SIR LYOLF. So it seems Mrs. Lesden has come down from town.
SIR LYOLF (_MICHAEL is listening intently_). I thought we had seen the last of her when the long-lost husband returned and took her off to London. By the way, what has become of her husband?
MARK. He only stayed three weeks in England. It is said that she has pensioned him off--he is to keep to his hemisphere, and she is to keep to hers.
SIR LYOLF. I don't like women who pension off their husbands to live in South America.
MARK. Not much. About every two months she sweeps into church in a whirlwind of finery and perfume, gives me a ridiculously large sum for the offertory, makes some most irreverent joke, or else pretends to be deeply religious----
MARK. What can it be but pretence? Look at her life this last year.
MARK. It has been one continual round of gaiety and excitement except when she was ill.
MARK. She goes everywhere, gives the most extravagant parties, mixes with the fastest, emptiest, London set. And she has taken for her companion a silly, flighty little woman, Mrs. Cantelo.
SIR LYOLF. I don't like it! Why has she come back to Cleveheddon just now?
MARK. To be present at the dedication service to-morrow, I suppose.
SIR LYOLF. You know that everybody is asking where all the money came from for these magnificent restorations?
MICH. It was sent to me anonymously. The giver wishes to remain unknown.
SIR LYOLF. Yes! Yes! That's what you've told us. But of course you know who it is?
MICH. Let's say no more. I'm glad you came here to-night. I've been very much perplexed by a confession that has been made to me recently. A priest--you know him, Mark--he is to be present to-morrow--a priest some time ago discovered one of his people in a course of lying and deception, and insisted upon a very severe penalty from the man. And now the priest tells me, that in order to save one very dear to him, he himself has lately been practising exactly the same course of lying and deception. He came to me for advice. I said, "You must pay exactly the same penalty that you demanded from your parishioner." But he objects--he says it will bring disgrace on his family, and disgrace on our cloth. He urged all manner of excuses, but I wouldn't listen to him. He wishes to be present at the dedication service to-morrow. I've refused him. Have I done right?