Eighteen months later…
Tobias sat on the sofa contentedly sipping his wine, pleasantly weary after a full remit of parish ministering. Leaning back, he surveyed the cozy domestic scene before him.
His dear wife, Lucy was finishing the last of the household sewing for the day, her hair gleaming softly in the lamplight. Meanwhile, their baby son of nearly five months gurgled and cooed to himself in his cot, having just been fed.
As he did every evening about this time, Tobias took another mouthful of wine and counted his many blessings.
He reflected that after he and Lucy had been caught virtually in flagrante by Mr. Eels, his interfering and morally superior churchwarden (on the vicarage settle, no less), Tobias had grasped the nettle, as such, and had directly accompanied Lucy back to
