CHAPTER XXIII.
THE MENIAL.
Things had been going nowise really better with Mary, though there was now more lull and less storm around her.

The position was becoming less and less endurable to her, and she had as yet no glimmer of a way out of it.

Breath of genial air never blew in the shop, except when this and that customer entered it.

But how dear the dull old chapel had grown! Not that she heard anything more to her mind, or that she paid any more attention to what was said; but the memory of her father filled the place, and when the Bible was read, or some favorite hymn sung, he seemed to her actually present.

And might not love, she thought, even love to her, be strong enough to bring him from the gracious freedom of the new life, back to the house of bondage, to share it for an hour with his daughter?
When Hesper entered, she was disappointed to see Mary so much changed.
But when, at sight of her, the pale face brightened, and a faint, rosy flush overspread it from brow to chin, Mary was herself again as Hesper had known her; and the radiance of her own presence, reflected from Mary, cast a reflex of sunshine into the February of Hesper's heart: had Mary known how long it was since such a smile had lighted the face she so much admired, hers would have flushed with a profounder pleasure.