"Do you think that those who make such speeches are in the best mind for dying?" said Mr. Osborne. "Dying is a solemn matter, Hester! and can only be done once. But at present, living is more in your way. Do you know that this revengeful passion of yours will estrange all sympathy from you? Men and women who have lived long in the world have generally known some _real_ calamities, Hester! it is only boys and girls who can afford to indulge in despair, and say fate has done its worst. You do not know what you say--instead of fate and its curse, Providence has blessed you more greatly than you are able to perceive." "Not Providence--Providence never works by falsehood," cried I. Mr. Osborne's face flushed with displeasure. "You are very bitter, Hester, very harsh in your judgment," he said, "and I could not bear with this passion of yours so long if you had not been a dear child to me for many a year--for your father's and your mother's sake I overlook your resentment against myself, though I have not deserved it; but, Hester, beware--it is all very well now to be heroically miserable; but you are young--you have a long life before you; and, however long you may dwell upon your injury, some time or other you will begin to want and long for the happiness which now you despise. Hester! come, I will confess you have had a hard initiation into the cares of life; be a woman and a brave one, let us see no more of the girl's whims and humors. I can promise you all tenderness for your honest sorrow, Hester, but not for your wilful wretchedness." "I ask no tenderness, no sympathy. I will not accept it," I cried, starting from my seat. "You know I have not a true friend in the world--who should sympathize with me? every one of you has deceived me!" "If that is your conclusion, so be it," said Mr. Osborne, walking to his seat. "I can only hope that your true friends will not be lost, even before you have real need for them, and that when you come back to look for it, Hester, and find your right senses, your happiness will not be entirely out of your reach." I did not wait to hear any more, but left the room, unable to speak with anger and indignation--the stupor of my misery was broken, I was roused almost to madness. It was not yet a week since I had fallen from my happy confidence into this dark abyss of falsehood and betrayal, and already they blamed _me_--already they called me resentful, revengeful, obdurate. I, the victim of their successful plots, I who stood alone and no one with me! I saw at once how I would be judged on all sides, how every one would condemn me--how light _his_ offence would be in the eyes of the world--how unpardonable mine! If I had been like to yield before, I could not have yielded after that. I set myself fairly to meet it all. He should have justice! justice! and neither deceit nor pity from me.