As the man said this, he began to weep bitterly.
The idea that his mind was affected now seriously occurred to Mrs. Marston, and she resolved to convey her suspicions to her husband, and to leave him to deal with the case as to him should seem good.
“Don’t agitate yourself so, Merton; I shall speak to your master upon what you have said; and you may rely upon it, that no surmise to the prejudice of your character has entered my mind,” said Mrs. Marston, very kindly.
“Oh, ma’am, you are too good,” sobbed the poor man, vehemently. “You don’t know me, ma’am; I never knew myself till lately. I am a miserable man. I am frightened at myself, ma’am—frightened terribly. Christ knows, it would be well for me I was dead this minute.”
“I am very sorry for your unhappiness, Merton,” said Mrs. Mars
