undeniable while she was walking back to the
orchard: but it so happened that Hester's hand hung by her side, as she
stood looking up at the apple-tree, unaware that Margaret had left the
party. Margaret could not resist seizing the hand, and pressing it with
so much silent emotion, such a glance of joy, as threw Hester into a
state of wonder and expectation. Not a syllable could she extort from
Margaret, either on the spot or afterwards, when summoned to tea.
Whether it was on account of Mr Hope's return to the house, she could
not satisfy herself. She had sat, conscious and inwardly distressed, at
the tea-table, where nothing remarkable had occurred; and was glad to
escape from the circle where all that was said appeared to her excited
spirit to be tiresome, or trifling, or vexatious.

How different was it all when she returned to the house! How she loved
the whole world, and no one in it was dull, and nothing was trifling,
and it was out of the power of circumstances to vex her! Life had
become heaven: its doubts, its cares, its troubles, were gone, and all
had given place to a soul-penetrating joy. She should grow perfect now,
for she had one whom she believed perfect to lead her on. Her pride,
her jealousy, would trouble her no more: it was for want of sympathy--
perfect sympathy always at hand--that she had been a prey to them. She
should pine no more, for there was one who was her own. A calm,
nameless, all-pervading bliss had wrapped itself round her spirit, and
brought her as near to her Maker as if she had been his favoured child.
There needs no other proof that happiness is the most wholesome moral
atmosphere, and that in which the immortality of man is destined
ultimately to thrive, than the elevation of soul, the religious
aspiration, which attends the first assurance, the first sober
certainty, of true love. There is much of this religious aspiration
amidst all warmth of virtuous affections. There is a vivid love of God
in the child that lays its cheek against the cheek of its mother, and
clasps its arms about her neck. God is thanked (perhaps unconsciously)
for the brightness of his earth, on summer evenings, when a brother and
sister, who have long been parted, pour out their heart stores to each
other, and feel their course of thought brightening as it runs. When
the aged parent hears of the honours his children have won, or looks
round upon their innocent faces as the glory of his decline,