He expected to find her exhausted by the excitement of the patriarch's
visit; but, in fact, she was more composed than he had seen her yet since
his father's death. Her eyes indeed, commonly so sober in their
expression, were bright with a kind of rapture which puzzled Orion.
Had she been thinking of his father? Could the patriarch have succeeded
in inspiring her pious fervor to such a pitch, that it had carried her,
so to speak, out of herself?

She was dressed to go to church, and after expressing her delight at the
honor done to herself and her whole household by the prelate's visit, she
invited Orion to accompany her. Though he had proposed devoting the next
few hours to a different purpose, the dutiful son at once acceded to this
wish; he helped her into her chariot, bid the driver go slowly, and
seated himself by her side.

As they drove along he asked her what she had told the patriarch, and her
replies might have reassured him but that she filled him with grave
anxiety on fresh grounds. Her mind seemed to have suffered under the
stress of grief. It was usually so clear, so judicious, so reasonable;
and now all she said was incoherent and not more than half intelligible.
Still, one thing he distinctly understood: that she had not confided to
the patriarch the fact of his father's curse. The prelate must certainly
have censured the conduct of the deceased to her also and that had sealed
her lips. She complained to her son that Benjamin had never understood
her lost husband, and that she had felt compelled to repress her desire
to disclose everything to him. Nowhere but in church, in the very
presence of the Redeemer, could she bring herself to allow him to read
her heart as it were an open book. A voice had warned her that in the
house of God alone, could she find salvation for herself and her son;