Sylvia's Lovers

Many desirable objects seemed to be gained by this removal of Alice:

an occupation was provided for Sylvia, which would detain her in the

place where her husband had left her, and where (Jeremiah Foster

fairly expected in spite of his letter) he was likely to come back

to find her; and Alice Rose, the early love of one of the brothers,

the old friend of the other, would be well cared for, and under her

daughter's immediate supervision during the whole of the time that

she was occupied in the shop.

Philip's share of the business, augmented by the money which he had

put in from the legacy of his old Cumberland uncle, would bring in

profits enough to support Sylvia and her child in ease and comfort

until that time, which they all anticipated, when he should return

from his mysterious wandering--mysterious, whether his going forth

had been voluntary or involuntary.

Thus far was settled; and Jeremiah Foster went to tell Sylvia of the

plan.

She was too much a child, too entirely unaccustomed to any

independence of action, to do anything but leave herself in his

hands. Her very confession, made to him the day before, when she

sought his counsel, seemed to place her at his disposal. Otherwise,

she had had notions of the possibility of a free country life once

more--how provided for and arranged she hardly knew; but Haytersbank

was to let, and Kester disengaged, and it had just seemed possible

that she might have to return to her early home, and to her old

life. She knew that it would take much money to stock the farm

again, and that her hands were tied from much useful activity by the

love and care she owed to her baby. But still, somehow, she hoped

and she fancied, till Jeremiah Foster's measured words and

carefully-arranged plan made her silently relinquish her green,

breezy vision.

Hester, too, had her own private rebellion--hushed into submission

by her gentle piety. If Sylvia had been able to make Philip happy,

Hester could have felt lovingly and almost gratefully towards her;

but Sylvia had failed in this.

Philip had been made unhappy, and was driven forth a wanderer into

the wide world--never to come back! And his last words to Hester,

the postscript of his letter, containing the very pith of it, was to

ask her to take charge and care of the wife whose want of love

towards him had uprooted him from the place where he was valued and

honoured.

It cost Hester many a struggle and many a self-reproach before she

could make herself feel what she saw all along--that in everything

Philip treated her like a sister. But even a sister might well be

indignant if she saw her brother's love disregarded and slighted,

and his life embittered by the thoughtless conduct of a wife! Still

Hester fought against herself, and for Philip's sake she sought to

see the good in Sylvia, and she strove to love her as well as to

take care of her.