HesterPrynnewasnowfullysensibleofthedeepinjuryforwhichshewasresponsibletothisunhappyman，inpermittinghimtolieforsomanyyears，or，indeed，forasinglemoment，atthemercyofonewhosepurposescouldnotbeotherthanmalevolent。Theverycontiguityofhisenemy，beneathwhatevermaskthelattermightconcealhimself，wasenoughtodisturbthemagneticsphereofabeingsosensitiveasArthurDimmesdale。TherehadbeenaperiodwhenHesterwaslessalivetothisconsideration；or，perhaps，inthemisanthropyofherowntrouble，shelefttheministertobearwhatshemightpicturetoherselfasamoretolerabledoom。Butoflate，sincethenightofhisvigil，allhersympathiestowardshimhadbeenbothsoftenedandinvigorated。Shenowreadhisheartmoreaccurately。Shedoubtednot，thatthecontinualpresenceofRogerChillingworththesecretpoisonofhismalignity，infectingalltheairabouthim—andhisauthorisedinterference，asaphysician，withtheminister’sphysicalandspiritualinfirmities—thatthesebadopportunitieshadbeenturnedtoacruelpurpose。Bymeansofthem，thesufferer’sconsciencehadbeenkeptinanirritatedstate，thetendencyofwhichwas，nottocurebywholesomepain，buttodisorganiseandcorrupthisspiritualbeing。Itsresult，onearth，couldhardlyfailtobeinsanity，andhereafter，thateternalalienationfromtheGoodandTrue，ofwhichmadnessisperhapstheearthlytype。
　　Suchwastheruintowhichshehadbroughttheman，once—nay，whyshouldwenotspeakit？—stillsopassionatelyloved！Hesterfeltthatthesacrificeoftheclergyman’sgoodname，anddeathitself，asshehadalreadytoldRogerChillingworth，wouldhavebeeninfinitelypreferabletothealternativewhichshehadtakenuponherselftochoose。Andnow，ratherthanhavehadthisgrievouswrongtoconfess，shewouldgladlyhavelaindownontheforest—leaves，anddiedthere，atArthurDimmesdale’sfeet。
　　"OArthur，"criedshe，"forgiveme！Inallthingselse，Ihavestriventobetrue！TruthwastheonevirtuewhichImighthaveheldfast，anddidholdfast，throughallextremity；savewhenthygood—
　　thylifethyfame—wereputinquestion！ThenIconsentedtoadeception。Butalieisnevergood，eventhoughdeaththreatenontheotherside！DostthounotseewhatIwouldsay？Thatoldman！—thephysician！—hewhomtheycallRogerChillingworth！—hewasmyhusband！"
　　Theministerlookedather，foraninstant，withallthatviolenceofpassion，which—intermixed，inmoreshapesthanone，withhishigher，purer，softerqualities—was，infact，theportionofhimwhichtheDevilclaimed，andthroughwhichhesoughttowintherest。NeverwasthereablackerorafiercerfrownthanHesternowencountered。Forthebriefspacethatitlasted，itwasadarktransfiguration。Buthischaracterhadbeensomuchenfeebledbysuffering，thatevenitslowerenergieswereincapableofmorethanatemporarystruggle。Hesankdownontheground，andburiedhisfaceinhishands。
　　"Imighthaveknownit，"murmuredhe。"Ididknowit！Wasnotthesecrettoldme，inthenaturalrecoilofmyheart，atthefirstsightofhim，andasoftenasIhaveseenhimsince？WhydidInotunderstand？OHesterPrynne，thoulittle，littleknowestallthehorrorofthisthing！Andtheshame！—theindelicacy！—thehorribleuglinessofthisexposureofasickandguiltyhearttotheveryeyethatwouldgloatoverit？Woman，woman，thouareaccountableforthis！
　　Icannotforgivethee！"
　　"Thoushaltforgiveme！"criedHester，flingingherselfonthefallenleavesbesidehim。"LetGodpunish！Thoushaltforgive！"
　　Withsuddenanddesperatetenderness，shethrewherarmsaroundhim，andpressedhisheadagainstherbosom；littlecaringthoughhischeekrestedonthescarletletter。Hewouldhavereleasedhimself，butstroveinvaintodoso。Hesterwouldnotsethimfree，lestheshouldlookhersternlyintheface。Alltheworldhadfrownedonher—forsevenlongyearshaditfrowneduponthislonelywoman—andstillsheboreitall，noreveronceturnedawayherfirm，sadeyes。Heaven，likewise，hadfrowneduponher，andshehadnotdied。Butthefrownofthispale，weak，sinful，andsorrow—strickenmanwaswhatHestercouldnotbear，andlive！
