On reaching the open air, I observed that Pendlam was quite tremulous and flushed.
"You see," he said with a smile, "what it is to be a minister."
We went home to his house. Horatio had arrived before us, in company with Susan and her mother. The latter was looking very uncomfortable at seeing me, I thought, for she had hated me cordially since my affair with her daughter.
"I declare, John Henry," she said, in her energetic way, "I hope you never will preach another such sermon as long as I live! I couldn't make neither head nor tail to it." And she gathered up her Sunday things, which she had taken off in the parlour, with an air of offended piety that occasioned a general smile. Pendlam smiled with the rest.
"Well, Horatio, you next,—what did you think of my sermon?"
"I liked it."
"Good! but give your reason."
"Because you said nothing about the theatre. I was mortally afraid you would; for, d'ye see, you had a distinguished theatrical personage in your audience."
"Indeed! I was not aware; who?"
"Miss Kellerton herself!"