Hester's eyes fixed on her friend.
"Do you tell them? Do you show them up to themselves," she asked, "or do you leave them?"
"I do neither," said Rachel. "I treat them just the same as before."
"Then aren't you a hypocrite, too?"
Hester's small face was set like a flint.
"I think not," said Rachel, tranquilly, "any more than they are. The good is there for certain, and the evil is there for certain. Why should I take most notice of the evil, which is just the part which will be rubbed out of them presently, while the good will remain?"
"I think Rachel is right," said the Bishop.
"I don't think she is, at all," said Hester, her plumage ruffled, administering her contradiction right and left to her two best friends like a sharp peck from a wren. "I think we ought to believe the best of people until they prove themselves unworthy, and then—"
"Then what?" said the Bishop, settling himself in his chair.
"Then leave them in silence."