She had, however, sent word to the sexton to say that she would be there, and the old man was ready to show her into the family pew.

She wore a thick veil, and was dressed, of course, in all the deep ceremonious woe of widowhood.

As she walked up the centre of the church she thought of her dress, and told herself that all there would know how it had been between her and her husband.

She was pretending to mourn for the man to whom she had sold herself; for the man who through happy chance had died so quickly, leaving her with the price in her hand! All of course knew that, and all thought that they knew, moreover, that she had been foully false to her bargain, and had not earned the price! That, also, she told herself.

But she went through it, and walked out of the church among the village crowd with her head on high.
Three days afterward, she wrote to the clergyman, asking him to call on her.