r widow
bewitched, left wi' a child as I mustn't speak a word about, an'
living wi' folk as talk about t' old Adam as if he wasn't dead and
done wi' long ago! It's a change, Sylvia, as makes my heart ache for
yo', to think on them old days when yo' were so thought on yo' might
have had any man, as Brunton often says; it were a great mistake as
yo' iver took up wi' yon man as has run away. But seven year '11
soon be past fro' t' time he went off, and yo'll only be
six-and-twenty then; and there'll be a chance of a better husband
for yo' after all, so keep up yo'r heart, Sylvia.'

Molly Brunton had put as much venom as she knew how into this
speech, meaning it as a vengeful payment for the supposition of her
being thirty, even more than for the reproof for her angry words
about the child. She thought that Alice Rose must be either mother
or aunt to Philip, from the serious cast of countenance that was
remarkable in both; and she rather exulted in the allusion to a
happier second marriage for Sylvia, with which she had concluded her
speech. It roused Alice, however, as effectually as if she had been
really a blood relation to Philip; but for a different reason. She
was not slow to detect the intentional offensiveness to herself in
what had been said; she was indignant at Sylvia for suffering the
words spoken to pass unanswered; but in truth they were too much in
keeping with Molly Brunton's character to make as much impression on
Sylvia as they did on a stranger; and besides, she felt as if the
less reply Molly received, the less likely would it be that she
would go on in the same strain. So she coaxed and chattered to her
child and behaved like a little coward in trying to draw out of the
conversation, while at the same time listening attentively.

'As for Sylvia Hepburn as was Sylvia Robson, she knows my mind,'
said Alice, in grim indignation. 'She's humbling herself now, I
trust and pray, but she was light-minded and full of vanity when
Philip married her, and it might ha' been a lift towards her
salvation in one way; but it pleased the Lord to work in a different
way, and she mun wear her sackcloth and ashes in patience. So I'll
say naught more about her. But for him as is absent, as thee hast
spoken on so lightly and reproachfully, I'd have thee to know he
were one of a different kind to any thee ever knew, I reckon. If he
were led away by a pretty face to slight one as was fitter for him,
and who had loved him as