　　"Wiltthouyetforgiveme？"sherepeated，overandoveragain。"Wiltthounotfrown？Wiltthouforgive？"
　　"Idoforgiveyou，Hester，"repliedtheminister，atlength，withadeeputterance，outofanabyssofsadness，butnoanger。"I
　　freelyforgiveyounow。MayGodforgiveusboth！Wearenot，Hester，theworstsinnersintheworld。Thereisoneworsethaneventhepollutedpriest！Thatoldman’srevengehasbeenblackerthanmysin。Hehasviolated，incoldblood，thesanctityofahumanheart。
　　ThouandI，Hester，neverdidso！"
　　"Never，never！"whisperedshe。"Whatwedidhadaconsecrationofitsown。Wefeltitso！Wesaidsotoeachother！Hastthouforgottenit？"
　　"Hush，Hester！"saidArthurDimmesdale，risingfromtheground。"No；
　　Ihavenotforgotten！"
　　Theysatdownagain，sidebyside，andhandclaspedinhand，onthemossytrunkofthefallentree。Lifehadneverbroughtthemagloomierhour；itwasthepointwhithertheirpathwayhadsolongbeentending，anddarkeningever，asitstolealong；andyetitenclosedacharmthatmadethemlingeruponit，andclaimanother，andanother，and，afterall，anothermoment。Theforestwasobscurearoundthem，andcreakedwithablastthatwaspassingthroughit。Theboughsweretossingheavilyabovetheirheads；whileonesolemnoldtreegroaneddolefullytoanother，asiftellingthesadstoryofthepairthatsatbeneath，orconstrainedtoforbodeeviltocome。
　　Andyettheylingered。Howdrearylookedtheforest—trackthatledbackwardtothesettlement，whereHesterPrynnemusttakeupagaintheburdenofherignominy，andtheministerthehollowmockeryofhisgoodname！Sotheylingeredaninstantlonger。Nogoldenlighthadeverbeensopreciousasthegloomofthisdarkforest。Here，seenonlybyhiseyes，thescarletletterneednotburnintothebosomofthefallenwoman！Here，seenonlybyhereyes，ArthurDimmesdale，falsetoGodandman，mightbeforonemomenttrue！
　　Hestartedatathoughtthatsuddenlyoccurredtohim。
　　"Hester，"criedhe，"hereisanewhorror！RogerChillingworthknowsyourpurposetorevealhistruecharacter。Willhecontinue，then，tokeepoursecret？Whatwillnowbethecourseofhisrevenge？"
　　"Thereisastrangesecrecyinhisnature，"repliedHesterthoughtfully；"andithasgrownuponhimbythehiddenpracticesofhisrevenge。Ideemitnotlikelythathewillbetraythesecret。Hewilldoubtlessseekothermeansofsatiatinghisdarkpassion。"
　　"AndI！—howamItolivelonger，breathingthesameairwiththisdeadlyenemy？"exclaimedArthurDimmesdale，shrinkingwithinhimself，andpressinghishandnervouslyagainsthisheart—agesturethathadgrowninvoluntarywithhim。"Thinkforme，Hester！
　　Thouartstrong。Resolveforme！"
　　"Thoumustdwellnolongerwiththisman，"saidHester，slowlyandfirmly。"Thyheartmustbenolongerunderhisevileye！"
　　"Itwerefarworsethandeath！"repliedtheminister。"Buthowtoavoidit？Whatchoiceremainstome？ShallIliedownagainonthesewitheredleaves，whereIcastmyselfwhenthoudidsttellmewhathewas？MustIsinkdownthere，anddieatonce？"
　　"Alas，whataruinhasbefallenthee！"saidHester，withthetears，gushingintohereyes。"Wiltthoudieforveryweakness？
　　Thereisnoothercause！"
　　"ThejudgmentofGodisonme，"answeredtheconscience—strickenpriest。"Itistoomightyformetostrugglewith！"
　　"Heavenwouldshowmercy，"rejoinedHester，"hadstthoubutthestrengthtotakeadvantageofit。"
　　"Bethoustrongforme！"answeredhe。"Advisemewhattodo。"
