s being bad. There is not one
among us fit to sweep the lowest step of God's throne. But they who are
His people shall be made bright enough to sit round His feet. May the
time come when you, my darling, shall be restored to the fold.' The poor
young wife by this time had acknowledged to herself the mistake she had
made in thus coming to her mother after her marriage. She now was of
course in that ecstatic phase of existence which makes one's own self
altogether subordinate to the self of another person. That her husband
should be happy constituted her hope of happiness; that he should be
comfortable, her comfort. If he were thought worthy, that would be her
worthiness; or if he were good, that would be her goodness. And even as
to those higher, more distant aspirations, amidst which her mother was
always dwelling, she would take no joy for herself which did not include
him. The denunciations against him which were so plainly included even
in her mother's blessings and prayers for herself, did not frighten her
on behalf of the man to whom she had devoted herself. She could see the
fanaticism and fury of her mother's creed. But she could not escape from
the curse of the moment. When that last imprecation was made by the
woman, with her hands folded and her eyes turned up to heaven, Hester
could only bury her face on her mother's knees and weep. 'When that time
comes, and I know it will come, you shall return to me, and once more be
my child,' said the mother.

'You do not mean that I shall leave my husband?'

'Who can tell? If you do, and I am living, you shall be my child. Till
then we must be apart. How can it be otherwise? Can I give my cheek to a
man to be kissed, and call him my son, when I think that he has robbed
me of my only treasure?'

This was so terrible that the daughter could only hang around her
mother's neck, sobbing and kissing her at the same time, and then go
without another word. She was sure of this,--that if she must lose one
or the other, her mother or her husband, then she would lose her mother.
When she returned to The Nurseries, her husband, according to agreement
came out to her at once. She had bidden adieu to all the others; but at
the last moment her father put his hand into the carriage, so that she
could take it and kiss it. 'Mamma is so sad,' she said to him; 'go home
to her and comfort her.' Of course the old man did go home, but he was
aware that there would for some time be little co