I wrote this after reading The Scarlet Letter when I was fifteen. I've certainly written stories with more depth since then but all the same, I rather like this story and I hope you do too.

At the corner of a quiet, quaint street in Paris stood a house. It was one of those houses which one immediately wants to enter and never leave. It was expensive but that was not what made it so welcoming, for many a house which costs untold thousands may stand cold, dreary and dark. But this house was bright and open. The rug, the pretty door, the steps, the windows, everything about it was supremely elegant without being snobbish. And it seemed that even the sun realized that for it bathed the house in sunshine all day long favoring it above any others on that street. And the sunshine, of course, reached the garden in the back that combined with the efforts of its' owners and that of the sun, flourished. The flowers and the other plants weren't rare or exotic but were planted in such a beautiful clever manner they seemed to be.

On a couch in the living room sat a young pretty woman and a young man. The woman was wearing a pink dress which highlighted her rosy cheeks and it was evident that she was with child. She was smiling in the way that only comes to young women who are in love. The young man on the other hand, though smiling as well, wore a bewildered look as if he could barely believe he was in this house, sitting next to this young woman who was indeed his wife.

"Me thinkest that any attractiveness I have ever borne is being slowly absorbed by this babe leaving me nothing worth wanting," said the young woman with a particular grimace.

"Oh, no, not at all. For it makes you even more beautiful, Pearl," replied the young man hurriedly. And he was perfectly right. The belief, that beauty and pregnancy cannot share a dwelling in a woman is by far not always true. There are those women, and then there are the other kind, those who just appear more graceful and beautiful and stately than before and fit their role so well, it seems they have been born into it. Indeed Pearl was one of those. The several people that this couple had been acquainted with in the past few months had trouble imagining Pearl looking any different.

Pearl smiled once more at this particular comment whether she believed it or not.

"My mother and I have made plans to attend church tomorrow at noon," said the young man, changing the subject, though he would much rather keep the former one. Pearl uttered a light sigh, for she found the duty and obligations that came with her new family quite burdensome. Yet, she nodded in agreement.

The church that Pearl's husband went to was slightly more free in allowing themselves to be joyful than then one in which Pearl knew her childhood. Even so she disliked attending it. However, she followed her husband like the dutiful wife she was or at least was supposed to be in the church's eyes. At the door her husband greeted his mother, his father, his assorted brothers, sisters, cousins, uncles and aunts. It was at times like this that Pearl most keenly felt how different she was from her husband. For the warm happy home that he knew was alien to her, like the ways of the flock are alien to a strange bird that has spent her life alone. Pearl had never had a father or any other relative for that matter, aside from her mother. Her husband's family tried to welcome her for his sake, but she still didn't fit in and would not until her child was born. For, a child often provides the link between the adults who love him.

Her husband's mother greeted Pearl with a nervous smile, for few of the man's family members knew what to make of this strange beautiful bird that has joined their flock. "Hello, Pearl. How are you and your mother feeling?"

"Very well I presume, though I have not seen her, since she left for our homeland a few months ago," Pearl used the double question to avoid speaking of herself and speak of her mother. She was not feeling completely well, but she did not care to have the woman know it, and she loathed a lie.

"I knew she wasn't here. I have searched in vain for that beautifully engraved scarlet letter," the woman replied. Pearl just smiled. She had begged her mother not to disclose the nature of the dreaded symbol on her bosom to her new relatives. She remembered Hester replying sadly, "If this man truly dost love thee, he shall not leave thee for thy mother's transgressions."

"True, mother, I have no fear of that but t'would cause great embarrassment to him, me, and his whole family. Keep it a secret of thou lovest me!"

"I have known the danger of keeping shameful secrets, Pearl. There is no secret that shall not be disclosed in its' due time," replied Hester, nevertheless she did as her daughter had bid her. She had said to anyone who had asked her about the letter, "It's just a decoration that you will learn to identify me with, by and by."

Pearl and her husband entered the church and dutifully sat through a long sermon. Pearl's heart yearned to be home with her flowers and herbs in the garden and the friendly sunshine on her back. These had always been her best friends for they did not judge or gossip and kept her secrets hidden well. Pearl was one of those that believed in God's splendor and the wonder of his creation much better seeing it and touching it, than sitting in a church and listening. Once out there in the beauty of nature, she could joyfully praise God for creating it.

