She
felt that she could never again face those who had seen her on that
Sunday morning. She shut herself up in her room, refusing to admit any
one, except the servant who waited upon her, and steadily set herself
against any communication with the world outside. Even her husband she
would hardly speak to; and her child she would not see. The strain and
stress of her remorse was more than she could bear. Before the week was
gone, she had fled for forgetfulness to the vice which bound her in so
heavy a chain. All the cunning of her nature, so strangely perverted,
was put into action to procure a supply of the stimulants she craved;
and she escaped from her misery for a little while by losing herself in
suicidal lethargy and stupefaction.
Mr. Chantrey himself felt it to be impossible to meet the gaze of his
usual congregation; he shrank even from walking through the streets of
his own town, while his shame was fresh upon him. He exchanged duties
with fellow-clergymen, and so evaded the immediate difficulty. But he
knew that this could not go on for long.
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