　　"Istheworld，then，sonarrow？"exclaimedHesterPrynne，fixingherdeepeyesontheminister’s，andinstinctivelyexercisingamagneticpoweroveraspiritsoshatteredandsubduedthatitcouldhardlyholditselferect。"Doththeuniverseliewithinthecompassofyondertown，whichonlyalittletimeagowasbutaleaf—strewndesert，aslonelyasthisaroundus？Whitherleadsyonderforest—track？
　　Backwardtothesettlement，thousayest！Yes；butonward，too！
　　Deeperitgoes，anddeeper，intothewilderness，lessplainlytobeseenateverystep；until，somefewmileshence，theyellowleaveswillshownovestigeofthewhiteman’stread。Therethouartfree！Sobriefajourneywouldbringtheefromaworldwherethouhastbeenmostwretched，toonewherethoumayeststillbehappy！IstherenotshadeenoughinallthisboundlessforesttohidethyheartfromthegazeofRogerChillingworth？"
　　"Yes，Hester；butonlyunderthefallenleaves！"repliedtheminister，withasadsmile。
　　"Thenthereisthebroadpathwayofthesea！"continuedHester。
　　"Itbroughttheehither。Ifthousochoose，itwillbeartheebackagain。Inournativeland，whetherinsomeremoteruralvillageorinvastLondon—or，surely，inGermany，inFrance，inpleasantItaly—thouwouldstbebeyondhispowerandknowledge！Andwhathastthoutodowithalltheseironmen，andtheiropinions？Theyhavekeptthybetterpartinbondagetoolongalready！"
　　"Itcannotbe！"answeredtheminister，listeningasifhewerecalledupontorealiseadream。"Iampowerlesstogo！WretchedandsinfulasIam，IhavehadnootherthoughtthantodragonmyearthlyexistenceinthespherewhereProvidencehathplacedme。Lostasmyownsoulis，IwouldstilldowhatImayforotherhumansouls！Idarenotquitmypost，thoughanunfaithfulsentinel，whosesurerewardisdeathanddishonour，whenhisdrearywatchshallcometoanend！"
　　"Thouartcrushedunderthissevenyears’weightofmisery，"repliedHester，ferventlyresolvedtobuoyhimupwithherownenergy。"Butthoushaltleaveitallbehindthee！Itshallnotcumberthysteps，asthoutreadestalongtheforest—path；neithershaltthoufreighttheshipwithit，ifthouprefertocrossthesea。Leavethiswreckandruinherewhereithathhappened。Meddlenomorewithit！Beginallanew！Hastthouexhaustedpossibilityinthefailureofthisonetrial？Notso！Thefutureisyetfulloftrialandsuccess。Thereishappinesstobeenjoyed！Thereisgoodtobedone！Exchangethisfalselifeofthineforatrueone。Be，ifthyspiritsummontheetosuchamission，theteacherandapostleoftheredmen。Or—asismorethynature—beascholarandasageamongthewisestandthemostrenownedofthecultivatedworld。Preach！Write！Act！Doanything，savetoliedownanddie！GiveupthisnameofArthurDimmesdale，andmakethyselfanother，andahighone，suchasthoucanstwearwithoutfearorshame。Whywouldstthoutarrysomuchasoneotherdayinthetormentsthathavesognawedintothylife！—thathavemadetheefeebletowillandtodo！—thatwillleavetheepowerlesseventorepent！Up，andaway！"
　　"OHester！"criedArthurDimmesdale，inwhoseeyesafitfullight，kindledbyherenthusiasm，flashedupanddiedaway，"thoutellestofrunningaracetoamanwhosekneesaretotteringbeneathhim！I
　　mustdiehere！Thereisnotthestrengthorcourageleftmetoventureintothewide，strange，difficultworld，alone！"
　　Itwasthelastexpressionofthedespondencyofabrokenspirit。Helackedenergytograspthebetterfortunethatseemedwithinhisreach。
　　Herepeatedtheword。
　　"Alone，Hester！"
　　"Thoushaltnotgoalone！"answeredshe，inadeepwhisper。
　　Then，allwasspoken！
　　XVIII。
　　AFLOODOFSUNSHINE。
　　ARTHURDIMMESDALEgazedintoHester’sfacewithalookinwhichhopeandjoyshoneout，indeed，butwithfearbetwixtthem，andakindofhorroratherboldness，whohadspokenwhathevaguelyhintedat，butdarednotspeak。
