 CHAPTER NUMBER 12 OF A RED WALL FLOWER This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Shashank Jagmola. A Red Wall Flower by Susan Warner. The Vacation. The days went too fast as the last half of Pits vacation passed away. Aye, there was no holding them, much as Esther tried to make each one as long as possible. I think Pitt tried too, for he certainly gave his little friend and playmate all he could of pleasure and all he could of himself. Esther shared everything he did very nearly that was not done within his own home. Nothing could have been more delightful than those days of August and September if only the vision of the end of them had not been so near. That vision did not hinder the enjoyment, it intensified it. Every taste of summer and social delight was made keen with that spice of coming pain. Even towards the very last, nothing could prevent Esther's enjoyment of every moment she and Pitt spent together. Only to be together was such pleasure. Every word he spoke was good in her ears and to her eyes every feature of his appearance and every movement of his person was calmly and admirable. She gave him, in fact, a kind of grave worship which perhaps nobody suspected in its degree because it was not displayed in the manner of childish effusiveness. Esther was never effusive. Her manner was always quiet, delicate and dignified, such as a child's can well be. And so even Pitt himself did not fully know how his little friend regarded him though he had sometimes a queer approach to apprehension. It struck him now and then the grave absorbed look of Esther's beautiful eyes. Occasionally he caught a flash of light in them such as in nature only comes from heavily charged clouds. Always she liked to do what he liked and gave quick regard to any expressed wish of his. Always listened to him and watched his doings and admired his successes with the unconditional devotion of an unquestioning faith. Pitt was half aware of all this yet he was at an age when speculation is up to be more busy with matters of the head than of the heart. And besides he was tolerably well accustomed to the same sort of thing at home and took it probably as very natural and quiet in order. And he knew well and did not forget that to the little lonely child his going away would be even more than it might be to his mother the loss of a great deal of brightness out of her daily life. He didn't even dread it a little and as the time drew near he saw that his fears were going to be justified. Esther did not lament her complaint. She never indeed spoke of his going at all but what was much more serious she grew pale and when the last week came the smile died out of her eyes and from her lips. No tears were visible. Pitt would almost rather have seen her cry like a child much as with all other men he hated tears. It would have been better than this preternatural gravity with which the large eyes opened at him and the soft mouth refused to give away. She seemed to enter into everything they were doing with no less interest than usual. She was not obstructed. Rather Pitt caught the impression that she carried about with her and brought into everything the perfect recollection that he was going away. It began to oppress him. I wish I could feel mother that you would look a little after that motherless child. He said in a sort of despairing attempt one evening she is not fatherless. Mrs. Dallas answered compositely No, but a girl wants a mother. She is accustomed to the want now. Mother, it isn't kind of you. How would you have me show kindness? Mrs. Dallas asked calmly. Now that Pitt was going away and safe she could treat the matter without excitement. What would colonel Gansboro like me to do for his daughter, do you think? Pitt was silent and wixed. What do you want me to do for her? I'd like you to be a friend to her. She will need one. If her father dies, he mean. If he lives she will be very lonely when I'm gone away. That is because he have accustomed her so much to your company. I never thought it was wise. She will get over it in a little while. Would she? Pitt studied her next day and much doubted his mother's assertion. All the months of his last term in college had not been enough to weaken in the least Esther's love for him. It was real, honest, genuine love and of very pure quality. A diamond, he was ready to think of the first water. Only a child's love. But Pitt had to find a nature himself to despise a child's love and full as his head was of novelties, hopes and plans and purposes There was space in his heart for a very tender concern about Esther beside. It came to the last evening and he was sitting with her on the veranda. It was rather cool there now. The roses and honeysuckles and the summer moonshine were gone. The two friends chose to stay there because they could be alone and nobody overheard their words. Words for a little while had ceased to flow. Esther was sitting very still and Pitt knew how she was looking. Something of the dry despair had come back to her face which had been in it when he was first moved to busy himself about her. Esther, I shall come back. He said subtly, banding down to look in her face. When, she said, half under her breath, it was not a question, it was an answer. Well, not immediately, but the years pass away fast. Don't you know that? Are you sure you will come back? Why, certainly, if I am alive, I will. Why, if I came for nothing else, I would come to see after you, Queen Esther. Esther was silent. Talking was not easy. And meanwhile, I shall be busy and you will be busy. Both a great deal to do. You have. And I am sure you have. Now let us consult. What have you got to do before we see one another again? I suppose, said Esther, take care of Papa. She said it in a quiet matter-of-course tone and Pitt started a little. It was very likely, but it had not just occurred to him before, how large a part that care might play in the girl's life for some time to come. Does he need so much care? He asked. It isn't real care, said Esther, in the same tone, but he likes to have me about to do things for him. Queen Esther, aren't you going to carry on your studies for me, all the same? For you, said she, lifting her heavy eyes to him. It hurt him to see how heavy they were, weighted with a great load of sorrow, too mighty for tears. For me, certainly, I expect everything to go on just as if I were here to look after it. I expect everything to go on so that when I come again, I may find just what I want to find. You must not disappoint me. Esther did not say. She made no answer at all, and after a minute put a question which was a diversion. Where are you going first, Pitt? To Lisbon. Yes, I know that, but when you get to England, London first, you know that is the great English centre. Do you know any people there? Not I, but I have a great uncle there, living at Kensington. I believe that is part of London, though really, there is not too much about it. I shall go to see him, of course. Your great uncle, that is, Mr Dallas' own uncle? No, my mother's. His name is Trann. And then you are going to Oxford. Why do you go there? Are not the colleges in America just as good? I can tell better after I have seen Oxford. But no, Queen Esther, that is larger and older and richer than which in America can be. Indeed, it is a cluster of colleges. It is a university. Are you studying them all? No, said Pitt, laughing. Not exactly, but it is a fine place, by all accounts, a noble place. And then, you know, we are English. And my father and mother wish me to be as English as possible. That is natural. We are English too, said Esther, sighing. Therefore you ought to be glad I am going. But Esther's cheeks only grew a shade paler. Will you keep up your studies like a good girl? I will try. And send me a drawing now and then to let me see how you are getting on. She lifted her eyes to him again for how of those grave appealing looks. How could I get it to you? Your father will have my address. I shall write to him, and I shall write to you. She made no answer. The things filling her heart were too many for it, and too strong. There came no tears, but her breathing was laboured and her brow was dark with what seemed a mountain of oppression. Pitt was half glad that just now there came a call for Esther from the room behind them. Both went in. The colonel wanted Esther to search in a repository of paper for a certain English print of some month's back. Well, my boy, said he. Are you off? Just off, sir, said Pitt. I'm the little figure that was busy in the corner among the papers. It was him more pain than he had thought to leave it. I wish you would come over, colonel. Why shouldn't you? It would do you good. I shall never leave this place again upon the high seas. I shall never leave this place again till I leave all that is earthly. Colonel Gainsborough answered, May I take the liberty sometimes of writing to you, sir? I should like it very much, Williams. And