The Puritans' Tribunal

Hester Prynne had always this dreadful agony in feeling a human eye upon the token. The spot never grew callous, it seemed, on the contrary, to grow more sensitive with daily torture. When strangers looked curiously at the scarlet letter, and none ever failed to do so, they branded it a fresh and de-hester soul. But then again, and her custom eye had likewise its own anguish to inflict. Its cool stare of the familiarity was intolerable. If she entered a church trusting to share the Sabbath smile of the universal father, it was often her mishap to find herself the text of the discourse. It could have gonecered no deeper paying had the leaves of

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