lt is so strong.'
'That is for a jury to judge.'
'Yes; and if a jury should decide that there had been no Australian
marriage,--which I fear we can hardly hope;--but if a jury were to
decide that, then of course she could go back to him. But while there is
a doubt, I should have thought, Tom, you certainly would have seen it,
even though you never have had a wife of your own.'
'I think I see all that there is to see,' said the other. 'If the poor
lady has been deceived and betrayed, no punishment can be too heavy for
the man who has so injured her. But the very enormity of the iniquity
makes me doubt it. As far as I can judge, Caldigate is a high-spirited,
honest gentleman, to whom the perpetration of so great a sin would
hardly suggest itself.'
'But if,--but if--! Think of her condition, Tom!'
'You would have to think of your own, if you were to attempt to tell her
to leave him.'
'That means that you are afraid of her.'
'It certainly means that I should be very much afraid if I thought of
taking such a liberty. If I believed it to be my duty, I hope that I
would do it.'
'You are her clergyman.'
'Certainly. I christened her child. I preach to her twice every Sunday.
And if she were to die I should bury her.'
'Is that all?'
'Pretty nearly;--except that I generally dine at the house once a week.'
'Is there nothing further confided to you than that?'
'If she were to come to me for advice, then it would be my duty to give
her what advice I thought to be best; and then--'
'Well, then?'
'Then I should have to make up my mind,--which I have not done at
present,--I should have to make up my mind, not as to his guilt, for I
believe him to be innocent, but as to the expediency of a separation
till a jury should have acquitted him. But I am well aware that she
won't come to me; and from little words which constantly drop from her,
I am quite sure that nothing would induce her to leave her husband but a
direct command from himself.'
'You might do it through him.'
'I am equally sure that nothing would induce him to send her away.'
But such a conviction as this was not sufficient for Mr. Smirkie. He was
alive to the fact,--uncomfortably alive to the fact,--that the ordinary
life of gentle-folk in England does not admit of direct clerical
interference. As a country clergyman, he could bestow his admonitions
upon his poorer neighbours; but upon those who were well-to-do he could
not intrude him
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