Suppose Barker went back to them;
could they ignore what's happened?"
"Of course not," Sewell admitted.
"Well, and should he ask her pardon, or she his?"
"The Socratic method is irresistible," said the minister sadly. "You
have proved that nothing can be done for Barker with the Vanes. And
now the question is, what _can_ be done for him?"
"That's something I must leave to you, David," said his wife
dispiritedly. She arose, and as she passed out of the room she
added, "You will have to find him, in the _first_ place, and
you had better go round to the police stations and the tramps'
lodging-houses and begin looking."
Sewell sighed heavily under the sarcastic advice, but acted upon it,
and set forth upon the useless quest, because he did not know in the
least what else to do.
All that week Barker lay, a lurking discomfort, in his soul, though
as the days passed the burden grew undeniably lighter; Sewell had a
great many things besides Barker to think of. But when Sunday came,
and he rose in his pulpit, he could not help casting a glance of
guilty fear toward Miss Vane's pew and drawing a long breath of
guilty relief not to see Lemuel in it. We are so made, that in the
reaction the minister was able to throw himself into the matter of
his discourse with uncommon fervour. It was really very good matter,
and he felt the literary joy in it which flatters the author even of
a happily worded supplication to the Deity.
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