The conviction of other people's sin is sometimes a very pleasing emotion, so she bade her guest good-by with much cordiality and even pulled the skirt of her habit straight, and gave the gray a lump of sugar.
Helen told John of the scene under the lilacs, as they trotted down the lane to the highway, but his mood was too grave to see any humor in it.
Indeed, his frame of mind had changed after he left his wife for his second sermon.

The exhilaration and triumph had gone, and the reaction had come.

He brooded over his sin, and the harassed, distressed look of the last few days settled down again on his face.

But Helen had regained her sweet serenity and content; she felt so certain that the darkness since Thursday had been the shadow in which his sermon had been conceived that her relief brought a joy which obscured any thought of regret that he should hold such views.
John's head was bent, and his hands were clasped upon his saddle-bow, while the reins fell loosely from between his listless fingers.
"You are so tired, John," Helen said regretfully.
He sighed, as though rousing himself from thought.

"A little, dearest," and then his sorrowful eyes smiled.