Mrs. Cardew took her husband’s hand in her own sweet way, kissed it, and held it fast. At last, with a little struggle, she said—
“My dear, you have never preached—to me, at least—as you have preached to-night.”
“You really mean it?”
She kissed his hand again, and leaned her head on his shoulder. That was her reply. He clasped her tenderly, fervently, more than fervently, and yet! while his mouth was on her neck, and his arms were round her body, the face of Catharine presented itself, and it was not altogether his wife whom he caressed.
Meanwhile Tom, pursuing his way homeward, overtook Miss Furze, to his great surprise.
“Tom, where have you been?”
“I have just left Mr. and Mrs. Cardew.”
Catharine, on her way home, hesitating—for it was Catharine whom Tom and Mr. Cardew saw—had met Mrs. Cardew just about to leave the house.
“Why, Catharine! you here?”
“I was tempted by the night.”