itation nor irksomeness. She never battled with the public, but
submitted, uncomplainingly, to its worst usage; she made no claim upon
it, in requital for what she suffered; she did not weigh upon its
sympathies. Then, also, the blameless purity of her life during all
these years in which she had been set apart to infamy, was reckoned
largely in her favor. With nothing now to lose, in the sight of
mankind, and with no hope, and seemingly no wish, of gaining anything,
it could only be a genuine regard for virtue that had brought back the
poor wanderer to its paths.

[Illustration: Hester in the House of Mourning]

It was perceived, too, that while Hester never put forward even the
humblest title to share in the world's privileges,--further than to
breathe the common air, and earn daily bread for little Pearl and
herself by the faithful labor of her hands,--she was quick to
acknowledge her sisterhood with the race of man, whenever benefits
were to be conferred. None so ready as she to give of her little
substance to every demand of poverty; even though the bitter-hearted
pauper threw back a gibe in requital of the food brought regularly to
his door, or the garments wrought for him by the fingers that could
have embroidered a monarch's robe. None so self-devoted as Hester,
when pestilence stalked through the town. In all seasons of calamity,
indeed, whether general or of individuals, the outcast of society at
once found her place. She came, not as a guest, but as a rightful
inmate, into the household that was darkened by trouble; as if its
gloomy twilight were a medium in which she was entitled to hold
intercourse with her fellow-creatures. There glimmered the embroidered
letter, with comfort in its unearthly ray. Elsewhere the token of sin,
it was the taper of the sick-chamber. It had even thrown its gleam, in
the sufferer's hard extremity, across the verge of time. It had shown
him where to set his foot, while the light of earth was fast becoming
dim, and ere the light of futurity could reach him. In such
emergencies, Hester's nature showed itself warm and rich; a
well-spring of human tenderness, unfailing to every real demand, and
inexhaustible by the largest. Her breast, with its badge of shame, was
but the softer pillow for the head that needed one. She was
self-ordained a Sister of Mercy; or, we may rather say, the world's
heavy hand had so ordained her, when neither the world nor she looked
forward to this result.