Червона літера
Hester at Her Needle
Inthislittlelonesomedwelling,withsomeslendermeansthatshepossessed,andbythelicenceofthemagistrates,whostillkeptaninquisitorialwatchoverher,Hesterestablishedherself,withherinfantchild.Amysticshadowofsuspicionimmediatelyattacheditselftothespot.Children,tooyoungtocomprehendwhereforethiswomanshouldbeshutoutfromthesphereofhumancharities,wouldcreepnighenoughtobeholdherplyingherneedleatthecottage-window,orstandinginthedoorway,orlabouringinherlittlegarden,orcomingforthalongthepathwaythatledtownward,and,discerningthescarletletteronherbreast,wouldscamperoffwithastrangecontagiousfear.
LonelyaswasHester’ssituation,andwithoutafriendonearthwhodaredtoshowhimself,she,however,incurrednoriskofwant.Shepossessedanartthatsufficed,eveninalandthataffordedcomparativelylittlescopeforitsexercise,tosupplyfoodforherthrivinginfantandherself.Itwastheart,then,asnow,almosttheonlyonewithinawoman’sgrasp—ofneedle-work.Sheboreonherbreast,inthecuriouslyembroideredletter,aspecimenofherdelicateandimaginativeskill,ofwhichthedamesofacourtmightgladlyhaveavailedthemselves,toaddthericherandmorespiritualadornmentofhumaningenuitytotheirfabricsofsilkandgold.Here,indeed,inthesablesimplicitythatgenerallycharacterisedthePuritanicmodesofdress,theremightbeaninfrequentcallforthefinerproductionsofherhandiwork.
