"I have lent her the use of the house till her husband shall come back."
"Mr. Peacocke, you mean," said the Bishop, who was unable not to put in a contradiction against the untruth of the word which had been used.
"I shall always regard them as married."
"But they are not."
"I have lent her the house, at any rate, during his absence. I could not turn her into the street."
"Would not a lodging here in the city have suited her better?"
"I thought not. People here would have refused to take her,—because of her story. The wife of some religious grocer, who sands his sugar regularly, would have thought her house contaminated by such an inmate."
"So it would have been, Doctor, to some extent." At hearing this the Doctor made very evident signs of discontent. "You cannot alter the ways of the world suddenly, though by example and precept you may help to improve them slowly. In our present imperfect condition of moral culture, it is perhaps well that the company of the guilty should be shunned."
"Guilty!"
"I am afraid that I must say so. The knowledge that such a feeling exists no doubt deters others from guilt. The fact that wrong-doing in women is scorned helps to maintain the innocence of women. Is it not so?"