go on.—Having to wait for a neighbour's wagon, I arrived but late at the Sewing Circle. When I entered, the two joined rooms were very full. With the farmer's girls, our neighbours, I passed along to the further corner, where thou didst see me; and as I went, some heads were turned, and some whisperings I heard, of—"She's the new help at poor Walter Ulver's—the strange girl they've got—she thinks herself 'mazing pretty, I'll be bound;—but nobody knows her—Oh, how demure!—but not over-good, I guess;—I wouldn't be her, not I—mayhap she's some other ruined Delly, run away;—minx." It was the first time poor Bell had ever mixed in such a general crowded company; and knowing little or nothing of such things, I had thought, that the meeting being for charity's sweet sake, uncharity could find no harbour there; but no doubt it was mere thoughtlessness, not malice in them. Still, it made my heart ache in me sadly; for then I very keenly felt the dread suspiciousness, in which a strange and lonely grief invests itself to common eyes; as if grief itself were not enough, nor innocence any armour to us, but despite must also come, and icy infamy! Miserable returnings then I had—even in the midst of bright-budding girls and full-blown women—miserable returnings then I had of the feeling, the bewildering feeling of the inhumanities I spoke of in my earlier story. But Pierre, blessed Pierre, do not look so sadly and half-reproachfully upon me. Lone and lost though I have been, I love my kind; and charitably and intelligently pity them, who uncharitably and unintelligently do me despite. And thou, thou, blessed brother, hath glorified many sombre places in my soul, and taught me once for all to know, that my kind are capable of things which would be glorious in angels. So look away from me, dear Pierre, till thou hast taught thine eyes more wonted glances.'
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SECOND PART OF STORY OF ISABEL
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