luence is permanent with me; many, all have been tried; and the
evil that is in me gets the better of them all at last."

She snatched her hand from her lover's, and covered her face to hide her
tears.

"I shall not contradict you, Hester," said he, tenderly, "because you
will only abase yourself the more in your own eyes. But tell me again--
where is your faith, while you let spectres from the past glide over
into the future, to terrify you? I say `you' and not `us,' because I am
not terrified. I fear nothing. I trust you, and I trust Him who
brought us together, and moved you to lay open your honest heart to me."

"My sick heart, Edward. It is sick with fear. I thought I had got over
it. I thought you had cured it; and that now, on this day, of all days,
I should have been full of your spirit--of the spirit which made me so
happy a few weeks ago, that I was sure I should never fall back again.
But I am disappointed in myself, Edward--wholly disappointed in myself.
I have often been so before, but this time it is fatal. I shall never
make you happy, Edward."

"Neither God nor man requires it of you, Hester. Dismiss it--."

"Oh, hear me!" cried Hester, in great agitation. "I vowed to devote
myself to my father's happiness, when my mother died; I promised to
place the most absolute confidence in him. I failed. I fancied
miserable things. I fancied he loved Margaret better; and that I was
not necessary to him; and I was too proud, too selfish, to tell him so:
and when he was dying, and commended Margaret and me to each other--Oh,
so solemnly!--I am sure it was in compassion to me--and I shrank from
it, even at that moment. When we came here, and Margaret and I felt
ourselves alone among strangers, we promised the same confidence I vowed
to my father. The next thing was--perhaps you saw it--I grew jealous of
Margaret's having another friend, though Maria was as ready to be my
friend as hers, if I had only been worthy of it. Up to this hour--at
this very moment, I believe I am jealous of Maria--and with Margaret
before my eyes--Margaret, who loves me as her own soul, and yet has
never felt one moment's jealousy of you, I am certain, if her heart was
known."

"We will rejoice, then, in Margaret's peace of mind, the reward of her
faith."

"Oh, so I do! I bless God that she is rewarded, better than by me. But
you see how it is. You see how I poison every one's life. I never made
anybody happy! I ne