Sylvia's Lovers

Presently Sylvia came in, bright and cheerful, although breathless

with hurry.

'Oh,' said she, taking off her wet shawl, 'we've had to shelter from

such a storm of rain, baby and me--but see! she's none the worse for

it, as bonny as iver, bless her.' Hester began some speech of admiration for the child in order to

prevent Bell from delivering the lecture she felt sure was coming

down on the unsuspecting Sylvia; but all in vain.

'Philip's been complaining on thee, Sylvie,' said Bell, in the way

in which she had spoken to her daughter when she was a little child;

grave and severe in tone and look, more than in words. 'I forget

justly what about, but he spoke on thy neglecting him continual.

It's not right, my lass, it's not right; a woman should--but my

head's very tired, and all I can think on to say is, it's not

right.' 'Philip been complaining of me, and to mother!' said Sylvia, ready

to burst into tears, so grieved and angry was she.

'No!' said Hester, 'thy mother has taken it a little too strong; he

were vexed like at his tea not being ready.' Sylvia said no more, but the bright colour faded from her cheek, and

the contraction of care returned to her brow. She occupied herself

with taking off her baby's walking things. Hester lingered, anxious

to soothe and make peace; she was looking sorrowfully at Sylvia,

when she saw tears dropping on the baby's cloak, and then it seemed

as if she must speak a word of comfort before going to the

shop-work, where she knew she was expected by both Philip and

Coulson. She poured out a cup of tea, and coming close up to Sylvia,

and kneeling down by her, she whispered,-'Just take him this into t' ware-room; it'll put all to rights if

thou'll take it to him wi' thy own hands.' Sylvia looked up, and Hester then more fully saw how she had been

crying. She whispered in reply, for fear of disturbing her mother,-'I don't mind anything but his speaking ill on me to mother. I know

I'm for iver trying and trying to be a good wife to him, an' it's

very dull work; harder than yo' think on, Hester,--an' I would ha'

been home for tea to-night only I was afeared of baby getting wet

wi' t' storm o' hail as we had down on t' shore; and we sheltered

under a rock. It's a weary coming home to this dark place, and to

find my own mother set against me.' 'Take him his tea, like a good lassie. I'll answer for it he'll be

all right. A man takes it hardly when he comes in tired, a-thinking

his wife '11 be there to cheer him up a bit, to find her off, and

niver know nought of t' reason why.' 'I'm glad enough I've getten a baby,' said Sylvia, 'but for aught

else I wish I'd niver been married, I do!' 'Hush thee, lass!' said Hester, rising up indignant; 'now that is a

sin. Eh! if thou only knew the lot o' some folk. But let's talk no

more on that, that cannot be helped; go, take him his tea, for it's

a sad thing to think on him fasting all this time.' Hester's voice was raised by the simple fact of her change of

position; and the word fasting caught Mrs. Robson's ear, as she sate

at her knitting by the chimney-corner.