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Such
scenes
had
once
appeared
not
otherwise
than
happy
,
but
now
,
as
viewed
through
the
dismal
medium
of
her
subsequent
life
,
they
classed
themselves
among
her
ugliest
remembrances
.
She
marvelled
how
such
scenes
could
have
been
!
She
marvelled
how
she
could
ever
have
been
wrought
upon
to
marry
him
!
She
deemed
in
her
crime
most
to
be
repented
of
,
that
she
had
ever
endured
and
reciprocated
the
lukewarm
grasp
of
his
hand
,
and
had
suffered
the
smile
of
her
lips
and
eyes
to
mingle
and
melt
into
his
own
.
And
it
seemed
a
fouler
offence
committed
by
Roger
Chillingworth
than
any
which
had
since
been
done
him
,
that
,
in
the
time
when
her
heart
knew
no
better
,
he
had
persuaded
her
to
fancy
herself
happy
by
his
side
.
"
Yes
,
I
hate
him
!
"
repeated
Hester
more
bitterly
than
before
.
"
He
betrayed
me
!
He
has
done
me
worse
wrong
than
I
did
him
!
"
Let
men
tremble
to
win
the
hand
of
woman
,
unless
they
win
along
with
it
the
utmost
passion
of
her
heart
!
Else
it
may
be
their
miserable
fortune
,
as
it
was
Roger
Chillingworth
's
,
when
some
mightier
touch
than
their
own
may
have
awakened
all
her
sensibilities
,
to
be
reproached
even
for
the
calm
content
,
the
marble
image
of
happiness
,
which
they
will
have
imposed
upon
her
as
the
warm
reality
.
But
Hester
ought
long
ago
to
have
done
with
this
injustice
.
What
did
it
betoken
?
Had
seven
long
years
,
under
the
torture
of
the
scarlet
letter
,
inflicted
so
much
of
misery
and
wrought
out
no
repentance
?
The
emotion
of
that
brief
space
,
while
she
stood
gazing
after
the
crooked
figure
of
old
Roger
Chillingworth
,
threw
a
dark
light
on
Hester
's
state
of
mind
,
revealing
much
that
she
might
not
otherwise
have
acknowledged
to
herself
.
He
being
gone
,
she
summoned
back
her
child
.
"
Pearl
!
Little
Pearl
!
Where
are
you
?
"
Pearl
,
whose
activity
of
spirit
never
flagged
,
had
been
at
no
loss
for
amusement
while
her
mother
talked
with
the
old
gatherer
of
herbs
.
At
first
,
as
already
told
,
she
had
flirted
fancifully
with
her
own
image
in
a
pool
of
water
,
beckoning
the
phantom
forth
,
and
--
as
it
declined
to
venture
--
seeking
a
passage
for
herself
into
its
sphere
of
impalpable
earth
and
unattainable
sky
.
Soon
finding
,
however
,
that
either
she
or
the
image
was
unreal
,
she
turned
elsewhere
for
better
pastime
.
She
made
little
boats
out
of
birch-bark
,
and
freighted
them
with
snailshells
,
and
sent
out
more
ventures
on
the
mighty
deep
than
any
merchant
in
New
England
;
but
the
larger
part
of
them
foundered
near
the
shore
.
She
seized
a
live
horse-shoe
by
the
tail
,
and
made
prize
of
several
five-fingers
,
and
laid
out
a
jelly-fish
to
melt
in
the
warm
sun
.
Then
she
took
up
the
white
foam
that
streaked
the
line
of
the
advancing
tide
,
and
threw
it
upon
the
breeze
,
scampering
after
it
with
winged
footsteps
to
catch
the
great
snowflakes
ere
they
fell
.
Perceiving
a
flock
of
beach-birds
that
fed
and
fluttered
along
the
shore
,
the
naughty
child
picked
up
her
apron
full
of
pebbles
,
and
,
creeping
from
rock
to
rock
after
these
small
sea-fowl
,
displayed
remarkable
dexterity
in
pelting
them
.
One
little
gray
bird
,
with
a
white
breast
,
Pearl
was
almost
sure
had
been
hit
by
a
pebble
,
and
fluttered
away
with
a
broken
wing
.
But
then
the
elf-child
sighed
,
and
gave
up
her
sport
,
because
it
grieved
her
to
have
done
harm
to
a
little
being
that
was
as
wild
as
the
sea-breeze
,
or
as
wild
as
Pearl
herself
.
Her
final
employment
was
to
gather
seaweed
of
various
kinds
,
and
make
herself
a
scarf
or
mantle
,
and
a
head-dress
,
and
thus
assume
the
aspect
of
a
little
mermaid
.
She
inherited
her
mother
's
gift
for
devising
drapery
and
costume
.
As
the
last
touch
to
her
mermaid
's
garb
,
Pearl
took
some
eel-grass
and
imitated
,
as
best
she
could
,
on
her
own
bosom
the
decoration
with
which
she
was
so
familiar
on
her
mother
's
.
A
letter
--
the
letter
A
--
but
freshly
green
instead
of
scarlet
.
The
child
bent
her
chin
upon
her
breast
,
and
contemplated
this
device
with
strange
interest
,
even
as
if
the
one
only
thing
for
which
she
had
been
sent
into
the
world
was
to
make
out
its
hidden
import
.
