as she wiped the tears from her keen old eyes, "that there's a
kind of failure that's the best success."



VII. THE RETURN OF HESTER

Just at dusk, that evening, I had gone upstairs and put on my
muslin gown. I had been busy all day attending to the strawberry
preserving--for Mary Sloane could not be trusted with that--and I
was a little tired, and thought it was hardly worth while to
change my dress, especially since there was nobody to see or
care, since Hester was gone. Mary Sloane did not count.

But I did it because Hester would have cared if she had been
here. She always liked to see me neat and dainty. So, although
I was tired and sick at heart, I put on my pale blue muslin and
dressed my hair.

At first I did my hair up in a way I had always liked; but had
seldom worn, because Hester had disapproved of it. It became me;
but I suddenly felt as if it were disloyal to her, so I took the
puffs down again and arranged my hair in the plain, old-fashioned
way she had liked. My hair, though it had a good many gray
threads in it, was thick and long and brown still; but that did
not matter--nothing mattered since Hester was dead and I had sent
Hugh Blair away for the second time.

The Newbridge people all wondered why I had not put on mourning
for Hester. I did not tell them it was because Hester had asked