So saying, he retired, and closed the door after him.
As soon as he was alone, the penitent knelt down, and besought Heaven's forgiveness for the sinful act he had attempted, and which had been so fortunately frustrated. His contrition was sincere, and his resolution to lead a better life heartfelt.
His prayers ended, he took off his attire, and, lying down in the little couch in which innocence alone had hitherto reposed, almost instantly fell asleep.
His slumbers were sound, and he had not stirred when Hartley had entered the room on the morrow.
On opening his eyes, Walter could hardly make out where he was; but by degrees the recollection of all that occurred returned to him.
“Don't think any more of last night,” said Hartley, noticing the pained expression of his countenance. “It's nearly noon, but if you feel tired I'll come again later on.”
“Nearly noon!” cried Walter, preparing to spring out of bed. “I ought to have been up hours ago!”
Thereupon, Hartley retired, and his guest proceeded to make his toilette with a care that showed he had not forsaken early habits.
While thus employed he could not help casting his eyes round the chamber, and was more than ever struck by its extreme simplicity and neatness. Everything seemed in its place. It appeared like a profanation to invade such a temple of purity.
On going down-stairs, he found Mrs. Hartley, a middle-aged, matronly woman, decently attired as became her station, and still comely.