if I find anything that would amuse Esther, sir, may I tell her about it? I have no objection. She will be very much obliged to you. So you are going. Heaven be with you, my boy. You have lightened many an hour for me. He rose up and shook Pitt's hand with a warm grasp and a dignified manner of leaf-taking. But when Pitt would have taken Esther's hand, she brushed past him and went out into the hall. Pitt followed, with another bow to the colonel and courteously shutting the door behind him, wishing the work well over. Esther, however, made no fuss, hardly any demonstration. She stood there in the hall and gave him her hand silently. I might say coldly, for the hand was very cold and her face was white with suppressed feeling. Pitt grasped the hand and looked at the face, hesitated, then opened his arms and took her into them and kissed her. Was she not like a little sister? And was it possible to let this heart a go without elevation? No doubt if the colonel had been present, he would not have ventured such a breach of forms. But as it was Pitt defied forms, he clasped the soaring little girl in his arms and kissed her bro and her cheek and her lips. I'm coming back again, said he, see that you have everything all right for me when I come. Then he let her out of his arms and went off without another word. As he went home, he was ready to smile and shake himself at the warmth of demonstration into which he had been betrayed. He was not Esther's brother and had no particular right to show himself so affectionate. The colonel would have been, he doubted, less than pleased and it would not have happened in his dignified presence. But Esther was a child, Pitt said to himself and he could not be sorry that he had shown her the feeling was not all on her side. Perhaps it might comfort the child. It never occurred to him to reproach himself with showing more than he felt for he had no occasion. The feeling he had given expression to was entirely genuine and possibly deeper than he knew, although he shook his head figuratively at himself as he went home. The door closed upon Pitt, stood still for some minutes in the realisation that now it was all over and he was gone. The hall door was like a grim kind of barrier behind which the light of her life had disappeared. It remained so stolidly closed. Pitt's hand did not open it again. The hand was already at a distance and would maybe never push that door open any more. It was gone and the last day of that summer vacation was over. The feeling absorbed Esther for a few minutes and made her as still as a stone. It did comfort her that he had taken such a kindly leave of her and at the same time it sealed the sense of her loss. For he was the only one in the world and whose heart it was to give her good earnest kisses like that and he was away, away. Her father's affection for her was undoubted. Nevertheless it was not his wound to give it that sort of expression. Esther was not comparing however nor reflecting. Only filled with the sense of her loss which for the moment chilled and stiffened her. She heard her father's voice calling her and she went in. My dear, you stay too long in the cold. Is William gone? Oh yes, Papa. That is not the right paper I want. This is an August paper. I won the one for the last week in July. Esther went and rummaged again among the pile of newspapers, mechanically, finding it hard to command her attention to such an indifferent business. She brought the July paper at last. Papa, do you think he will ever come back? She asked, trembling with pain not to show it. Come back who? William Dallas? Why shouldn't he come back? His parents are here. If he lives he will return to them, no doubt. Esther sat and said no more. The earth seemed to her dreadfully empty. End of chapter number 12 Chapter 13 of a Red Wall Flower This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the red domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Nancy Cochran-Gergen Gilbert, Arizona. A Red Wall Flower by Susan Warner. Chapter 13 Letters And so life seemed for many days to the child. She could not shake off the feeling nor regain any brightness of spirit. Dull, dull. It seemed to be. The taste and savor had gone out of all her pleasures and occupations. She could not read without the image of Pitt coming between her and the page. She could not study without an unendurable sense that he was no longer there nor going to be there to hear her lessons. She had no heart for walks where every place would call some memory of Pitt and what they had done to the boys and hardly cared to gather one of the few lingering fall flowers and the last of them were soon gone where the pleasant season was ended. Then came rains and clouds and winds and Esther was shut up to the house. I can never tell how desolate she was. Truly she was only a girl of 13. She ought not to have been desolate perhaps for any no greater matter. She had her father and her books and her youth but Esther had also a nature delicate and deep far beyond what is common and then she was unduly matured by her peculiar life. Intercourse with lighthearted children like herself had not kept her thoughtless and careless. At 13 Esther was looking into life and finding it already confused and dark. At 13 also she was learning and practicing self-command. Her father, not much of an observer unless in the field of primary operations, had no perception that she was suffering. It never occurred to him that she might be solitary. He never knew that she needed his tenderest care and society and guidance. He might have replaced everything to Esther so that she would have found no one at all. He did nothing of the kind. He was a good man, just and upright and highly honorable but he was selfish like most men. He lived to himself in his own deprivation and sorrow and never thought that Esther would, in a few days, get over the loss of her young teacher and companion. He hardly thought about it at all. The idea of filling Pitt's place of giving her, in his own person, what left her when Pitt went away did not enter his head. Indeed, he had no knowledge of what Pitt had done for her. If he had known it, there is little doubt it would have excited his jealousy for it is quite in some people's nature to be jealous of others having what they do not want themselves. And so Esther suffered in a way and to a degree that was not good for her. Her old, dull, spiritless condition was creeping upon her again. She realized, more than it is the way of thirteen-year-olds to realize that something more than an ocean of waters, an ocean of circumstances had rolled itself between her and the one-friended companion she had ever had. Pitt said he would return for all present purposes is a sort of eternity at her age. Hope could not leave over it and expectation died at the brink. Her want of comfort came back in full force. But where was the girl to get it? The sight of Mr. and Mrs. Dallas used to put her in a fever. Once in a while the two would come to make an evening call upon her father and then Esther used to withdraw as far as possible into a corner of the room and watch and listen. Watch the looks of the pair with a kind of irritated fascination and listen to their talk with their heart jumping and throbbing in pain and anxiety and passionate longing. For they were Pitt's father and mother and only the ocean of waters lay between him and them, which they could cross at any time. He belonged to them and could not be separated from them, all of which would have drawn Esther very near to them and made them delightful to her. But that she knew very well and desired no such approach. Whether it was simply because she and her father were dissenters, Esther could not tell. Whatever the reason, her sensitive nature and discerning vision saw the fact. They made visits of neighborly politeness to the one English family that was within reach, but more than politeness they desired neither to give nor receive. I suppose it was this perception which made the sight of the pair that they did not wish that she should be. Esther kept well at a distance, but with all this they talked of their son perpetually, of his voyage, of his prospects, of his grand-uncle that Kensington, of his career in college, or at the university rather, and of his possible permanent remaining in the old country, at any rate, of his studying there for a profession. The Colonel was only finely interested and would take up his book with a sigh of relief when they were gone. But Esther would sit in passionate misery, not shedding any tears, only staring with her big eyes at the livery inner sort of fixed gravity most unfit for her years. The months went heavily. Winters were rather severe and very long at Seaforth. Esther was much shut up to the house. It made things so the harder for her. To the Colonel it made no difference. He lay upon his couch, summer or winter, and went on with his half-hearted reading. Half a heart