Foxglove Manor: Vol. III
Reseña del libro "Foxglove Manor: Vol. III"
Sunday, Sept. 19. My wife has gone to church. I can hear the bells ringing in the distance as I write.... Now they cease, and at this very moment the clergyman, "snowy-banded, delicate-handed," is ascending the pulpit stairs, amid the reverent hush of his congregation. Though several times of late she has suggested that a little church-going would do me good, Ellen did not ask me to accompany her on this occasion; indeed, I thought at first that she was going to stay at home herself. At breakfast she was irritable and absent-minded, and she did not dress or order the carriage until the last moment. There was evidently a hard struggle in her mind whether she should go to church or not. Ultimately, she decided to go. Out of this and other unpleasant indications, I have made a discovery. My wife, despite her purity, despite her lofty sense of honour, is jealous of the clergyman.
