Esther's character was so yielding that she got along for a few months without much trouble. She never knew what her husband's business was, and often wondered why it kept him so long into the night. At last he began to abuse her, and grew so irritable that she begged to be taken back to her old place in the cigar factory, where, at least, she had kept herself from starving. Now young Cole had been arrested for burglary, tried, and sentenced to prison for three years, and Esther, innocent, ignorant even of his ever having committed crime, was suspected of being connected with the plot. Even Hepsey, who tried to harden her heart against pity, having been so often deceived, was affected by the utter abandonment to grief of the young girl. She was sitting on a bed of straw, with a child of her sister-in-law across her lap, her head fallen forward on her breast, her tears falling on the sleeping babe's face, seemingly unconscious of the presence of any one. "She's just gone daft with her trouble, poor thing," explained the woman, as she saw the eyes of her visitors fastened on the child-wife. It was difficult to rouse her from her grief. When addressed, she looked up frightened, supposing officers had come to take her to jail. Then, recognizing Miss Howard's kind face, she asked, piteously,— "Will they keep me in prison long?" Mrs. Cole took the babe from her arms, explaining, "I thought maybe 't would divert her thoughts," and then went on to say that Jo, her husband's brother, had always been a bad boy. He had no business to deceive a young girl, and get married when he had no home. That Esther was steady and honest, and was never up to knowing his wicked goings-on. Then she touched her head and pointed to the poor girl in a significant manner. "As to the robbery, she's as innocent of it as a babe unborn." No one could doubt it who witnessed the appealing glance in those wondering eyes; at least Miss Howard did not, but she could not at once decide what course to pursue to clear the child from the suspicion of crime. Having ascertained that Mrs. Cole was willing to keep her for a few days, Miss Howard put a sum of money into her hands, and, promising to do what she could, took her leave. "She's no more guilty than I am," exclaimed Hepsey, indignantly. "That woman thinks she isn't bright, but it's only because she's been cowed down and abused till she darsn't say her soul is her own. I remember her when she was as tidy and spry as the best of 'em." "Why, Hepsey, where did you ever see her?" "At the sewing school, ma'am, where I used to go in yer place while yer was in Grantbury; and Esther Sims, as they called her then, was the most respectful and the best behaved of the whole class." "Hepsey, do you think she could be trained by kindness to be a good servant?" Marion's voice was abrupt in her earnestness. "Indeed I do, ma'am. To be sure, it would take time, but it would be a deed o' mercy, and like as not be the saving of her soul."