was all he brought to it. But Esther would stand at the window, watching the snow drive past, or the beating down of the rain, or the glitter of the sunbeams upon a wide, white world, and almost wonder at the thought that warm lights and soft airs and flowers and walks and botanizing had ever been out there, where now the glint of the sunbeams on the snow crystals was as sharp as it could be. And the snow was as sharp as it could be. And the glint of the sunbeams and all vegetable life seemed to be gone forever. Pitt had sailed in November, various difficulties having delayed his departure to a month later than the time intended for it. Therefore news from him could not be looked for until the new year was on its way. Towards the end of January, however, I suppose it came by private opportunity. Papa, you look a long while at the outside, said Esther, who stood by full of excited impatience which she knew better than to show. The outside has its interest too, my dear, said her father. I was looking for the Lisbon postmark, but there is none whatever. It must have come by private hand. He broke the seal and found within an enclosure directed to Esther, which she gave her, and Esther presently left the room. Her father, she saw, was deep in the contents of his letter and would not notice her going, while if she stayed in the room she knew she would be called upon to read her own letter or to show it before she was ready. She wanted to enjoy the full first taste of it, slowly and thoroughly. Meanwhile, the Colonel never noticed her going. His letter was dated Lisbon Christmas Day 1813, and ran as follows. My dear Colonel, I have landed at last, as you see, in this dirtiest of all places I ever was in. I realize now why America is called the New World, for everything here drives the consciousness upon me that the world on this side is very old. So old, I should say, that it is past cleansing. I do suppose it is not fair to compare it with Seaforth, which is as bright in comparison as if it were an ocean shell shining with pure lights. But I certainly hope things will mend when I get to London. But I did not mean to talk to you about Lisbon, which I suppose you know better than I do. My hope is to give you the pleasure of an early piece of news. Probably the papers will already have given it to you, but it is just possible that the chances of weather and ships made up my letter is great news. Napoleon has been beaten, beaten. Isn't that great? He has lost a hundred thousand men and is driven back over the Rhine. Holland has joined the Allies and the Prince of Orange, and Lord Wellington has fought such a battle as history hardly tells of. Seven days fighting and victory ranks with the greatest that ever were gained. That is all I can tell you now, but it is so good you can afford to wait for further details. It is now more difficult than ever to get into France, and I don't know yet how I am going to make my way to England. It is especially hard for Americans, and I must be reckoned an American, you know. However, money will overcome all difficulties. Money and persistence. I have written to Esther something about my voyage, which will, I hope, interest her. I will do myself the pleasure of writing again when I get to London. Meanwhile, dear sir, I remain, ever your grateful and most obedient, William Pitt Dallas. Esther, while her father was reveling in this letter, was taking a very different sort of pleasure in hers. There was a fire upstairs in her room. She lit a candle, and, in the exquisite sense of having her enjoyment all to herself, was slowly over the lines, as slowly as she could. The day, 1813. My dear little Esther, if you think of voyage over the sea isn't anything like a journey by land that you are mistaken. The only one thing in which they are like is that in both ways you get on. But we else go smoothly, even over a jolty road, and waves do nothing but toss you. It was just one succession of rollings and pitchings from the time we left New Bedford till we get sight of the coast of Portugal. The wind blew all the time almost agale, rising at different points of our passage to the full desert of the name. One violent storm we had, and all the rest of the voyage we were pitching about at such a rate that we had to fight for our meals. Tables were broken, and coffee and chocolate poured about with a reckless disregard of economy. For about a half the way it rained persistently. So altogether you may suppose, Queen Esther, who was in love with the sea. But it wasn't bad after all. The wind drove so long that was one comfort, and it would have driven us along much faster if our sails had been good for anything. But they were a rotten set, a match for the crew who were a rascally band of Portuguese. However, we drove along, as I said, seeing nobody to speak to all the way except ourselves. Now the sail in sight of the 23rd recited land to everybody's great joy, you may suppose. The wind fell, and that night was one of the most beautiful and delicious you can imagine. A smooth sea without a ripple, a clear sky without a cloud, stars shining down quietly, and air as soft as may at sea forth. I stood on deck half the night, enjoying and thinking of five hundred thousand things one after another. Now that I was almost setting my foot my life, past and future, seemed to rise up and confront me, and I looked at it and took counsel with it as it were. Sea forth on one side and Oxford on the other. The question was, what should William Pitt be between them? The question never looked so big to me before. Somehow, I believed, the utter perfection of the night suggested to me the idea of perfection generally, what a moral may come to when at is best. Such a view of nature as I was having puts one out of conceit, I believe, with whatever is out of order, unseemly or untrue, or what for any reason this is the end of its existence. Then, rose the question, what is the end of existence? But I did not mean to give you my moralizing, Queen Esther. I have drifted into it. I can tell you, though, that my moralizing got a sharp emphasis the next day. I turned in at last, leaving the world of air and water a very image of peace. I slept rather late, I suppose, was awakened by the hoarse voice of the captain calling all hands on deck in a manner that showed me there must be urgent cause. I tumbled up as soon as possible. What do you think I saw? The morning was as fair as the night had been. The sea was smooth, the sun shining brilliantly. I suppose the Colonel would tell you that seas may be too smooth. Anyhow, I saw the fact now. There had been not wind enough during the night to make our sails of any use. A current had caught us, and we had been drifting, drifting, till now at a period we were drifting straight onto a line of rocks, which we could see at a little distance, made known both to eye and ear, to the former by a line of white where the waves broke upon the rocks, and to the latter by the thundering noise the breakers made. Now you know where waves break a ship would stand very long chance of holding together. But what were we to do? The only thing possible we did let out our anchors. But the question was, would they hold? They did hold, but none too soon. For we were left riding only about three times our ship's length from the threatening danger. You see, we had a drunken crew. No proper watch was kept. The captain was first roused by the thunder of the waves dashing upon the rock, and then nothing was ready or in order, and before the anchors could be got out we were where I tell you. The anchors held, but we could not tell how long they whiffled, nor how soon the force of the waves would drag us, cables and all, to the rocks. There we sat and looked at the view and situation. We hoisted a signal and fired guns of distress, but we were in front of a rocky shore with no hopes of either being of avail. At last, after three hours at this, the captain and some of the passengers got into the yaw and went off to find help. We, left behind, stared at the breakers. After three more hours had gone I saw the yaw coming back, followed by another small boat and further off by four royal pilot boats from sails. I saw them with a glass, that is, from my station in the rigging. When they came up, all the passengers except half a dozen of whom I was one were transferred to the pilot boats. You should have heard the jabber of the Portuguese when they came on board, but the captain had determined to try to save his break as by this time a slight breeze had sprung up and I stayed with some of the others to help in the endeavor. When the rest of the passengers were safe on board the pilot boats we set about our critical undertaking. Sails were spread, one anchor hoisted, the cable of the other cut and we stood holding our breath to see whether wind or water would prove strongest. But the sails drew, the break slowly fell off before the wind and we edged away from our perilous