Hester was almost surprised at Sylvia's evident liking for her. By
slow degrees Hester was learning to love the woman, whose position
as Philip's wife she would have envied so keenly had she not been so
truly good and pious. But Sylvia seemed as though she had given
Hester her whole affection all at once. Hester could not understand
this, while she was touched and melted by the trust it implied. For
one thing Sylvia remembered and regretted--her harsh treatment of
Hester the rainy, stormy night on which the latter had come to
Haytersbank to seek her and her mother, and bring them into
Monkshaven to see the imprisoned father and husband. Sylvia had been
struck with Hester's patient endurance of her rudeness, a rudeness
which she was conscious that she herself should have immediately and
vehemently resented. Sylvia did not understand how a totally
different character from hers might immediately forgive the anger
she could not forget; and because Hester had been so meek at the
time, Sylvia, who knew how passing and transitory was her own anger,
thought that all was forgotten; while Hester believed that the
words, which she herself could not have uttered except under deep
provocation, meant much more than they did, and admired and wondered
at Sylvia for having so entirely conquered her anger against her.
Again, the two different women were divergently affected by the
extreme fondness which Bell had shown towards Hester ever since
Sylvia's wedding-day. Sylvia, who had always received more love from
others than she knew what to do with, had the most entire faith in
her own supremacy in her mother's heart, though at times Hester
would do certain things more to the poor old woman's satisfaction.
Hester, who had craved for the affection which had been withheld
from her, and had from that one circumstance become distrustful of
her own power of inspiring regard, while she exaggerated the delight
of being beloved, feared lest Sylvia should become jealous of her
mother's open display of great attachment and occasional preference
for Hester. But such a thought never entered Sylvia's mind. She was
more thankful than she knew how to express towards any one who made
her mother happy; as has been already said, the contributing to Bell
Robson's pleasures earned Philip more of his wife's smiles than
anything else. And Sylvia threw her whole heart into the words and
caresses she lavished on Hester whenever poor Mrs. Robson spoke of
the goodness and kindness of the latter. Hester attributed more
virtue to these sweet words and deeds of gratitude than they
deserved; they did not imply in Sylvia any victory over evil
temptation, as they would have done in Hester.
It seemed to be Sylvia's fate to captivate more people than she
cared to like back again. She turned the heads of John and Jeremiah
Foster, who could hardly congratulate Philip enough on his choice of
a wife.