"I erm..." How was he going to explain this without it becoming very uncomfortable? "I don't have the permission, Father Kemble does. He's the head priest now." It was not a lie, though it was not the full truth. In many parishes all priests could hear confessions.

She sighed and moved to sit back down at a pew, looking tired. Her head dipped forward and she placed a hand on her cheek. This was a conundrum, she thought. She needed to confess and get it off of her chest, but not with Kemble! She peered at Gabriel with confusion. "But why?"

The boy had carried the last few things into the sacristy and left. Gabriel sat down in the pew behind Karen. "It... was deemed better by the bishop." The bishop had disliked Gabriel's approach even before his crisis, but Gabriel doubted that his permission to hear confessions had been withdrawn to spite him. Hearing confessions was a heavy responsibility, that required spiritual stability. Had it not been hearing Crane's confession that had initiated his crisis? "Hearing confessions is a grave responsibility, and requires a special permission. The bishop withdrew mine for the time being, and it is not my place to question his discernment."

"I see," she said softly. Her mouth curled downward. She didn't understand this at all. She let her head fall forward a little and swallowed back her disappointment. "When did you come back?"

"The day before yesterday," he said. He felt sorry to see her so downcast and wished he could do something to help. "I'm sorry I've been away. I had some... urgent matters that called me away. But I trust father Kemble has been a satisfying replacement. He has far more experience than I."

She wanted to shake her head, but she would not speak ill about someone she'd only heard about and not seen directly other than a mass or two. "I wouldn't know," she said honestly enough that she didn't feel guilty about it.

So she hadn't dealt much with Kemble at all. Had she been to church at all? Well, perhaps recovering from childbirth had taken longer than usual. "You know," he began slowly, "confession isn't about the priest. He's the mere channel. Of course, the priest may give advice on how to avoid sinning in the future, but in essence, it's about forgiveness, and not mine or father Kemble's but God's. Father Kemble is as much a channel as I am."

"Things have been..." she stopped herself and shook her head, "I haven't been here since before the babes were born. Added to that, I have gotten into some trouble and had to leave me home for a new one. I haven't had a chance to be here in a time and for that, I feel bad." She bowed her head forward, "But I don't know him like I know ye. I don't trust him, I trust ye." She bit into her lower lip then.
She looked upset.

It was as he had expected. "We can always start again when we've done wrong," he said. He watched her. She seemed tormented by something and he wished that he could help her. "We can talk about what troubles you, though it isn't a substitute for confession. I cannot absolve you." But perhaps he could lower the threshold to confession, and offer her the counselling she might not easily accept from Kemble. Father Kemble wouldn't like him to do any of the pastoral talks either, and Gabriel wanted to obey, but this woman seemed to be in agony. Was it not justified to the Sabbath in order to save an ox from of a pit?

She hesitated at first, then nodded slowly. Karen swallowed heavily and then said in a small voice, "I got lonely and fancied meself in love with the clockmaker. We were goin' to elope and we... sinned together. But he left me before we made it to the church, both the babes and I were stranded in Gretna Green for a day or two... Me brother hates me now because me husband wasn't in the ground for a year, he said I was bad for thinkin' I loved another. But I didn't love Frederick, I learned I was just so vera lonely. I feel so vera badly fer... sinnin' with him when I miss Harold so dearly."