position. Then, when we were fairly off, there rose a roar of shouts that rend the air. For the boats had all waited, lying a few rods off and it would become of us. Queen Esther, I can tell you if I had been a woman I should have sat down and cried. What I did, I won't say. As I looked back to the scene of our danger there was a most lovely rainbow spanning it showing in the cloud of spray that rose above the breakers. At six o'clock on Christmas Eve I landed at Lisbon where I got comfortable quarters in an English boarding house. When I can get to London I am here at a great time to see history as it is taking shape in human life and experience. Something different from looking at it as cast in the bronze or silver in former ages and packed up in a box of coins. Hey, Queen Esther? But that's good too in its way. Your father will tell you the news. You devoted subject William Ted Dallas End of Chapter 13 Recording by Nancy Cochran-Gergen Gilbert, Arizona Chapter 14 of A Red Wallflower This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Nancy Cochran-Gergen Gilbert, Arizona A Red Wallflower by Susan Warner Chapter 14 Struggles Esther sat swallowed up of excitement pouring over this letter and knew whether it gave her most pain or pleasure she could not have told. Pleasure came in a great wave at first and then pricks of pain began to make themselves felt as if the pleasure wave had been full of sharp points. Her cheeks glowed, her eyes sent looks or rather one steady look at the paper which would certainly have boarded through or set it on fire if moral qualities had taken to themselves material power. Remembering that she must not stay too long, she folded the letter up and returned to her father. He had taken his letter coolly, she saw, and gone back to his book. How far his world was from hers. Absolutely Fitzlighter was nothing to him. Well, my dear, said he after a while observing her. What does he say? I suppose he told you Papa, what happened to him? No, he did not. He only told me what is happening to the world. He has gone to Europe at grand time. What is happening to the world, Papa? My dear, that arch usurper and mischief maker, Napoleon Bonaparte has been beaten by the Allied armies at Leipzig, driven back over the Rhine. It's glorious news. I wish I was with Lord Wellington. To fight Papa? Certainly, I would like to have a hand in what is going on. If I could, he added with a sigh. But Papa, I should think fighting was not pleasant work. Woman's fighting is not. Is men's fighting, Papa? Pleasant? It is pleasant to have a blow at a rascal. Ah well, my fighting days are over. What does Pitt tell you? About his voyage, Papa, nothing else. Are you going to let me hear it? Esther would a little rather have kept it to herself simply because it was so precious to her. However, this question was a command, and she read the letter aloud to her father. With that the matter was disposed of, in all but her own mind. For the final result of the letter was to stir up all the pain the writers have since had caused, and to add to it some new elements of aggravation. Esther had not realized, to those letters came, how entirely the writer of them had gone out of the world. In love and memory she had in a sword still kept him near. Without vision she had yet been not fully separated from him. Now these pictures of the other world and of Pitt's life in it came like a bright, sheer blade severing the connection which had until then subsisted between her life and his. Yes, he was in another world, and there was no connection any longer. He had not forgotten her yet, but he would forget. How could he not? How could he help it? In the rich sweep of variety and change in e-reaction which filled him with experience, what thought could he have any more for that quiet figure on the sofa or this lonely little child whose life contained no interest whatever, or how could his thoughts return at all to this dull room where everything remained with no change from morning to night and from one week to another? As the games broke there on the sofa, always that same green clock covered the table in the middle of the floor and the view of the snow-covered garden and road and fields outside the windows with those everlasting polished poppers along the fence. While Europe was in commotion and armies rolling their masses over it and Napoleon fleeing and Lord Wellington chasing and every breath was full of eagerness and hope and triumph and purpose in that world without. Esther fell back into a kind of despair. Pit was gone from her. Now she realized that fact thoroughly. Not only gone in person, but moved far off in mind. Maybe he might write again once or twice, very likely he would, or he was kind, but his life was henceforth separated from seaport and from all the other life that had its home there. The old cry for comfort began to sound out with a terrible urgency. Where was it to come from? And as the child had only one possible outlook for comfort, she began to set her face that way in a kind of resolute determination. That is, she began to shut herself up with her Bible and search it as a man who is poor searches for a hidden treasure or as one who is starving looks for something to eat. Nobody knew. She shut herself up and carried down her search alone and troubled nobody with questions. Nobody ever noticed the year of the child. The grave, faraway look of her eyes, the pale face, the unnaturally quiet demeanor. At least nobody noticed it to any purpose. Mrs. Barker did communicate to Christopher her belief that that child was moping herself in the 90 years old. And they would both agree that she ought to be sent to school. A girl don't grow just like one of my cabbages, said Mr. Bounder. That'll make a head for itself. Mrs. Esther's got a head put in Mrs. Barker. Don't be solid in that. If it ain't looked after, retorted her brother. I don't suppose you understand the natural world though. What's the Colonel thinking about? That ain't your and my business, Christopher, but I do worry myself about Mrs. Esther's face the way I seize it sometimes. The Colonel, it is true, sees it as Mrs. Barker saw not but that he might if he had ever watched her. But he did not watch. It never occurred to him that everything went right with Esther. When she made him his tea, she was attentive and womanly. When she read aloud to him, she read intelligently. And in the reciting of the few lessons she did with her father, there was always no fault to find. How could the Colonel suppose anything was wrong? Life had become a dull, sad story to him. Why should it be different to anybody else? Nay, the Colonel would not have said that in words. It was rather the supine condition in which he had lapsed than any conclusion of his intelligence. But the fact was, he had no realization of the fact that a child's life ought to be bright and gay. He accepted Esther's sedate, unvarying tone and manner as quite the right thing to suit him perfectly. Nobody else saw the girl except a church. The family had not cultivated the society of their neighbors in the place and Esther had no friends among them. There was a long succession of months during which things went on after this fashion. Very weary months to Esther. Indeed, months covered by so thick a gloom that part of the child's life consisted in the struggle to break it. Letters did not come frequently even to his father and mother. He wrote that it was difficult to get a vessel to take American letters at all and that the chances were 10 to 1 if accepted that they would never get to the hands they were intended for. American letters or American passengers were sometimes held to vitiate the neutrality of a vessel and if chased she would be likely to throw them, that is, the former overboard. It was detained still in Lisbon in the difficulty of giving passports as late as the middle of March but expected then soon to sail for England. His passage was taken. So Mr. and Mrs. Dallas reported on one of their evening visits. They talked a great deal of politics at these visits which sometimes interested Esther and sometimes scored her excessively. But this last bit of private news was brought one evening about the end of April. He has not gained much from his work, remarked the Colonel. He might as well have studied this term at Yale. He will not have lost his time, said Mr. Dallas comfortably. He is there that is one thing and he is looking about him and now he will have time to feel a little at home in England and make all his arrangements before his studies begin. It is very well as it is. If you think so it is, said the Colonel dryly. The next news was that Pitt had landed at Falmouth and was going by post-Chase to London in a day or two. He reported having just got Lord Byron's two last poems, The Corsair and The Bride of Abadote. Wished he could send them home but that was not so easy. He had better send them home or send them anywhere said the Colonel