My heart felt as big as the biggest
man's.
"If she kill you, little one," said my uncle quietly, "I shall be left
with nobody to take care of me!"
I burst into fresh tears. I saw that I was a fool, and could do nothing.
"Poor John!--To have such a mother!" I sobbed. Then in a rage of
rebellion I cried, "I don't believe she _is_ his mother! Is it possible
now, uncle--does it stand to reason, that such a pestilence of a woman
should ever have borne such a child as my John? I don't, I can't, I won't
believe it!"
"I am afraid there are mysteries in the world quite as hard to explain!"
replied my uncle.
"I confess, if I had known who was his mother, I should have been far
from ready to yield my consent to your engagement."
"What does it matter?" I said. "Of course I shall not marry him!"
"Not marry him, child!" returned my uncle. "What are you thinking of? Is
the poor fellow to suffer for, as well as by the sins of his mother?"
"If you think, uncle, that I will bring you into any kind of relation
with that horrible woman, if the worst of it were only that you would
have to see her once because she was my husband's mother, you are
mistaken. She to threaten you if you did not send back her son, as if
John were a horse you had stolen! You have been the angel of God about me
all the days of my life, but even to please you, I cannot consent to
despise myself.
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