　　ButHesterPrynne，withamindofnativecourageandactivity，andforsolongaperiodnotmerelyestranged，butoutlawed，fromsociety，hadhabituatedherselftosuchlatitudeofspeculationaswasaltogetherforeigntotheclergyman。Shehadwandered，withoutruleorguidance，inamoralwilderness；asvast，asintricateandshadowy，astheuntamedforest，amidthegloomofwhichtheywerenowholdingacolloquythatwastodecidetheirfate。Herintellectandhearthadtheirhome，asitwere，indesertplaces，wheresheroamedasfreelyasthewildIndianinhiswoods。Foryearspastshehadlookedfromthisestrangedpointofviewathumaninstitutions，andwhateverpriestsorlegislatorshadestablished；criticisingallwithhardlymorereverencethantheIndianwouldfeelfortheclericalband，thejudicialrobe，thepillory，thegallows，thefireside，orthechurch。Thetendencyofherfateandfortuneshadbeentosetherfree。Thescarletletterwasherpassportintoregionswhereotherwomendarednottread。Shame，Despair，Solitude！Thesehadbeenherteachers—sternandwildones—andtheyhadmadeherstrong，buttaughthermuchamiss。
　　Theminister，ontheotherhand，hadnevergonethroughanexperiencecalculatedtoleadhimbeyondthescopeofgenerallyreceivedlaws；although，inasingleinstance，hehadsofearfullytransgressedoneofthemostsacredofthem。Butthishadbeenasinofpassion，notofprinciple，norevenpurpose。Sincethatwretchedepoch，hehadwatched，withmorbidzealandminuteness，nothisacts—forthoseitwaseasytoarrange—buteachbreathofemotion，andhiseverythought。Attheheadofthesocialsystem，astheclergymanofthatdaystood，hewasonlythemoretrammelledbyitsregulations，itsprinciples，andevenitsprejudices。Asapriest，theframeworkofhisorderinevitablyhemmedhimin。Asamanwhohadoncesinned，butwhokepthisconscienceallaliveandpainfullysensitivebythefrettingofanunhealedwound，hemighthavebeensupposedsaferwithinthelineofvirtuethanifhehadneversinnedatall。
　　Thus，weseemtoseethat，asregardedHesterPrynne，thewholesevenyearsofoutlawandignominyhadbeenlittleotherthanapreparationforthisveryhour。ButArthurDimmesdale！Weresuchamanoncemoretofall，whatpleacouldbeurgedinextenuationofhiscrime？None；unlessitavailhimsomewhat，thathewasbrokendownbylongandexquisitesuffering；thathismindwasdarkenedandconfusedbytheveryremorsewhichharrowedit；that，betweenfleeingasanavowedcriminal，andremainingasahypocrite，consciencemightfindithardtostrikethebalance；thatitwashumantoavoidtheperilofdeathandinfamy，andtheinscrutablemachinationsofanenemy；that，finally，tothispoorpilgrim，onhisdrearyanddesertpath，faint，sick，miserable，thereappearedaglimpseofhumanaffectionandsympathy，anewlife，andatrueone，inexchangefortheheavydoomwhichhewasnowexpiating。Andbethesternandsadtruthspoken，thatthebreachwhichguilthasoncemadeintothehumansoulisnever，inthismortalstate，repaired。
　　Itmaybewatchedandguarded；sothattheenemyshallnotforcehiswayagainintothecitadel，andmighteven，inhissubsequentassaults，selectsomeotheravenue，inpreferencetothatwherehehadformerlysucceeded。Butthereisstilltheruinedwall，and，nearit，thestealthytreadofthefoethatwouldwinoveragainhisunforgottentriumph。
　　Thestruggle，iftherewereone，neednotbedescribed。Letitsuffice，thattheclergymanresolvedtoflee，andnotalone。
　　"If，inallthesepastsevenyears，"thoughthe，"Icouldrecalloneinstantofpeaceorhope，Iwouldyetendure，forthesakeofthatearnestofHeaven’smercy。Butnow—sinceIamirrevocablydoomed—
　　whereforeshouldInotsnatchthesolaceallowedtothecondemnedculpritbeforehisexecution？Or，ifthisbethepathtoabetterlife，asHesterwouldpersuademe，Isurelygiveupnofairerprospectbypursuingit！NeithercanIanylongerlivewithouthercompanionship；sopowerfulisshetosustain—sotendertosoothe！O