and give his attention to Sophocles and Euclid. Light poetry does not amount to anything. It is worse than waste of time. I don't want a man to be made of Greek and Latin, said Mrs. Dallas. Do you think only the ancients wrote what is worthy to be read, Colonel? They didn't write Nonsense, my dear madam, and Byron does. Nonsense! Worse than nonsense. Won't do to inquire too strictly into what the old Greeks and Romans wrote if folks say true, remarked Mr. Dallas slightly. In the dead languages, it won't do a young man so much harm, said the Colonel. I hope William will give himself now to his Greek, since you have afforded him such opportunity. Mrs. Dallas' error, as she rose to take leave, was inimitably expressive of proud confidence and rejection of the question. Mr. Dallas laughed carelessly and said, as he shook the Colonel's hand, no fear. This news they had came direct. Another letter from Pitt to the Colonel, and, as before, it enclosed one for Esther. Esther ran away again to have the first reading and indulge herself in the first impressions of it, alone and free from question or observation. She even locked her door. This letter was written from London and dated May 1814. My dear Queen Esther, I wish you were here, and you would have some famous walks together. Do you know I am in London? And that means, in one of the most wonderful places in the world, you can have no idea what sort of a place it is, and no words I can write will tell you. I have not got over my own sense of astonishment and admiration yet. Indeed, it is growing, not lessening, and every time I go out, I come home more bewildered with what I have seen. Do you ask me why? In the first place, because it is so big. Next, because of the unimaginable throng of human beings of every grade and variety. Such a multitude of human lives crossing each other in an intraceable and interminable network. Intraceable to the human eye, but what a sight it must be to the eye that sees all. All these people, so many hundreds of thousands, acting and reacting upon one another's happiness, prosperity, goodness and badness. Now, at such a place as Seaforth people are left a good deal to their individuality and are comparatively independent of one another. But here, I feel what a pressure and bondage men's lives draw around each other. It makes me catch my breath. You will not care about this, however, nor be able to understand me. But another thing you would care for and delight in, and that is historical associations of London. Queen Esther, it is delightful. You and I have looked at coins and read books together and looked at history so, but here I seem to touch it. I have been today to Charon Cross, standing and wandering about and wondering at the things that have happened there. Ask your father to tell you about Charon Cross. I could hardly come away. If you ask me how I know so well what happened there, I will tell you. I have found an old uncle here. You know I had one? He lives just a little out of London or out of the thick of London in a place that is called Kensington in a queer old house which, however, I like very much and that is filled with curiosities. It is in a place in situation, not far from one of the public parks though it is not called a park but garden with one or two palaces and a number of noble mansions about it. My uncle received me very hospitably and would have me come and make my home with him while I am in London. That is nice for me and in many ways. He is a character, this old uncle of mine, something of an antiquary, a good deal of a hermit, a lilac centric, but stuffed with local knowledge and a need with knowledge of many sorts. I think he has taken a fancy somehow, Queen Esther. At any rate, he is very kind. He seems to like to go about with me and show me London and explain to me what London is. He was there at Charon Cross with me holding forth on history and politics. He is a great Tory. Ask the Colonel what that is. And really I seem to see the ages rolling before me as he talked and I looked at Northumberland House and at the brazen statue of Charles first. If I had time, I would tell you about then as Mr. Strahan told me and yesterday I was in the House of Commons and heard some great talking and tomorrow we are going to the Tower. I think if you are only here to go too, we should have a first rate sort of a time. But I will try and tell you about it. And talking of history, Mr. Strahan has some beautiful coins. There is one of Philip of Macedon and two of Alexander. Think of that Queen Esther and some exquisite gold pieces of Tarentum and Syracuse. How your eyes would look at them. Well study up everything so that when we meet again we may talk up all the world. I shall be very hard at work myself soon as soon as I go to Oxford. In the meantime I am rather hard at work here, although to be sure the work is played. This is a very miserable bit of paper and nothing in it just because I have so much to say. If I had time I would write it over but I have not time. The next shall be better. I am a great deal with Mr. Strahan indoors as well as out. I wish I could show you his house Queen. It is old and odd and pretty. Thick wall walls, little windows and deep recesses. No ceilings and high ceilings for different parts of the house as well as other. Most beautiful dark oak and wainscotting, carved deliciously and grown black with time and big hospitable chimney pieces with fires of English soft coal. Some of the rooms are rather dark to me who am accustomed to the son of America pouring in at a wealth of big windows but others are to me quite charming and this plain old house is filled with treasures and curiosities. Mr. Strahan lives in it quite along with his friends. A factotum of a housekeeper and another factotum of a man servant. I must say I find it intelligible that he should take pleasure in having you with him. Goodbye for tonight. I'll write soon again. William Pitt Dallas As on occasion of the former letter Esther lingered long over the reading of this her uneasiness not appeased by it at all. Then at last went down to her father to whom the uneasiness was quite unknown and unsuspected. I think William writes the longest letters to you he remarked. What does he say this time? Esther read her letter loud. Will has fallen on his feet was the comment. What does he say to you Papa? Not much and yet a good deal you may read it for yourself. Which Esther did eagerly Pitt had told her father about his visit to the House of Commons. I had yesterday he wrote a rare pleasure which you my dear Colonel would have appreciated. Mr. Strahan took me to the House of Commons and I heard Mr. Cannon Mr. Whitbread Mr. Wilberforce Mr. Ponsonby and others on what question do you think? Nothing less than the duty which lies upon England just at this moment to use the advantage of her influence with her allies in Europe to get them to join with her in putting down the slave trade. It was a royal occasion and the enjoyment of it quite beyond description. Today I have been standing at Charon Cross looking at the statue of Charles first and wondering at the world my granduncle is a good Tory and held forth eloquently as we stood there. Don't tell my mother. But privately my dear Colonel I seem to discover in myself traces of wiggism whether it be nature or your influence or the air of America that has caused it to grow I know not. But there it is. My mother would be very seriously disturbed if she suspected the fact. As to my father I really never discovered to my satisfaction what his politics are. To Mr. Strahan I listen reverently. It is not necessary for me to say to him all that comes into my head but it came into my head today as I stood gazing up at the equestrian statue at Charon Cross that it would better become the English people to have John Handen there than that miserable old trickster Charles Sturt asked her red and reread Papa she said at last what is a Tory? It is a party name my dear it is given to a certain political party. You are not a Tory? No if I had been I should never have found my way here the colonel said it with a sigh Then I suppose you are a wig and are Mr. and Mrs. Dallas Tories? Hoof Will says his mother is he ought to know What is the difference Papa? My dear I don't know that you can understand the names grew up in the old days when the stewards were trying to get all the power of the government into their own hands and to leave none to the people Those who stood by the King through thick and thin were called Tories Those who tried to limit him and guard the people's liberties were Wigs What were names? Papa are there Wigs and Tories in England now? What are called so? Are the King still trying to get away the liberties of the people? No my child those are pretty well secured and here we have no King at all I don't see how you can be a wig or Mrs. Dallas Tories There are always the two parties One that sticks by the government and aims to strengthen