“I think she defies you to say an honest word on his behalf. Your silence must seem to her an acknowledgment that she is right.”

“That cannot be, after what I said to her in her own house.”

“Then at least she must think that either you have no authority to drive from the little temple one of the cows of Bashan, or are afraid of her horns.”

“Quite right, Nelly!” cried the rector. “You are quite right. Only you don’t give me a hint what to do!”

“Am I not saying as plain as I can that you must preach at her?”

“Hmm! I didn’t expect that of you!”

“A public scandal requires public attention. She has put herself before the people. She is brazen and must be treated as brazen—set in the full glare of opinion. It is all very well to make such a clamour about her boy,” continued his wife, “but everyone knows that she quarrelled with him dreadfully—that for days at a time they would be cat and dog with each other. Her animal instinct lasted it out, and she did not come to hate him. But I can’t help thinking it must have been in a great measure because her husband favoured the other that she took up this one with such passion. I have been told she would abuse him in language not fit to repeat, the little wretch answering her back, and choking with rage that he could not tear her.”

“Who told you?” asked the parson.

“I would rather not say.”

“Are you sure it is not mere gossip?”

“Quite sure. To be gossip, a thing must go through two mouths at least, and I had it first-mouth. I tell it you because I think it worth your knowing.”

The next Sunday there sat the lady as usual with her novel. When the curate went into the pulpit he cast one glance at the gallery to his right, then spoke:

“My friends, I will follow the example of our Lord and speak to you today in a parable. The Lord said there are things better said through parable because of the eyes that will not see and the ears that will not hear.