　　ThoutowhomIdarenotliftmineeyes，wiltThouyetpardonme！"
　　"Thouwiltgo！"saidHestercalmly，ashemetherglance。
　　Thedecisiononcemade，aglowofstrangeenjoymentthrewitsflickeringbrightnessoverthetroubleofhisbreast。Itwastheexhilaratingeffect—uponaprisonerjustescapedfromthedungeonofhisownheart—ofbreathingthewild，freeatmosphereofanunredeemed，unchristianised，lawlessregion。Hisspiritrose，asitwere，withabound，andattainedanearerprospectofthesky，thanthroughoutallthemiserywhichhadkepthimgrovellingontheearth。Ofadeeplyreligioustemperament，therewasinevitablyatingeofthedevotionalinhismind。
　　"DoIfeeljoyagain？"criedhe，wonderingathimself。"Methoughtthegermofitwasdeadinme！OHester，thouartmybetterangel！I
　　seemtohaveflungmyself—sick，sin—stained，andsorrow—blackened—
　　downupontheseforest—leaves，andtohaverisenupallmadeanew，andwithnewpowerstoglorifyHimthathathbeenmerciful！Thisisalreadythebetterlife！Whydidwenotfinditsooner？"
　　"Letusnotlookback，"answeredHesterPrynne。"thepastisgone！
　　Whereforeshouldwelingeruponitnow？See！Withthissymbol，I
　　undoitall，andmakeitasithadneverbeen！"
　　Sospeaking，sheundidtheclaspthatfastenedthescarletletter，and，takingitfromherbosom，threwittoadistanceamongthewitheredleaves。Themystictokenalightedonthehithervergeofthestream。Withahand’sbreadthfartherflightitwouldhavefallenintothewater，andhavegiventhelittlebrookanotherwoetocarryonward，besidestheunintelligibletalewhichitstillkeptmurmuringabout。Buttherelaytheembroideredletter，glitteringlikealostjewel，whichsomeill—fatedwanderermightpickup，andthenceforthbehauntedbystrangephantomsofguilt，sinkingsoftheheart，andunaccountablemisfortune。
　　Thestigmagone，Hesterheavedalong，deepsigh，inwhichtheburdenofshameandanguishdepartedfromherspirit。Oh，exquisiterelief！Shehadnotknowntheweight，untilshefeltthefreedom！Byanotherimpulse，shetookofftheformalcapthatconfinedherhair；
　　anddownitfelluponhershoulders，darkandrich，withatonceashadowandalightinitsabundance，andimpartingthecharmofsoftnesstoherfeatures。Thereplayedaroundhermouth，andbeamedoutofhereyes，aradiantandtendersmile，thatseemedgushingfromtheveryheartofwomanhood。Acrimsonflushwasglowingonhercheek，thathadbeenlongsopale。Hersex，heryouth，andthewholerichnessofthebeauty，camebackfromwhatmencalltheirrevocablepast，andclusteredthemselves，withhermaidenhope，andahappinessbeforeunknown，withinthemagiccircleofthishour。And，asifthegloomoftheearthandskyhadbeenbuttheeffluenceofthesetwomortalhearts，itvanishedwiththeirsorrow。Allatonce，aswithasuddensmileofheaven，forthburstthesunshine，pouringaveryfloodintotheobscureforest，gladdeningeachgreenleaf，transmutingtheyellowfallenonestogold，andgleamingadownthegreytrunksofthesolemntrees。Theobjectsthathadmadeashadowhitherto，embodiedthebrightnessnow。Thecourseofthelittlebrookmightbetracedbyitsmerrygleamafarintothewood’sheartofmystery，whichhadbecomeamysteryofjoy。
　　SuchwasthesympathyofNature—thatwild，heathenNatureoftheforest，neversubjugatedbyhumanlaw，norilluminedbyhighertruth—withtheblissofthesetwospirits！Love，whethernewlyborn，orarousedfromadeath—likeslumber，mustalwayscreateasunshine，fillingtheheartsofullofradiance，thatitoverflowsupontheoutwardworld。Hadtheforeststillkeptitsgloom，itwouldhavebeenbrightinHester’seyes，andbrightinArthurDimmesdale’s！
　　Hesterlookedathimwiththethrillofanotherjoy。
