Benton came near being pushed into the stone wall on the old road
corners. On our return he spoke of Matthias.
"I don't like that fellow anyway, Emily."
"Don't like him! why not, pray?"
He gave a sort of derisive ejaculation, and added:
"You are a little simpleton, Emily, so good and true, you take all for
gold."
"Well," I replied, "Matthias is good, I know; but why do you dislike
him?"
"Oh! he belongs to a miserable, low-lived, thievish race, and he knows
enough to be a dangerous fellow to have round. If I were you I'd not
encourage his hanging round; he'll do something to pay you for your
kindness yet."
CHAPTER XII.
A REMEDY FOR WRONG-TALKING.
I could not believe what Mr. Benton said of Matthias, and did not
refrain from speaking of it to Clara, whose opinions were golden to me,
and her reply was perfectly in accordance with my own feelings. Each
took her own route to the conclusion, but her interpretation came as an
intuitive perception, while mine was more like something which fell into
my mind with a power whenever his eyes met my own.
"Emily," said Clara, "I have taken his dark hand in mine. I have come
close to his white heart, when from his lips have fallen the words
telling his history, and I would trust him everywhere. If any trouble
comes to you, Emily, trust Matthias; he is as true as truth itself, and
his soul is pure--purer, perhaps, than the souls of many who have had
great advantages, and whose forms have been molded in a more beautiful
shape.
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