The neighborly offer of the country to console her for the loss of
the town she received with alarm, hastening to bethink herself that God
cared more for one miserable, selfish, wife-and-donkey-beating
costermonger of unsavory Shoreditch, than for all the hills and dales of
Cumberland, yea and all the starry things of his heavens.
She would care only as God cared, and from all this beauty gather
strength to give to sorrow.
She dressed quickly, and went to her mother's room. Her father was
already out of doors, but her mother was having breakfast in bed. They
greeted each other with such smiles as made words almost unnecessary.
"What a _lovely_ place it is, mamma! You did not say half enough
about it," exclaimed Hester.
"Wasn't it better to let you discover for yourself, my child?" answered
her mother. "You were so sorry to leave London, that I would not praise
Yrndale for fear of prejudicing you against it."
"Mother," said Hester, with something in her throat, "I did not want to
change; I was content, and had my work to do! I never was one to turn
easily to new things. And perhaps I need hardly tell you that the
conviction has been growing upon me for years and years that my calling
is among my fellow-creatures in London!"
She had never yet, even to her mother, spoken out plainly concerning the
things most occupying her heart and mind.
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