to his heart. After such an object lesson, the impossibility of his
continuing to sacrifice himself to a notion of duty to these low-minded
and coarse-natured villagers was beyond all argument. There could no
longer be any doubt about his moral right to turn his back upon them, to
wash his hands of the miserable combination of hypocrisy and hysterics
which they called their spiritual life.

And the question of Gorringe and Alice, that too stood precisely where
he wanted it. Even in his own thoughts, he preferred to pursue it no
further. Between them somewhere an offence of concealment, it might be
of conspiracy, had been committed against him. It was no business of his
to say more, or to think more. He rested his case simply on the fact,
which could not be denied, and which he was not in the least interested
to have explained, one way or the other. The recollection of Gorringe's
obvious disturbance of mind was especially pleasant to him. He himself
had been magnanimous almost to the point of weakness. He had gone out
of his way to call the man "brother," and to give him an opportunity of
behaving like a gentleman; but his kindly forbearance had been wasted.
Gorringe was not the man to understand generous feelings, much less rise
to their level. He had merely shown that he would be vicious if he knew
how. It was more important and satisfactory to recall that he had also
shown a complete comprehension of the injured husband's grievance. The
fact that he had recognized it was enough--was, in fact, everything.

In the background of his thoughts Theron had carried along a notion of
going and dining with Father Forbes when the time for the evening meal
should arrive. The idea in itself attracted him, as a fitting capstone
to his resolve not to go home to supper. It gave just the right kind
of character to his domestic revolt. But when at last he stood on the
doorstep of the pastorate, waiting for an answer to the tinkle of the