After church, Pearl turned to her husband and said, "I must stop at the house of Madame le Fleur and take a measurement for her new shawl." Pearl was born with her mother's gift for the needle and thread and though she had no need to work, any more than the lilies of the field did, she enjoyed it heartily. She did not tell her husband that she would take no payment for the shawl, Madame le Fleur being a poor lonely old woman with no extra money to spend. So Pearl parted ways with her husband and continued down the street alone.

After, finally saying goodbye to the grateful woman, Pearl set off toward home. The sun was hanging low in the sky, casting dark shadows onto the ground. And as Pearl walked down the street she heard a bit of a conversation that caused her to stop in her tracks.

"Truly? You wouldn't lie to me; it would not be kind, Felicite."

"Yes, people say that was the sentence of the magistrates in Salem. They placed a scarlet letter on the adulterous woman's bosom and she wore it her entire life, for all people to see. "

"That is a harsh punishment. I suppose the woman had not a moment of peace from then until her death."

"Oh, you are much too merciful, Cosette. A sinful woman of that sort deserved worse. I say they should have killed her."

"Now ladies, it's not for you to talk lightly of the decisions of the authority God has placed." This was an elderly voice, a soft and weak one, therefore ignored by the women.

"What became of the child?"

"She brought up the child alone. If, I were the child, I would be afraid to show my face to decent God-fearing people."

"A scarlet letter, you say? Why that can not be true!" this was a new voice that had been silent all this time."

"It is true, indeed."

"I heard something about a scarlet letter from Madame Diamonte. I believe she wondered whether scarlet letters were coming into fashion. She said a scarlet letter looked quite fine on a woman's bosom." The woman gave an unattractive cackle.

"Speaking of fashion…"

The voices trailed off into discussion of that topic, so much loved in Paris. But Pearl heard no more. She stood still as a marble statue, just as white, and feeling as cold as one. She did not breathe and could think of nothing. She might have fainted at that moment but she made a supreme effort not to and with all the strength she possessed finally took a step, then another, and finally broke into a run. She did not know where she was going or why, she ran blindly, her tears causing the path in front of her to blur into a river. Finally, Pearl ran into the one place she had always found comfort and that was her garden.

Kneeling down, right in her best church dress, Pearl began to pull out weeds. This was her world. This weed was just like hurtful Felicite, spreading her gossip and causing the ruin of her beautiful flowers. She gave it a furious yank, and the weed came out with a burst of earth flying into Pearl's face. She turned to her cherry tree and put her arms around it, the tears running down her face. Yet, finally, little as she wanted to, Pearl forced herself to face what she had just witnessed.

Felicite, as she knew well, would be repeating these words for the next few days to everyone she knew. It was not a question of if, her husband's relatives found out, it was when. She has to tell him. Before he heard from someone else. He would not leave her, she knew that well enough. Pearl had married for love. But she might as well, create a scarlet letter for herself to wear now. This was how disgraced she would be. And the child would be born into ignominy. However, would this not be better that hiding the secret for the rest of her life? Pearl knew not. There is no secret that shall not be disclosed in its' due time Hester had said. Pearl took a deep breath and entered the house.

"Well, what have you planted today?" said her husband turning to her with a slight smile. He knew of his wife's love for her garden. However, upon the sight of Pearl's pale, tear-streaked face he gasped and pulled her close.

"Pearl, you're trembling, are you ill?" he inquired anxiously. "What is the matter, cherie?"

And Pearl told him everything. He listened quietly with his arms around her. At the end she turned to him. This was the test. Would he grow angry or pity her, or think of nothing but the disgrace to follow? All he did however was say, "You might have told me. Surely I would understand."

"The fault was mine," replied Pearl. "Yet, this secret might have remained where it came from and not followed me into my new home and happiness. It was Felicite to blame more so."

"You're not the first person Felicite has hurt. You will forgive her. "

Pearl gave a shuddering sigh. "I finally understand how my mother hath felt all this time."

"Oh, no, Pearl. You are not like your mother. This is no fault of yours and people will know that. They will understand. They will know you by your kind words and actions." He smiled and Pearl realized somehow, he knew about the free shawl for Madame le Fleur. He always knew.

"Moreover, your mother was all alone. You will never be alone."

And Pearl knew at once that it was true. And she also at once knew that the future which had seemed so bleak a few moments ago now seemed bearable as long as faced side by side with the one she loved.