It required a good deal of courage, for she was by nature timid; but by making a duty of it, and assuring herself that his soul's good was her only object, she succeeded in bracing herself up to sufficient virtue for her task. So, feeling there was no time like the present, she spent half an hour in making herself look as attractive as she could in her singing dress--and that had been designed with considerable care for appearances--and set off on her mission. She did not go straight to the minister's house, which stood at the further end of the village--a most incongruous, unhappy-looking villa, such as one sees by dozens in the suburbs of any large town, all stucco, bow windows, and gable ends--for that might have provoked attention. She branched off to the left and so, going up the School Road, was prepared to make her visit on the return journey by going down a pathway which led from the school towards the house. She had often returned from class thus with Mervyn, choosing the longer road for the sake of the handsome boy's company. The thought made her mind drift back to those long years during which she had been taught, and had taught, so many things. What a relief it had been to escape from living by rule; so much time for this, so much time for that; duty punctual as the clock, dependent on the machinery, certain to run down and stop unless it received some continual impetus from without. --'That which cometh from without.'-- The words came back to her vaguely. Yes! she had been taught so many things. What had she herself learnt? How many four shillings' worth of stamps, for instance, had she not saved up herself, or caused her pupils to save up. Every child in the village had a post-office savings' bank book. They had been taught thrift. But every one of the girls would do as she had done--run into debt over their clothes--or at least put their money on their backs. She was tired of it all. She was hungering for her natural work. She wanted to be the wife of some strong man, bear him children, and live immersed in household details. That was her _métier_; she felt drawn to that. So, as she turned in at the back entrance of the minister's house, her heart was soft; she felt in a sentimental mood. The past was past. Most men's lives held something that was not quite--well, quite respectable--but in this case there would be earnest repentance to make that past more--more presentable. And then through the window of the dining-room she saw a group of two people standing, their faces to the fire, their backs towards her; but there could be no doubt as to the skin--tight black sheen of the waist round which Mervyn's arm circled in all the security of possession. It was Myfanwy's--Myfanwy in her best dress also!