not have expected to meet her here; and his
discomposure was obvious. He looked thin, and grave,--not to say
subdued. Hester was surprised to find how she relented towards him, the
moment she saw he was not gay and careless, and how her feelings grew
softer and softer under the religious emotions of the hour. She was so
near forgiving him, that she was very glad Margaret was not by her side.
If she could forgive, how would it be with Margaret?

The next most melancholy person present, perhaps, was Mr Walcot. He
knew that the whole family of the Rowlands remained in Deerbrook from
Mrs Rowland's ostentation of confidence in his skill. He knew that Mr
Rowland would have removed his family when the Greys departed, but that
the lady had refused to go; and he felt how groundless was her
confidence: not that he had pretended to more professional merit than he
had believed himself to possess; but that, amidst this disease, he was
like a willow-twig in the stream. He became so impressed with his
responsibilities now, in the presence of the small and sad-faced
congregation, that he could not refrain from whispering to Hester, that
he could never be thankful enough that Mr Hope had not left Deerbrook
long ago, and that he hoped they should be friends henceforth,--that Mr
Hope would take his proper place again, and forgive and forget all that
had passed. He thought he might trust Mr Hope not to desert him and
Deerbrook now. Hester smiled gently, but made no reply, and did not
appear to notice the proffered hand. It was no time or place to ratify
a compact for her husband in his absence. All this time, Mr Walcot's
countenance and manner were sufficiently subdued: but his agitation
increased when the solemn voice of Dr Levitt uttered the prayer--

"Have pity upon us, miserable sinners, who now are visited with great
sickness and mortality."

Here the voice of weeping became so audible from the lower part of the
church, that the preacher stopped for a moment, to give other people,
and possibly himself, time to recover composure. He then went on--

"That, like as Thou didst then accept of an atonement, and didst command
the destroying angel to cease from punishing, so it may now please thee
to withdraw from us this plague and grievous sickness; through Jesus
Christ, our Lord."

Every voice in the church uttered `Amen,' except Mr Walcot's. He was
struggling with his sobs. Unexpected and excessive as were the tokens
of