walking is no proof that thou art not a pilgrim.”
”I must tell you in all sincerity that I am not. My brain, heart, and soul have been absorbed by the world, and not by its best things either. Fifteen years ago, when scarcely more than a child, I was left alone in it. I have feared it inexpressibly, and with good reason. I have fought it, and have often been worsted. At times I have hated it; but as I began to succeed I learned to love it, and to serve it with an ambition that gave me so little respite that yesterday I thought that I was a broken and worn-out man. If ever the world had a slave, I am one; but there have been times during this June day when I earnestly wished that I might break my chains; and your serene, kindly face, that is in such blessed contrast to its shrewd, exacting, and merciless spirit, gave hope from the first.”