A GOOD CONSCIENCE.
An elegant little carriage, with two sleek and well-fed horses, drew up at Advocate Abel's garden gate.
Neither silver nor any other metal was visible in the harness; everything was a dull black, and all the buckles were leather-covered. In the lacquering of the carriage there was a trace of dark-green; the cushions were of a subdued dust-colour; and only on close inspection could you perceive that the coverings were of the richest silk. The coach-man looked like an English clergyman, in his close buttoned black coat, with a little stand-up collar and stiff white necktie.
Mrs. Warden, who sat alone in the carriage, bent forward and laid her hand upon the ivory door handle; then she slowly alighted, drew her long train after her, and carefully closed the carriage door.
You might have wondered that the coachman did not dismount to help her; the fat horses certainly did not look as though they would play any tricks if he dropped the reins.
