Kester, poor old man, was sobbing bitterly; but she not at all.
Then Hester bore her child to her, and Sylvia opened wide her miserable eyes, and only stared, as if all sense was gone from her. But Bella suddenly rousing up at the sight of the poor, scarred, peaceful face, cried out,—
'Poor man who was so hungry. Is he not hungry now?'
'No,' said Hester, softly. 'The former things are passed away—and he is gone where there is no more sorrow, and no more pain.'
But then she broke down into weeping and crying. Sylvia sat up and looked at her.
'Why do yo' cry, Hester?' she said. 'Yo' niver said that yo' wouldn't forgive him as long as yo' lived. Yo' niver broke the heart of him that loved yo', and let him almost starve at yo'r very door. Oh, Philip! my Philip, tender and true.'
Then Hester came round and closed the sad half-open eyes; kissing the calm brow with a long farewell kiss. As she did so, her eye fell on a black ribbon round his neck. She partly lifted it out; to it was hung a half-crown piece.
'This is the piece he left at William Darley's to be bored,' said she, 'not many days ago.'
Bella had crept to her mother's arms as a known haven in this strange place; and the touch of his child loosened the fountains of her tears. She stretched out her hand for the black ribbon, put it round her own neck; after a while she said,
'If I live very long, and try hard to be very good all that time, do yo' think, Hester, as God will let me to him where he is?'