"I did not take your advice," I groaned, "accursed fool that I was! But no matter about me. Save Emily from herself. As you believe in God's mercy, watch over her as you watched over me. Show her the wrong of wrecking both of our lives. She's in the arbor there. Go and stay with her till I am gone. You are my only hope. God bless you for all your kindness to me. Please write: I shall be in torment till I hear from you. Good-by." I watched her till I saw her enter the arbor, then hastened to the barn, where Reuben was giving the horses their noonday feeding. "Reuben," I said, quietly, "I'm compelled to go to New York at once. We can catch the afternoon train, if you are prompt. Not a word, old fellow. I've no time now to explain. I must go, and I'll walk if you won't take me;" and I hastened to the house and packed for departure with reckless haste. At the foot of the moody stairway I met Adah. "Are you going away?" she tried to say distantly, with face averted. "Yes, Miss Adah, and I fear you are glad." "No," she said, brokenly, and turning she gave me her hand. "I can't keep this up any longer, Richard. Since we first met I've been very foolish, very weak, and thee--thee has been a true gentleman toward me." "I wish I might be a true brother. God knows I feel like one." "Thee--thee saved my life, Richard. I was wicked to forget that for a moment. Will thee forgive me?" "I'll forgive you only as you will let me become the most devoted brother a girl ever had, for I love and respect you, Adah, very, very much." Tears rushed into the warm-hearted girl's eyes. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me. "Let this seal that agreement," she said, "and I'll be thy sister in heart as well as in name." "How kind and good you are, Adah!" I faltered. "You are growing like your mother now. When you come to New York you will see how I keep my word," and I hastened away. Mr. Yocomb intercepted me in the path. "How's this? how's this?" he cried. "I must go to New York at once," I said. "Mrs. Yocomb will explain all. I have a message for Mr. Hearn. Please say that I will meet him at any time, and will give any explanations to which he has a right. Good-by; I won't try to thank you for your kindness, which I shall value more and more every coming day." For a long time we rode in silence, Reuben looking as grim and lowering as his round, ruddy face permitted. At last he broke out, "Now, I say, blast Emily Warren's grandfather!" "No, Reuben, my boy," I replied, putting my arm around him, "with all his millions, I'm heartily sorry for Mr. Hearn." CHAPTER XVIII MRS. YOCOMB'S LETTERS I will not weary the reader with my experiences after arriving at New York. I could not have felt worse had I been driven into the Dismal Swamp. My apartments were dusty and stifling, and as cheerless as my feelings.