 that pears and peaches might
yet be naturalized in the New England climate, and that purple grapes might
possibly be compelled to flourish, against the sunny garden-wall. The old
clergyman, nurtured at the rich bosom of the English Church, had a long
established and legitimate taste for all good and comfortable things; and
however stern he might show himself in the pulpit, or in his public reproof of
such transgressions as that of Hester Prynne, still, the genial benevolence of
his private life had won him warmer affection than was accorded to any of his
professional contemporaries.
    Behind the Governor and Mr. Wilson came two other guests; one, the Reverend
Arthur Dimmesdale, whom the reader may remember, as having taken a brief and
reluctant part in the scene of Hester Prynne's disgrace; and, in close
companionship with him, old Roger Chillingworth, a person of great skill in
physic, who, for two or three years past, had been settled in the town. It was
understood that this learned man was the physician as well as friend of the
young minister, whose health had severely suffered, of late, by his too
unreserved self-sacrifice to the labors and duties of the pastoral relation.
    The Governor, in advance of his visitors, ascended one or two steps, and,
throwing open the leaves of the great hall window, found himself close to little
Pearl. The shadow of the curtain fell on Hester Prynne, and partially concealed
her.
    »What have we here?« said Governor Bellingham, looking with surprise at the
scarlet little figure before him. »I profess, I have never seen the like, since
my days of vanity, in old King James's time, when I was wont to esteem it a high
favor to be admitted to a court mask! There used to be a swarm of these small
apparitions, in holiday-time; and we called them children of the Lord of
Misrule. But how gat such a guest into my hall?«
    »Ay, indeed!« cried good old Mr. Wilson. »What little bird of scarlet
plumage may this be? Methinks I have seen just such figures, when the sun has
been shining through a richly painted window, and tracing out the golden and
crimson images across the floor. But that was in the old land. Prithee, young
one, who art thou, and what has ailed thy mother to bedizen thee in this strange
fashion? Art thou a Christian child, - ha? Dost know thy catechism? Or art thou
one of those naughty elfs or fairies, whom we thought
