The Return of Hester Page #3

"The Return of Hester" by Lucy Maud Montgomery is a poignant exploration of love, loss, and redemption. The story centers around Hester Gray, a strong-willed and passionate woman who returns to her small hometown after years away, grappling with her past decisions and the relationships she left behind. As Hester confronts old rivalries and rekindles ties with former friends and family, she embarks on a journey of self-discovery and transformation. Montgomery’s lyrical prose captures the beauty of nature and the complexity of human emotions, making it a heartfelt tale about finding one's place in the world and the enduring power of forgiveness.

• Short story

								

Way of Delight." It was almost dark here; and yet I could see
Hester's face just as plainly as if the moon were shining on it;
and whenever I looked at her she was always looking at me with
that strangely gentle smile on her lips.

Just as we passed out of the Avenue, James Trent overtook us,
driving.  It seems to me that our feelings at a given moment are
seldom what we would expect them to be.  I simply felt annoyed
that James Trent, the most notorious gossip in Newbridge, should
have seen me walking with Hester.  In a flash I anticipated all
the annoyance of it; he would talk of the matter far and wide.

But James Trent merely nodded and called out,

"Howdy, Miss Margaret.  Taking a moonlight stroll by yourself?
Lovely night, ain't it?"

Just then his horse suddenly swerved, as if startled, and broke
into a gallop.  They whirled around the curve of the road in an
instant.  I felt relieved, but puzzled.  JAMES TRENT HAD NOT SEEN
HESTER.

Down over the hill was Hugh Blair's place.  When we came to it,
Hester turned in at the gate.  Then, for the first time, I
understood why she had come back, and a blinding flash of joy
broke over my soul.  I stopped and looked at her.  Her deep eyes
gazed into mine, but she did not speak.

We went on. Hugh's house lay before us in the moonlight, grown
over by a tangle of vines.  His garden was on our right, a quaint
spot, full of old-fashioned flowers growing in a sort of
disorderly sweetness.  I trod on a bed of mint, and the spice of
it floated up to me like the incense of some strange, sacred,
solemn ceremonial.  I felt unspeakably happy and blessed.

When we came to the door Hester said,

"Knock, Margaret."

I rapped gently.  In a moment, Hugh opened it.  Then that
happened by which, in after days, I was to know that this strange
thing was no dream or fancy of mine.  Hugh looked not at me, but
past me.

"Hester!" he exclaimed, with human fear and horror in his voice.

He leaned against the door-post, the big, strong fellow,
trembling from head to foot.

"I have learned," said Hester, "that nothing matters in all God's
universe, except love.  There is no pride where I have been, and
no false ideals."

Hugh and I looked into each other's eyes, wondering, and then we
knew that we were alone.
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