y day and by night;
but now I ask yo', if yo've any pity for me for what I went through,
or if yo've any love for me because of yo'r dead mother's love for
me, or because of any fellowship, or daily breadliness between us
two,--put the hard thoughts of Philip away from out yo'r heart; he
may ha' done yo' wrong, anyway yo' think that he has; I niver knew
him aught but kind and good; but if he comes back from wheriver in
th' wide world he's gone to (and there's not a night but I pray God
to keep him, and send him safe back), yo' put away the memory of
past injury, and forgive it all, and be, what yo' can be, Sylvia, if
you've a mind to, just the kind, good wife he ought to have.'

'I cannot; yo' know nothing about it, Hester.'

'Tell me, then,' pleaded Hester.

'No!' said Sylvia, after a moment's hesitation; 'I'd do a deal for
yo', I would, but I daren't forgive Philip, even if I could; I took
a great oath again' him. Ay, yo' may look shocked at me, but it's
him as yo' ought for to be shocked at if yo' knew all. I said I'd
niver forgive him; I shall keep to my word.'

'I think I'd better pray for his death, then,' said Hester,
hopelessly, and almost bitterly, loosing her hold of Sylvia's hands.

'If it weren't for baby theere, I could think as it were my death as
'ud be best. Them as one thinks t' most on, forgets one soonest.'

It was Kinraid to whom she was alluding; but Hester did not
understand her; and after standing for a moment in silence, she
kissed her, and left her for the night.

CHAPTER XL

AN UNEXPECTED MESSENGER

After this agitation, and these partial confidences, no more was
said on the subject of Philip for many weeks. They avoided even the
slightest allusion to him; and none of them knew how seldom or how
often he might be present in the minds of the others.

One day the little Bella was unusually fractious with some slight
childish indisposition, and Sylvia was obliged to have recourse to a
never-failing piece of amusement; namely, to take the child into the
shop, when the number of new, bright-coloured articles was sure to
beguile the little girl out of her fretfulness. She was walking
along the high terrace of the counter, kept steady by her mother's
hand, when Mr. Dawson's market-cart once more stopped before the
door. But it was not Mrs. Brunton who alighted now; it was a very
smartly-dressed, very pretty young lady, who put one dainty foot
before the other with care, as if desc