belonged to her poor husband.

'You keep them clean out of respect to his memory?' said Stockdale
tentatively.

'I air and dust them sometimes,' she said, with the most charming
innocence in the world.

'Do dead men come out of their graves and walk in mud?' murmured the
minister, in a cold sweat at the deception that she was practising.

'What did you say?' asked Lizzy.

'Nothing, nothing,' said he mournfully. 'Mere words--a phrase that will
do for my sermon next Sunday.' It was too plain that Lizzy was unaware
that he had seen actual pedestrian splashes upon the skirts of the tell-
tale overcoat, and that she imagined him to believe it had come direct
from some chest or drawer.

The aspect of the case was now considerably darker. Stockdale was so
much depressed by it that he did not challenge her explanation, or
threaten to go off as a missionary to benighted islanders, or reproach
her in any way whatever. He simply parted from her when she had done
talking, and lived on in perplexity, till by degrees his natural manner
became sad and constrained.

CHAPTER IV--AT THE TIME OF THE NEW MOON

The following Thursday was changeable, damp, and gloomy; and the night
threatened to be windy and unpleasant. Stockdale had gone away to
Knollsea in the morning, to be present at some commemoration service
there, and on his return he was met by the attractive Lizzy in the
passage. Whether influenced by the tide of cheerfulness which had
attended him that day, or by the drive through the open air, or whether
from a natural disposition to let bygones alone, he allowed himself to be
fascinated into forgetfulness of the greatcoat incident, and upon the
whole passed a pleasant evening; not so much in her society as within
sound of her voice, as she sat talking in the back parlour to her mother,
till the latter went to bed. Shortly after this Mrs. Newberry retired,
and then Stockdale prepared to go upstairs himself. But before he left
the room he remained standing by the dying embers awhile, thinking long
of one thing and another; and was only aroused by the flickering of his
candle in the socket as it suddenly declined and went out. Knowing that
there were a tinder-box, matches, and another candle in his bedroom, he
felt his way upstairs without a light. On reaching his chamber he laid
his hand on every possible ledge and corner for the tinderbox, but for a
long time in vain. Discovering it at length, Stockdale p