d. There was no such milliner in all that region as Sarah Newhall.
In autumn and in spring, her little shop at Lonway Four Corners was
crowded with chattering and eager girls, choosing ribbons and hats, and
all deferring to her taste. Now they all passed her by with only a cold
and silent bow. Not one spoke. To Sarah's affectionate, mirth-loving
temperament, this was misery greater than could be expressed. She said
not a word about it, not even to her husband: she bore it as dumb
animals bear pain, seeking only a shelter, a hiding-place; but she
wished herself dead. Jim's share of the punishment had been in some ways
lighter than hers, in others harder. He had less loneliness; but, on the
other hand, by his constant intercourse with men, he was frequently
reminded of the barrier which separated himself and his wife from all
that went on in the village. He had the same mirthful, social
temperament which she had: the thoughtless, childish, pleasure-loving
quality, which they had in common, had been the root of their sin; and
was now the instrument of their suffering. Stronger people could have
borne up better; worse people might have found a certain evil solace in
evil ways and with evil associates: but Jim and Sally were incapable of
any such course; they were simply two utterly broken-spirited and
hopeless children whose punishment had been greater than they could
bear. In a dogged way, because they must live, Jim went on earning a
little money as surveyor and draughtsman. He often talked of going away
into some new far-away place where they could have, as he said, in the
same words Hetty had used, "a fair chance;" but Sally would not go. "It
would not make a bit of difference," she said: "it would be sure to be
found out, and strange folks would despise us even more than our own
folks do; perhaps things will come round right after a while, if we stay
here."

Jim did not insist, for he loved Sally tenderly; and he felt, to the
core of his heart, that the least he could do for her now was to let her
live where she chose to live: but he grew more sullen and dogged, day by
day; and Sally grew sadder and quieter, and things were fast coming to a
bad pass, when Hetty Gunn's generous offer came to them, like a great
rift of sunlight in a black sky.

When Sally sank into the chair sobbing, Hetty made a quick movement
towards her, and was about to speak; but, seeing that old Nan was
hastening to do the same thing, she wisely w