I\'llnoanespeakillonthedead，butIwereuneasylike。Butsin\'Philipandtheeseemtoha\'madeitup————\'Sylviashivered，andopenedhermouthtospeak，butdidnotsayaword。\'Andsin\'theLordhasbeencomfortingme，andtalkingtomemanyatimewhenthou\'sthoughtIwereasleep，thingshasseemedtoreddtheirselvesup，andifDanielgoes，I\'mreadytofollow。Icouldniverstandlivingtohearfolkssayhe\'dbeenhung;itseemssounnaturalandshameful。\'\'But，mother，hewon\'t！——heshan\'tbehung！\'saidSylvia，springingtoherfeet。\'Philipsayshewon\'t。\'Bellshookherhead。Theywalkedon，Sylviabothdisheartenedandalmostirritatedathermother\'sdespondency。ButbeforetheywenttobedatnightBellsaidthingswhichseemedasthoughthemorning\'sfeelingshadbeenbuttemporary，andasifshewasreferringeverydecisiontotheperiodofherhusband\'sreturn。\'Whenfathercomeshome，\'seemedasortofburdenatthebeginningorendofeverysentence，andthisrelianceonhiscertaincomingbacktothemwasalmostasgreatatrialtoSylviaastheabsenceofallhopehadbeeninthemorning。Butthatinstincttoldherthathermotherwasbecomingincapableofargument，shewouldhaveaskedherwhyherviewsweresoessentiallychangedinsofewhours。ThisinabilityofreasoninpoorBellmadeSylviafeelverydesolate。Mondaypassedover——how，neitherofthemknew，forneitherspokeofwhatwasfillingthethoughtsofboth。BeforeitwaslightonTuesdaymorning，Bellwasastir。\'It\'sveryearly，mother，\'saidweary，sleepySylvia，dreadingreturningconsciousness。\'Ay，lass！\'saidBell，inabrisk，cheerfultone;\'buthe\'ll，maybe，behometo—night，andI\'seboundtohaveallthingsreadyforhim。\'\'Anyhow，\'saidSylvia，sittingupinbed，\'hecouldn\'tcomehometo—night。\'\'Tut，lass！thoudoesn\'tknowhowquickamancomeshometowifeandchild。
I\'llbea\'readyatanyrate。\'ShehurriedaboutinawaywhichSylviawonderedtosee;tillatlengthshefanciedthatperhapshermotherdidsotodriveawaythought。Everyplacewascleaned;therewasscarcetimeallowedforbreakfast;tillatlast，longbeforemid—day，alltheworkwasdone，andthetwosatdowntotheirspinning—wheels。Sylvia\'sspiritssanklowerandlowerateachspeechofhermother\'s，fromwhosemindallfearseemedtohavedisappeared，leavingonlyastrangerestlesskindofexcitement。\'It\'stimefort\'potatoes，\'saidBell，afterherwoolhadsnappedmanyatimefromheruneventread。\'Mother，\'saidSylvia，\'it\'sbutjustgoneten！\'\'Put\'emon，\'saidBell，withoutattendingtothefullmeaningofherdaughter\'swords。\'It\'ll，maybe，hastent\'dayonifwegetdinnerdonebetimes。\'\'ButKesterisint\'FarAcrefield，andhe\'llnotbehometillnoon。\'Thisseemedtosettlemattersforawhile;butthenBellpushedherwheelaway，andbegansearchingforherhoodandcloak。Sylviafoundthemforher，andthenaskedsadly——\'Whatdoestawant\'emfor，mother？\'\'I\'llgoupt\'browandthrought\'field，andjusthavealookdownt\'
lane。\'\'I\'llgowi\'thee，\'saidSylvia，feelingallthetimetheuselessnessofanylookingforintelligencefromYorksoearlyintheday。Verypatientlydidshewaitbyhermother\'ssideduringthelonghalf—hourwhichBellspentingazingdowntheroadforthosewhonevercame。WhentheygothomeSylviaputthepotatoesontoboil;butwhendinnerwasreadyandthethreewereseatedatthedresser;Bellpushedherplateawayfromher，sayingitwassolongafterdinnertimethatshewaspasteating。Kesterwouldhavesaidsomethingaboutitsbeingonlyhalf—pasttwelve，butSylviagavehimalookbeseechingsilence，andhewentonwithhisdinnerwithoutaword，onlybrushingawaythetearsfromhiseyeswiththebackofhishandfromtimetotime。\'A\'llnoanegofarfra\'homet\'resto\'t\'day，\'saidhe，inawhispertoSylvia，ashewentout。\'Willthisdaynivercometoanend？\'criedBell，plaintively。\'Oh，mother！it\'llcometoanendsometime，neverfear。I\'veheerdsay——\"Bethedaywearyorbethedaylong，Atlengthitringethtoeven—song。\"\'\'Toeven—song——toeven—song，\'repeatedBell。\'D\'yethinknowthateven—songmeansdeath，Sylvie？\'\'Icannottell——Icannotbearit。Mother，\'saidSylvia，indespair，\'I\'llmakesomeclap—bread:that\'saheavyjob，andwillwhileawayt\'afternoon。\'\'Ay，do！\'repliedthemother。\'He\'lllikeitfresh——he\'lllikeitfresh。\'Murmuringandtalkingtoherself，shefellintoadoze，fromwhichSylviawascarefulnottodisturbher。Thedayswerenowgettinglong，althoughascoldasever;andatHaytersbankFarmthelightlingered，astherewasnonearhorizontobringonearlydarkness。Sylviahadallreadyforhermother\'steaagainstshewakened;
butshesleptonandon，thepeacefulsleepofachild，andSylviadidnotcaretowakenher。Justafterthesunhadset，shesawKesteroutsidethewindowmakingsignstohertocomeout。Shestoleoutontip—toebytheback—kitchen，thedoorofwhichwasstandingopen。ShealmostranagainstPhilip，whodidnotperceiveher，ashewasawaitinghercomingtheotherwayroundthecornerofthehouse，andwhoturneduponherafacewhoseimportshereadinaninstant。\'Philip！\'wasallshesaid，andthenshefaintedathisfeet，comingdownwithaheavybangontheroundpavingstonesoftheyard。\'Kester！Kester！\'hecried，forshelookedlikeonedead，andwithallhisstrengththeweariedmancouldnotliftherandcarryherintothehouse。WithKester\'shelpshewasborneintotheback—kitchen，andKesterrushedtothepumpforsomecoldwatertothrowoverher。WhilePhilip，kneelingatherhead，waspartlysupportingherinhisarms，andheedlessofanysightorsound，theshadowofsomeonefelluponhim。
Helookedupandsawhisaunt;theolddignified，sensibleexpressiononherface，exactlylikeherformerself，composed，strong，andcalm。\'Mylass，\'saidshe，sittingdownbyPhilip，andgentlytakingheroutofhisarmsintoherown。\'Lass，bearup！wemunbearup，andbeagainonourwaytohim，he\'llbeneedingusnow。Bearup，mylass！theLordwillgiveusstrength。Wemungotohim;ay，time\'sprecious;thoumuncrythycryatafter！\'Sylviaopenedherdimeyes，andheardhermother\'svoice;theideascameslowlyintohermind，andslowlysheroseup，standingstill，likeonewhohasbeenstunned，toregainherstrength;andthen，takingholdofhermother\'sarm，shesaid，inasoft，strangevoice——\'Let\'sgo。I\'mready。\'