　　"ThoumustknowPearl！"saidshe。"OurlittlePearl！Thouhastseenher—yes，Iknowit！—butthouwiltseehernowwithothereyes。Sheisastrangechild！Ihardlycomprehendher！Butthouwiltloveherdearly，asIdo，andwiltadvisemehowtodealwithher。"
　　"Dostthouthinkthechildwillbegladtoknowme？"askedtheminister，somewhatuneasily。"Ihavelongshrunkfromchildren，becausetheyoftenshowadistrust—abackwardnesstobefamiliarwithme。IhaveevenbeenafraidoflittlePearl！"
　　"Ah，thatwassad！"answeredthemother。"Butshewilllovetheedearly，andthouher。Sheisnotfaroff。Iwillcallher！Pearl！
　　Pearl！"
　　"Iseethechild，"observedtheminister。"Yondersheis，standinginastreakofsunshine，agoodwayoff，ontheothersideofthebrook，Sothouthinkestthechildwillloveme？"
　　Hestersmiled，andagaincalledtoPearl，whowasvisible，atsomedistance，astheministerhaddescribedher，likeabright—apparelledvision，inasunbeam，whichfelldownuponherthroughanarchofboughs。Therayquiveredtoandfro，makingherfiguredimordistinct—nowlikearealchild，nowlikeachild’sspirit—asthesplendourwentandcameagain。Sheheardhermother’svoice，andapproachedslowlythroughtheforest。
　　Pearlhadnotfoundthehourpasswearisomely，whilehermothersattalkingwiththeclergyman。Thegreatblackforest—sternasitshoweditselftothosewhobroughttheguiltandtroublesoftheworldintoitsbosom—becametheplaymateofthelonelyinfant，aswellasitknewhow。Sombreasitwas，itputonthekindestofitsmoodstowelcomeher。Itofferedherthepartridge—berries，thegrowthoftheprecedingautumn，butripeningonlyinthespring，andnowredasdropsofblooduponthewitheredleaves。ThesePearlgathered，andwaspleasedwiththeirwildflavour。Thesmalldenizensofthewildernesshardlytookpainstomoveoutofherpath。Apartridge，indeed，withabroodoftenbehindher，ranforwardthreatingly，butsoonrepentedofherfierceness，andcluckedtoheryoungonesnottobeafraid。Apigeon，aloneonalowbranch，allowedPearltocomebeneath，andutteredasoundasmuchofgreetingasalarm。Asquirrel，fromtheloftydepthsofhisdomestictree，chatteredeitherinangerormerriment—forasquirrelissuchacholericandhumorouslittlepersonage，thatitishardtodistinguishbetweenhismoods—sohechatteredatthechild，andflungdownanutuponherhead。Itwasalastyear’snut，andalreadygnawedbyhissharptooth。Afox，startledfromhissleepbyherlightfootstepontheleaves，lookedinquisitivelyatPearl，asdoubtingwhetheritwerebettertostealoff，orrenewhisnaponthesamespot。Awolf，itissaid—butherethetalehassurelylapsedintotheimprobable—cameup，andsmeltofPearl’srobe，andofferedhissavageheadtobepattedbyherhand。
　　Thetruthseemstobe，however，thatthemother—forest，andthesewildthingswhichitnourished，allrecognisedakindredwildnessinthehumanchild。
　　Andshewasgentlerherethaninthegrassy—marginedstreetsofthesettlement，orinhermother’scottage。Theflowersappearedtoknowit；andoneandanotherwhisperedasshepassed，"Adornthyselfwithme，thoubeautifulchild，adornthyselfwithme！"—and，topleasethem，Pearlgatheredtheviolets，andanemones，andcolumbines，andsometwigsofthefreshestgreen，whichtheoldtreeshelddownbeforehereyes。Withtheseshedecoratedherhair，andheryoungwaist，andbecameanymph—child，oraninfantdryad，orwhateverelsewasinclosestsympathywiththeantiquewood。InsuchguisehadPearladornedherself，whensheheardhermother’svoice，andcameslowlyback。
　　Slowly；forshesawtheclergyman！
　　XIX。
　　THECHILDATTHEBROOK—SIDE。
　　"THOUwiltloveherdearly，"repeatedHesterPrynne，assheandtheministersatwatchinglittlePearl。"Dostthounotthinkherbeautiful？Andseewithwhatnaturalskillshehasmadethosesimpleflowersadornher！Hadshegatheredpearls，anddiamonds，andrubies，inthewood，theycouldnothavebecomeherbetter。Sheisasplendidchild！ButIknowwhosebrowshehas！"