its hands right or wrong and the other that looks out for the liberties of the people and watches that they be not infringed or tampered with Esther thought a while but not exclusively over the political question It might have occurred to an older person to wonder how William Pitt got his name from parents who were both Tories The fact was that here, as in many another case money was the solution of the difficulty A rich relation who was also radical had promised to find legacy to the boy if he were given the name of the famous Wig statesman and Mr. Mrs. Dallas had swallowed the pill for help of the sugar About this Esther knew nothing Papa she said It's so fond of England that he will never want to come back It would not be strange if he did Is England so much better than America, Papa? It is England, my dear The Colonel said with an expression which meant she could not tell what End of Chapter 14 Recording by Nancy Cochran-Gergen Gilbert, Arizona Chapter 15 of A Red Wallflower by Susan Warner A Red Wallflower by Susan Warner Chapter 15 Comfort Those letters on the whole did not comfort Esther The momentary intense pleasure was followed by inevitable dull reaction and contrast and before she had well got over the effect of one batch of letters a red wallflower by Susan Warner the effect of one batch of letters another came and she was kept in a perpetual stir and conflict for Pitt proved himself a good correspondent although it was June before the first letter from his parents reached him so he reported writing on the third of that month and told that the Allied sovereigns were just then leaving Paris for a visit to the British capital and all the London world was on tiptoe Great luck for me to be here just now he wrote and so everybody at home agreed Mrs. Dallas grew more stately Esther thought with every visit she made at the Colonel's house and she and her husband made many it was a necessity to have someone to speak to about Pitt and Pitt's letters and it was urgent likewise that Mrs. Dallas should know if letters had been received by the same mail at this other house she always found out one way or another and then she would ask and scan with eager eyes the sheet the Colonel generally granted her of the letters to Esther nothing was said but Esther lived in fear and trembling that some inadvertent word might let her know of their existence another necessity which brought the Dallas as often to Colonel Gainesborough's was the political situation they could hardly discuss it with anybody else in Seaforth and what is the use of a political situation if you cannot discuss it all the rest of the families in the neighbourhood were strong Americans and even Pitt in his letters was more of an American than anything else indeed so much more that it gave his mother sad annoyance he told of the temper of the English people at this juncture of the demands to be made by the English Government before they would hear of peace of a strong force sent to Canada and the general indignant and belligerent tone of feeling and speech among members of Parliament but Pitt did not write as if he sympathised with it he has lived here too long already side his mother not if he is destined to live here the rest of his life my dear madame said the Colonel he will not do that he will end by settling in England will may have his own views on that as on some other things by the time he has gone through the University and studied for his profession he will be more of an Englishman Mr. Dallas observed contentedly he will choose for himself what profession have you fixed upon one or has he time enough yet for that but your property lies here I am here to take care of it said Mr. Dallas laughing a little all this sort of talk which Esther heard often with variations made one thing clear to her namely that if it depended on his father and mother the return to his native country would be long delayed or finally prevented it did not entirely depend on them everybody knew who knew him nevertheless it seemed to Esther that the fascinations of the old world must be great and the feeling of the distance between her and Pitt grew with every letter it was not the fault of the letters or of the writer in any way nor was it the effect the latter were intended to produce but Esther grew more and more despondent about him and then after a few months the letters became short and rare Pitt had gone to Oxford and from the time of his entering the university plunged head and ears into business so eagerly that time and disposition failed for writing home letters did come from time to time but there was much less in them and those for Colonel Gainsborough were at long intervals so when the second winter of Pitt's absence began to set in Esther reckoned him to all intents and purposes lost to her life the girl went with increased eagerness and intentness to the one resource she had her bible the cry for happiness is so natural to the human heart that it takes long oppression to stifle it the cry was strong in Esther's young nature strong and imperative and in all the world around her she saw no promise of help or supply the spring at which she had slaked her thirst was dried up the desert was as barren to her eye as it had been to Hagar's but unlike Hagar she sought with a sort of desperate eagerness in one quarter where she believed water might be found when people search in that way unless they get discouraged their searches apt to come to something unless indeed they are going after a mirage and it was no mirage that hovered before Esther no vision of anything indeed she was searching into the meaning of a promise and as I said nobody knew nobody helped her the months of that winter rolled slowly and gloomily over her Esther was between 14 and 15 now her mind just opening to a consciousness of its powers and a growing dawn of its possibilities life was unfolding not its meaning but something of its extent and richness to her less than ever could she content herself to have it a desert the study went on all through the winter with no visible change or result but with the breaking spring the darkness and icebound state of Esther's mind seemed to break up too another look came into the girl's face a high quiet calm a light like the light of the spring itself so gracious and tender and sweet Esther was changed the duties which she had done all along with a dull punctuality were done now with a certain blessed alacrity her eye got its life of expression again and a smile more sweet than any former ones came readily to the lips I do not think the Colonel noticed all this or if he noticed at all he simply thought Esther was glad of the change of season the winter to be sure had kept her very much shut up the servants were more observing do you know we're going to have a beauty in this year house inquired Christopher one evening of his sister with a look of sly search as if to see whether she knew it are we asked the housekeeper a beauty and no mistake why Sarah can't you see it I sees all there is to see in the family the housekeeper returned with a superior air then you see that she's grown and changed in common within a year she's a very sweet young lady Mrs. Barker agreed and she's going to be a stunner for looks Christopher repeated with that same sly observation of his sister's face she'll be better looking than ever her mother was Mrs. Gainsborough was a handsome woman too said the housekeeper but Mrs. Esther is very promising you're right there she's very promising she's just beginning to show what she will be she's got over her dumps lately uncommon I judged the dumps was natural enough situated as she is but she's come out of them she's opening up like a white camellia and there ain't anything that grows that has less shadow to it though maybe it ain't what you call a gay flower thoughtfully is that them stiff white flowers that has no smell to them the same Mrs. Barker if you mean what I mean then I wouldn't like Mrs. Asta to know she's sweet she is and she ain't noy stiff she has just what I call the manna's a young lady ought to have can't beat a white camellia for mannas responded Christopher jocularly so the servants saw what the father did not I think he hardly even knew that Asta was growing taller one evening in the spring Asta was as usual making tea for her father as usual also the tea time was very silent the colonel sometimes carried on his reading alongside of his teacup at other times perhaps he pondered what he had been reading Papa said Asta suddenly would it be any harm if I wrote a letter to Pitt the colonel did not answer at once do you want to write to him yes Papa I would like it I would like to write once what do you want to write to him for I would like to tell him something that I think it would please him to hear what is that it is just something about myself Papa Asta said a little hesitatingly you may write and I will enclose it in a letter of mine Papa a day or two passed