“I feared that some accident had happened to Mr Hope.”
“So did I.”
“And if,” said Margaret, “I feared something else—Nay, Hester, you must let me speak. We must have no concealments, Hester. You and I are alone in the world, and we must comfort each other. We agreed to this. Why should you be ashamed of what you feel? I believe that you have a stronger interest in this misfortune than any one in the world; and why—”
“How do you mean, a stronger interest?” asked Hester, trying to command her voice. “Tell me what you mean, Margaret.”
“I mean,” said Margaret, steadily, “that no one is so much attached to Mr Hope as you are.”
“I think,” said Margaret, after a pause, “that Mr Hope has a high respect and strong regard for you.” She paused again, and then added, “If I believed anything more, I would tell you.”
When Hester could speak again, she said, gently and humbly, “I assure you, Margaret, I never knew the state of my own mind till this last night. If I had been aware—”
“If you had been aware, you would have been unlike all who ever really loved, if people say true. Now that you have become aware, you will act as you can act—nobly—righteously. You will struggle with your feelings till your mind grows calm. Peace will come in time.”
“Do you think there is no hope?”
“Consider his state.”