rown open, and she came forth into the
sunshine, Hester Prynne did not flee.

On the outskirts of the town was a small thatched cottage, and there, in
this lonesome dwelling, Hester established herself with her infant
child. Without a friend on earth who dared to show himself, she,
however, incurred no risk of want. She possessed an art that sufficed to
supply food for her thriving infant and herself--the art of needlework.

By degrees her handiwork became what would now be termed the fashion.
She bore on her breast, in the curiously embroidered letter, a specimen
of her skill, and her needlework was seen on the ruff of the governor;
military men wore it on their scarfs, and the minister on his bands.

As time went on, the public attitude to Hester changed. Human nature, to
its credit, loves more readily than it hates. Hester never battled with
the public, but submitted uncomplainingly to its worst usage, and so a
species of general regard had ultimately grown up in reference to her.

Hester had named the infant "Pearl," as being of great price, and little
Pearl grew up a wondrously lovely child, with a strange, lawless
character. At times she seemed rather an airy sprite than human, and
never did she seek to make acquaintance with other children, but was
always Hester's companion in her walks about the town.

At one time some of the leading inhabitants of the place sought to
deprive Hester of her child; and at the governor's mansion, whither
Hester had repaired, with some gloves which she had embroidered at his
order, the matter was discussed in the mother's presence by the governor
and his guests--Mr. John Wilson, Mr. Arthur Dimmesdale, and old Roger
Chillingworth, now established as a physician of great skill in the
town.

"God gave me the child!" cried Hester. "He gave her in requital of all
things else which ye have taken from me. Ye shall not take her! I will
die first! Speak thou for me," she cried turning to the young clergyman,
Mr. Dimmesdale. "Thou wast my pastor. Thou knowest what is in my heart,
and what are a mother's rights, and how much the stronger they are when
that mother has but her child and the scarlet letter! I will not lose
the child! Look to it!"

"There is truth in what she says," began the minister. "God gave her the
child, and there is a quality of awful sacredness between this mother
and this child. It is good for this poor, sinful woman that she hath an
infant confided to her care--to