Again, the two different women were divergently affected by the extreme fondness which Bell had shown towards Hester ever since Sylvia’s wedding-day.  Sylvia, who had always received more love from others than she knew what to do with, had the most entire faith in her own supremacy in her mother’s heart, though at times Hester would do certain things more to the poor old woman’s satisfaction.  Hester, who had craved for the affection which had been withheld from her, and had from that one circumstance become distrustful of her own power of inspiring regard, while she exaggerated the delight of being beloved, feared lest Sylvia should become jealous of her mother’s open display of great attachment and occasional preference for Hester.  But such a thought never entered Sylvia’s mind.  She was more thankful than she knew how to express towards any one who made her mother happy; as has been already said, the contributing to Bell Robson’s pleasures earned Philip more of his wife’s smiles than anything else.  And Sylvia threw her whole heart into the words and caresses she lavished on Hester whenever poor Mrs. Robson spoke of the goodness and kindness of the latter.  Hester attributed more virtue to these sweet words and deeds of gratitude than they deserved; they did not imply in Sylvia any victory over evil temptation, as they would have done in Hester.

It seemed to be Sylvia’s fate to captivate more people than she cared to like back again.  She turned the heads of John and Jeremiah Foster, who could hardly congratulate Philip enough on his choice of a wife.

They had been prepared to be critical on one who had interfered with their favourite project of a marriage between Philip and Hester; and, though full of compassion for the cruelty of Daniel Robson’s fate, they were too completely men of business not to have some apprehension that the connection of Philip Hepburn with the daughter of a man who was hanged, might injure the shop over which both his and their name appeared.  But all the possible proprieties demanded that they should pay attention to the bride of their former shopman and present successor; and the very first visitors whom Sylvia had received after her marriage had been John and Jeremiah Foster, in their sabbath-day clothes.  They found her in the parlour (so familiar to both of them!) clear-starching her mother’s caps, which had to be got up in some particular fashion that Sylvia was afraid of dictating to Phoebe.

She was a little disturbed at her visitors discovering her at this employment; but she was on her own ground, and that gave her self-possession; and she welcomed the two old men so sweetly and modestly, and looked so pretty and feminine, and, besides, so notable in her handiwork, that she conquered all their prejudices at one blow; and their first thought on leaving the shop was how to do her honour, by inviting her to a supper party at Jeremiah Foster’s house.

Sylvia was dismayed when she was bidden to this wedding feast, and Philip had to use all his authority, though tenderly, to make her consent to go at all.  She had been to merry country parties like the Corneys’, and to bright haymaking romps in the open air; but never to a set stately party at a friend’s house.