She sate up and looked at them, smoothing back her tangled curls off her brow, as if to clear both her eyes and her intellect.
'Where am I ?--oh, I know! Thank you.

It was very silly, but somehow it seemed so sad!' And here she was nearly going off again, but Hester said-- 'Ay, it were sad, my poor lass--if I may call you so, for I don't rightly know your name--but it's best not think on it for we can do no mak' o' good, and it'll mebbe set you off again.

Yo're Philip Hepburn's cousin, I reckon, and yo' bide at Haytersbank Farm ?' 'Yes; she's Sylvia Robson,' put in Molly, not seeing that Hester's purpose was to make Sylvia speak, and so to divert her attention from the subject which had set her off into hysterics.

'And we came in for market,' continued Molly, 'and for t' buy t' new cloak as her feyther's going to give her; and, for sure, I thought we was i' luck's way when we saw t' first whaler, and niver dreaming as t' press-gang 'ud be so marred.' She, too, began to cry, but her little whimper was stopped by the sound of the opening door behind her.

It was Philip, asking Hester by a silent gesture if he might come in.
Sylvia turned her face round from the light, and shut her eyes.