look at Mrs. Barfield filled her, somehow, with recollections of her pious
childhood; she saw herself in the old shop, moving again in an atmosphere
of prayer, listening to the beautiful story, in the annunciation of which
her life had grown up. She answered her mistress's questions in sweet
light-heartedness of spirit, pleasing her with her knowledge of the Holy
Book. But in turn the servants had begun to read verses aloud from the New
Testament, and Esther saw that her secret would be torn from her. Sarah
had read a verse, and Mrs. Barfield had explained it, and now Margaret was
reading. Esther listened, thinking if she might plead illness and escape
from the room; but she could not summon sufficient presence of mind, and
while she was still agitated and debating with herself, Mrs. Barfield
called to her to continue. She hung down her head, suffocated with the
shame of the exposure, and when Mrs. Barfield told her again to continue
the reading Esther shook her head.

"Can you not read, Esther?" she heard a kind voice saying; and the sound
of this voice loosed the feelings long pent up, and the girl, giving way
utterly, burst into passionate weeping. She was alone with her suffering,
conscious of nothing else, until a kind hand led her from the room, and
this hand soothed away the bitterness of the tittering which reached her
ears as the door closed. It was hard to persuade her to speak, but even
the first words showed that there was more on the girl's heart than could
be told in a few minutes. Mrs. Barfield determined to take the matter at
once in hand; she dismissed the other servants and returned to the library
with Esther, and in that dim room of little green sofas, bookless shelves,
and bird-cages, the women--mistress and maid--sealed the bond of a
friendship which was to last for life.

Esther told her mistress everything--the work that Mrs. Latch required of
her, the persecution she received from the other servants, principally