Yes, wealth was indeed no slight peril to the soul. It was only yesterday that her husband had tempted her with such a delightful little man-servant—a perfect English groom. But she had resisted the temptation; and answered: “No, Warden, it would not be right; I will not have a footman on the box. I dare say we can afford it; but let us beware of overweening luxury. I assure you I don’t require help to get into the carriage and out of it; I won’t even let the coachman get down on my account.”
It did her good to think of this now, and her eyes rested complacently on the empty seat on the box, beside the immovable one.
Mrs. Abel, who was busy clearing away Bazars and scraps of stuff from the big table, was astonished to see her friend return so soon.
“Why, Emily! Back again already? I’ve just been telling the dress-maker that she can go. What you were saying to me has quite put me out of conceit of my new frock; I can quite well get on without one—” said good-natured Mrs. Abel; but her lips trembled a little as she spoke.
“Every one must act according to his own conscience,” answered Mrs. Warden, quietly, “but I think it’s possible to be too scrupulous.”
Mrs. Abel looked up; she had not expected this.
“Just let me tell you what I’ve gone through,” said Mrs. Warden, and began her story.
She sketched her first impression of the stuffy room and the wretched people; then she spoke of the theft of her purse.
“My husband always declares that people of that kind can’t refrain from stealing,” said Mrs. Abel.
“I’m afraid your husband is nearer the truth than we thought,” replied Mrs. Warden.