"What has occurred to John is not owing to any fault of his." In his own mind the good man excused himself by saying that John could not have helped falling in love with Mrs.Goddard.
But his wife turned quickly upon him.
"That does not prevent what has occurred to him, as you call it, from being good, or more likely bad, to judge from his looks." "My dear," said Mr.Ambrose, driven to bay, "I entirely decline to discuss the point." "I thought you trusted me, Augustin." "So I do--certainly--and I always consult you about my own affairs." "I think I have as much right to know about John as you have," retorted his wife, who seemed deeply hurt.
"That is a point then which you ought to settle with John," said the vicar.

"I cannot betray his confidence, even to you." "Oh--then he has been making confidences to you ?" "How in the world should I know about his affairs unless he told me ?" "One may see a great many things without being told about them, you know," answered Mrs.Ambrose, assuming a prim expression as she examined a small spot in the tablecloth.

The vicar was walking up and down the room.

Her speech, which was made quite at random, startled him.

She, too, might easily have observed John's manner when he was with Mrs.Goddard; she might have guessed the secret, and have put her own interpretation on John's sudden melancholy.
"What may one see ?" asked the vicar quickly.
"I did not say one could see anything," answered his wife.