and then Asta brought her letter it was closed and sealed the colonel took it and turned it over there's a good deal of it he remarked was it needful to use so many words Papa said Asta hesitating I didn't think about how many words I was using you should have had thinner paper why did you seal it up Papa I didn't think about that either I only thought it had got to be sealed you did not wish to hinder my seeing what you had written no Papa said Asta a little slowly that will do and he laid the letter on one side and Asta supposed the matter was disposed of but when she had kissed him and gone off to bed the colonel brought the letter before him again looked at it and finally broke the seal and opened it there was a good deal of it as he had remarked Seaforth May 11 1815 my dear Pit Papa has given me leave to write a letter to you and I wanted to write because I have something to tell you that I think you will be glad to hear I'm afraid I cannot tell it very well for I'm not much accustomed to writing letters but I will do as well as I can I'm afraid it will take me some time to say what I want to say I cannot put it in two or three sentences you must have patience with me do you remember my telling you once that I wanted comfort and do you remember my asking you once about the meaning of some words in the Bible where I was looking for comfort because Mama said it was the best place we were sitting in the veranda one afternoon you had been away to New Haven and were home for vacation well I partly forgot about it that summer I was so happy you know what a good time we had with everything and I forgot about wanting comfort but after you went away that autumn to Lisbon and then to England then the want came back you were very good about writing and I enjoyed your letters very much and yet somehow everyone seemed to make me feel a little worse than I did before that is after the first bit you know for an hour perhaps while I was reading it and reading it the second time and thinking about it I was almost perfectly happy the letters seemed to bring you near but when just that first hour was passed they made you seem farther off than ever farther off every time and then the want of comfort came back and I did not know where to get it there was nobody to ask and no help at all if I could not find it in the Bible all that winter and all the summer last summer that was and all the first part of this winter I did not know what to do I wanted comfort so I thought maybe you would never come back to see forth again and you know there is nobody else here and I was quite alone I never do see anybody but Papa except Mr. and Mrs. Dallas who come here once in a while so I went to the Bible I read and I thought do you remember those words I once asked you about perhaps you do not so I will write them down here the Lord make his face shine upon thee and be gracious to thee the Lord lift up his countenance upon thee and give thee peace those are the words do you remember what you said at that time about the pleasure of seeing a face that looks brightly and kindly upon one only you did not know how that could be true of God because we cannot really see his face well I thought a great deal about that you see there are the words and so I thought the thing must be possible somehow and there must be some way in which they can be true or the Bible would not say so I began to pray that the Lord would make his face shine upon me then I remembered another thing it is only the faces we love that we care about seeing I mean that we care about so very much and it is only the faces that love us that can shine upon us but I did not love God for I did not know him and I knew he could not love me for he knew me too well so I began to pray a different prayer I asked that God would teach me to love him and make me such a person that he could love me it was all very dark and confused before my mind I think I was like a person groping about and feeling for things he cannot see it was very miserable for I had no comfort at all and the days and the nights were all bad and dark only I kept a little bit of hope then I must tell you another thing I had been doing nothing but praying and reading the Bible but one day I came to these words which struck me very much there in the 14th chapter of John he that hath my commandments and keepeth them he it is that loveth me and he that loveth me shall be loved together and I will love him and will manifest myself to him do you notice those last words that is like making the face shine or lifting up the countenance upon a person but then I saw that to get that which I wanted I must keep his commandments I hardly knew what they were and I began to read to find out I had only been looking for comfort before and as fast as I found out one of his commandments I began to do it as far as I could pit his commandments are such beautiful things and then I don't know how it came or when it came exactly but I began to see his face and it began to shine upon me and the darkness began to go away and now pit this is what I wanted to tell you I have found comfort I love him not dark and I don't feel alone anymore the promise is all true I think he has manifested himself to me for I'm sure I know him a little and I love him a great deal and everything seems changed it is so changed pit I am happy now and contented and things seem beautiful to me again as they used to do when you were here before I think I thought you would be glad to know it and so I've written all this long letter and my fingers are really tired your loving friend Esther Gainsborough the Colonel read this somewhat peculiar document with wondering attention he got to the end and began again with his mind in a great deal of confusion a second reading left him more confused than the first and he began the third time what did Esther mean by this want of comfort how could she want comfort and what was the strange thing that she had found and how came she to be pouring out her mind in this fashion to pit to him of all people the Colonel was half touched half jealous half odd what had his child learned in her strange solitary Bible study he had heard of religious ecstasies and religious enthusiasts devotees people set apart by a singular experience was his Esther possibly going to be anything like that he did not wish it he wanted her certainly to be a good woman and a religious woman he did not want her to be extravagant and this sounded extravagant even visionary how had she got it what had Pitt Dallas to do with it was it for want of him that Esther had set up such a cry for comfort the Colonel liked nothing of all the questions that started up in his mind and the only satisfactory thing was that in some way Esther seemed to be feeling happy but her father did not want her to be given over to a visionary happiness which in the end would desert her he sat up a long time reading and brooding over the letter finally he closed it and sealed it again and resolved to let it go off and to have a talk with his daughter end of chapter 15 recording by Hannah Mary chapter 16 of A Red Wallflower this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Nancy Cochran-Gerkin Gilbert Arizona A Red Wallflower chapter 16 rest and unrest it cost the Colonel a strange amount of trouble to get to that talk for an old soldier and man of the world to ask a little innocent girl about her meaning of words she had written would seem a simple matter enough but there was something about it that tied the Colonel's tongue he could not bring himself to broach the subject of breakfast with a clear homely daylight streaming upon the breakfast table and Esther moving about and attending through her usual morning duties all he could do was to watch her furtively this creature was growing about of his knowledge he looked to see what outward signs of change might be visible he saw a fair, sun girl no longer a little girl certainly with a face that still was his child's face he thought and yet as he looked he slowly came to the conviction that it was the face of something more than a child the old simplicity and the old purity were there indeed but now there was a blessed calm upon the brow and the calmness had a certain lofty quality and the sweetness which was more than ever was refined and deep it was not the sweetness of Larry's childhood but something that had a more distant source than childhood draws from the Colonel ate his breakfast without knowing what he was eating however he could not talk to Esther at that time he waited till evening had come round again and the lamp was lit and he was taking his toast and tea with Esther ministering to him in her wanted course how old are you Esther? he began suddenly near fifteen papa fifteen why papa had you forgotten at the moment then he began again I sent your letter off thank you papa it was sealed up why did you seal it did you mean me not to read it Esther's eyes opened I never thought about it papa