　　"Dostthouknow，Hester，"saidArthurDimmesdale，withanunquietsmile，"thatthisdearchild，trippingaboutalwaysatthyside，hathcausedmemanyanalarm？Methought—OHester，whatathoughtisthat，andhowterribletodreadit！—thatmyownfeatureswerepartlyrepeatedinherface，andsostrikinglythattheworldmightseethem！Butsheismostlythine！"
　　"No，no！Notmostly！"answeredthemother，withatendersmile。"A
　　littlelongerandthouneedestnotbeafraidtotracewhosechildsheis。Buthowstrangelybeautifulshelooks，withthosewildflowersinherhair！Itisasifoneofthefairies，whomweleftinourdearoldEngland，haddeckedherouttomeetus。"
　　Itwaswithafeelingwhichneitherofthemhadeverbeforeexperienced，thattheysatandwatchedPearl’sslowadvance。Inherwasvisiblethetiethatunitedthem。Shehadbeenofferedtotheworld，thesesevenyearspast，asthelivinghieroglyphic，inwhichwasrevealedthesecrettheysodarklysoughttohide—allwritteninthissymbol—allplainlymanifest—hadtherebeenaprophetormagicianskilledtoreadthecharacterofflame！AndPearlwastheonenessoftheirbeing。Betheforegoneevilwhatitmight，howcouldtheydoubtthattheirearthlylivesandfuturedestinieswereconjoined，whentheybeheldatoncethematerialunion，andthespiritualidea，inwhomtheymet，andweretodwellimmortallytogether？Thoughtslikethese—andperhapsotherthoughts，whichtheydidnotacknowledgeordefine—threwanaweaboutthechild，asshecameonward。
　　"Letherseenothingstrange—nopassionnoreagerness—inthywayofaccostingher，"whisperedHester。"OurPearlisafitfulandfantasticlittleelf，sometimes。Especially，sheisseldomtolerantofemotion，whenshedoesnotfullycomprehendthewhyandwherefore。Butthechildhathstrongaffections！Shelovesme，andwilllovethee！"
　　"Thoucanstnotthink，"saidtheminister，glancingasideatHesterPrynne，"howmyheartdreadsthisinterview，andyearnsforit！
　　But，intruth，asIalreadytoldthee，childrenarenotreadilywontobefamiliarwithme。Theywillnotclimbmyknee，norprattleinmyear，noranswertomysmile；butstandapart，andeyemestrangely。
　　Evenlittlebabes，whenItaketheminmyarms，weepbitterly。YetPearl，twiceinherlittlelifetime，hathbeenkindtome！Thefirsttime—thouknowestitwell！ThelastwaswhenthouledstherwiththeetothehouseofyondersternoldGovernor。"
　　"Andthoudidstpleadsobravelyinherbehalfandmine！"answeredthemother。"Irememberit；andsoshalllittlePearl。Fearnothing！
　　Shemaybestrangeandshyatfirst，butwillsoonlearntolovethee！"
　　BythistimePearlhadreachedthemarginofthebrook，andstoodonthefartherside，gazingsilentlyatHesterandtheclergyman，whostillsattogetheronthemossytree—trunk，waitingtoreceiveher。
　　Justwhereshehadpaused，thebrookchancedtoformapool，sosmoothandquietthatitreflectedaperfectimageofherlittlefigure，withallthebrilliantpicturesquenessofherbeauty，initsadornmentofflowersandwreathedfoliage，butmorerefinedandspiritualisedthanthereality。Thisimage，sonearlyidenticalwiththelivingPearl，seemedtocommunicatesomewhatofitsownshadowyandintangiblequalitytothechildherself。Itwasstrange，thewayinwhichPearlstood，lookingsosteadfastlyatthemthroughthedimmediumoftheforest—gloom；herself，meanwhile，allglorifiedwitharayofsunshine，thatwasattractedthitherwardasbyacertainsympathy。Inthebrookbeneathstoodanotherchild—anotherandthesame—withlikewiseitsrayofgoldenlight。Hesterfeltherself，insomeindistinctandtantalisingmanner，estrangedfromPearl；asifthechild，inherlonely，ramblethroughtheforest，hadstrayedoutofthesphereinwhichsheandhermotherdwelttogether，andwasnowvainlyseekingtoreturntoit。