pleasure of the excitement. In this way a modern young lady would
have condemned herself, and therefore lost the simple, purifying
pleasure of admiration of another.

Hester passed onwards, going down the hill towards the town. The
other three walked slowly on. All were silent for a few moments,
then Sylvia said--

'How good she is!'

And Philip replied with ready warmth,--

'Yes, she is; no one knows how good but us, who live in the same
house wi' her.'

'Her mother is an old Quakeress, bean't she?' Molly inquired.

'Alice Rose is a Friend, if that is what you mean,' said Philip.

'Well, well! some folk's so particular. Is William Coulson a Quaker,
by which a mean a Friend?'

'Yes; they're all on 'em right-down good folk.'

'Deary me! What a wonder yo' can speak to such sinners as Sylvia and
me, after keepin' company with so much goodness,' said Molly, who
had not yet forgiven Philip for doubting Kinraid's power of killing
men. 'Is na' it, Sylvia?'

But Sylvia was too highly strung for banter. If she had not been one