The String of Pearls (1850), p. 471

"Ah, how can I be otherwise than delighted, when I am assured by such a saint upon earth as yourself that I am one of the elect?"
This was an answer with which, whether it was satisfactory or not, Mr. Lupin was, as it were, compelled to put up with; but taking up his hat, he said—
"Truly, sister Oakley, it will become me to see you a part of the way home."
Mrs. Oakley expressed her satisfaction with the holy man's company, and they both descended the stairs together. She felt, however, an exquisite pang of alarm upon finding that Lupin led her down the staircase that led to the chapel, and not down the one which would have conducted them to the ordinary door of exit from the domestic portion of the building.
But even with all the dread upon her soul that he might be meditating some awful act in the chapel, she felt that she must assume a calmness though she felt it not.
"Why this leads to the chapel," she said. She thought it would sound more natural for her to make that remark, than to say nothing about it.
"Yes, sister it does, and here is the trap-door that conducts to the vaults."
He suddenly turned upon her, and clutched her by the arm, as he spoke.
Poor Mrs. Oakley then really thought that her last hour was come, and that all along in pretending to have no suspicion of her, he was only dissembling. It was a mercy she did not at that terrible moment commit herself in some way. Surely Heaven supported her, for she did not.
"Reverend sir," she said, "what mean you?"
"What mean I? I mean will you descend to the vaults with me?"
"And pray? Yes, if you wish it."
"Nothing—nothing," muttered Lupin. "What a fool I am. I might have been well convinced long ago, and yet I cannot forbear new trials. All is safe, all is safe. This way, sister Oakley, this way. I will only see you to the corner of your own street."
"Many thanks."
They both emerged from the chapel. Lupin slammed the door after him, and arm in arm they walked up the court together.
Poor Mrs. Oakley felt that to be the most trying moment of all for her nerves. While she had much to do—while she was alone with Lupin in the domestic portion of the chapel, and while she knew that the least slip of the tongue, or the least want of control over her feelings might be her death—she conducted herself gallantly; but now when she was fairly in the open air, I now that she was in comparative safety, her feelings almost got the better of her. It was only by a powerful effort that she could at all control them.
She felt that by suddenly quitting the arm of Lupin, and making a rush for it, she might escape him, but then she did not want him to escape the consequences of his crime, for Mrs, Oakley had a woman's sympathy with the fate even of the not very respectable Mrs. Lupin. Besides, with all the vindictive hate that he might be supposed to feel upon finding that his guilt was known, he might yet pursue her, and before she could find aid, kill her.
"I must still dissemble," she thought, "and speak this most monstrous villain fairly."
"Quite a charming morning, reverend sir," she said.
"Very," said Lupin.
"I really am afraid that I am sadly intruding upon you: time, by letting you come with me."
"Oh, no—no—no."
He seemed to be getting very thoughtful, and Mrs. Oakley was portionably more and more u^on UJr, guard, for she felt convinced that if he really thought she knew anything of his guilt he would kill her.
Now they emerged from the court; but it was yet rather an early hour in