"But why does Mr. Chamberlayne come to you now?" he asked, when he had
regained his voice.
"It is Mrs. Gay--it has always been Mrs. Gay ever since Mr. Jonathan
first saw her. She smothered his soul with her softness, and wound him
about her little finger when she appeared all the time too weak to
lift her hand. That's just the kind Mr. Mullen preaches about in his
sermons--the kind that rules without your knowing it. But if she'd been
bold and bad instead of soft and good, she couldn't have done half the
harm!"
"And Miss Kesiah?" he asked, "had she nothing to do with it?"
"She? Oh, her sister has drained her--there isn't an ounce of red blood
left in her veins. Mr. Jonathan never liked her because she is homely,
and she had no influence over him. Mrs. Gay ruled him."
"I always thought her so lovely and gentle," he said regretfully, "she
seems to me so much more womanly than Miss Kesiah."
"I suppose she is as far as her face goes, and that's what people judge
by. If you part your hair and look a certain way nothing that you can do
will keep them from thinking you an angel. When I smile at Mr.
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