Her bad wisdom was not the result of experience, though she had had enough of it, but the product of an instinct which was just as acute, and true, and serviceable, ten years earlier in her life as it was then.

She timed the walk to her purpose; and when Mr.Belcher parted with her, he went back leisurely to his great house, more discontented with his wife than he had ever been.
To find such beauty, such helpfulness, such sympathy, charity, forbearance, and sensitiveness, all combined in one woman, and that woman kind and confidential toward him, brought back to him the days of his youth, in the excitement of a sentiment which he had supposed was lost beyond recall.
He crossed the street on arriving at his house, and took an evening survey of his grand mansion, whose lights were still flaming through the windows.

The passengers jostled him as he looked up at his dwelling, his thoughts wandering back to the woman with whom he had so recently parted.
He knew that his heart was dead toward the woman who awaited his return.
He felt that it was almost painfully alive toward the one he had left behind him, and it was with the embarrassment of conscious guilt that he rang the bell at his own door, and stiffened himself to meet the honest woman who had borne his children.

Even the graceless touch of an intriguing woman's power--even the excitement of something like love toward one who was unworthy of his love--had softened him, so that his conscience could move again.

He felt that his eyes bore a secret, and he feared that his wife could read it.