I didn't know you would care to read it I thought it must be sealed and I sealed it I did care to read it so I opened it had you any objection no papa said Esther wondering and having opened it I read it I did not quite understand it Esther Esther made no reply what do you want comfort so much for my child while you are happy as happy as other children I am happy now papa more happy than other children but you were not no papa for a while I was not why what did you want that you had not except your mother the colonel added with a sigh of consciousness that there might be a missing something there I was not thinking of her papa Esther said slowly of what then the colonel was intensely curious I was very happy as long as Pitt was at home William Dallas but what is he to you he's a collision and you are a little girl papa the collision was very kind to the little girl Esther said with a smile that was very bright and also merry with a certain sense of humor I grant it still it is unreasonable and was it because he was gone that you wanted comfort I didn't want it or I didn't know that I wanted it while he was here people they don't know they need comfort do not need it I fancy you draw fine distinctions well go on Esther you have found it your letter says oh yes papa my dear I do not understand you and I should like to understand can you tell me what you mean as he raised his eyes to her he saw a look come over her face that he could as little comprehend her letter a look of surprise at him mingled with a sudden shine of some inner light she was moving about the tea table she came round and stood in front of her father full in view papa I thought my letter explained it I mean that now I have come to know the Lord Jesus now my dear I was under the impression that you had been taught and had known the truce of the gospel all your life oh yes papa so I was the difference well the difference papa is that now I know him him whom I mean Jesus papa how do you know him do you mean that lately you have begun to think about him no papa I have been thinking a great while and now now I have come to know him that Esther knew what she meant was evident it was equally plain that the colonel did not he was puzzled and did not like to show it too fully the one face was shining with clearness and gladness the other was dissatisfied and perplexed my dear I do not understand you the colonel said after a pause have you been reading mystical books I did not know there were any in the house I have been reading the Bible papa and that is not mystical your language sounds so why no papa I do not mean anything mystical will you explain yourself Esther paused thinking how she should do this when one has used the simplest words in one's vocabulary and is called upon to expound them by the use of others less simple the task is somewhat critical the colonel watched with a sort of disturbed pleasure the thoughtful clear brow the gray eyes which had become so sweet the intelligence at work there he saw was no longer that of a child the sweetness was no longer the blank of unconscious ignorance but the wisdom of some blessed knowledge what did she know that was hidden from his experience papa it is very difficult to tell you Esther began I used to know about the things in the Bible and I had learned the whole chapters by heart but that was all I did not know much more than the name of Christ and his history of course and his words what more could you know inquired the colonel in increasing astonishment that's just it papa I did not know himself you know what you mean when you say you don't know somebody I mean just that but Esther that sounds to me very like very like an improper use of language tamering how can you know him as you speak I can't tell you papa I think he showed himself to me showed himself do you mean in a vision oh no papa said Esther smiling I have not seen his face not literally but he has somehow showed me how good he is and how glorious and has made me understand how he loves me with me so that I do not feel alone anymore I don't think I ever shall feel alone again was this extravagance the colonel pondered it seemed to him a thing to be rebuked or repressed he knew nothing at this time in his own religious experience he feared it was visionary invincible but when he looked at Esther's face the words died on his tongue which he would have spoken so grave in their happiness that they forbade the charge of folly or fancifulness nay they were looking at something which the colonel wished he could himself see if the sight brought such contentment they stopped his mouth he could not say what he thought to say and his own eyes oddly fell before them what does William Dallas know about all this he asked nothing papa I don't think he knows it at all why did you write about it to him then I was sure he would be glad for me papa once a good while ago I asked Pitt what could be the meaning of a verse in the bible that beautiful verse in numbers and he could not tell me though what he said gave me a great help so I knew he would remember and he would be glad and I want him to know Jesus too the colonel felt a little twinge of jealousy here Esther did not know, he reflected that her own father was an equal destitution of that knowledge or was it all visionary that she had been saying in his view of religion the right one after all it must be the right one yet his religion had never given his face the expression that's shown in Esther's now it almost hurt him and now you have comfort he said after a moment's pause yes papa more than comfort because you think that God looks upon you with favor because I love him papa I know him and I love him and I know he loves me and will do everything for me how do you know it Esther colonel almost harshly that sounds to me rather presuming you may hope it but how can you know it he has made me know it papa and he said it in the bible I just believe what he says Colonel Gainsborough gave up the argument before Esther's face of quiet confidence he felt himself baffled if she were wrong he could not prove her wrong uneasy and worsted he gave up the discussion but thought he would not have any more letters go to William Dallas and as the days went on he watched furtively his daughter he had not been mistaken in his observations that evening a steadfastness of sweet happiness was about her beautifying and elevating what she did and all she was fair quiet on the brow loving gladness on the lips and hands of ready ministry she had always been a dutiful child faithful in her ministering but now the service was not of duty but of love and gracious accordingly as the service of duty can never be the colonel watched and saw something of the difference without being able however to combat a satisfactory understanding of it and saw how under this influence of love and gladness his child was becoming the rarest of servants to him and more still how under it she was developing into a most exquisite personal beauty he watched her as if by watching he might catch something of the secret mental charm by virtue of which these changes were wrought but the secret of the Lord is with them that fear him and it cannot be communicated from one to another and its letters after he got to work at Oxford became much fewer and scantier it was only at very rare intervals that one came to Colonel Gainsborough and Esther made no proposition of writing to England again on that subject the colonel seized to take any thought it was otherwise with Pitt's family Mrs. Della sat one evening pondering over the last letter received from her son it was early autumn a low fire burning in the chimney with which the master of the house stretched out his legs lying very much at his ease in an old fashioned chess lounge and turning over into his newspaper this attitude bespoke the comfortable ease and carelessness of his mind on which certainly nothing lay heavy his wife was in all things of contrast her handsome stately figure was yielding at the moment to no blendishments of comfort or luxury she sat upright with Pitt's letter in her hand and on her brow there was an expression of troubled consideration husband she said at length do you notice how Pitt speaks of the colonel and his daughter no, came slowly and indifferently from the lips of Mr. Della's as he turned the pages of his newspaper don't you notice how he asks after them in every letter and wants me to go and see them naturally enough Pitt is thinking of home and he thinks of them part of the picture that boy don't forget give him time suggested Mr. Dallas with a careless yarn he has had some time a year and a half and in Europe and distractions enough but don't you know Pitt he sticks to a thing even closer than you do if he cares enough about it that's what troubles me held the brand I am afraid he does care if he comes home next summer and finds that girl do you know how she is growing up that is the worst of children said Mr. Dallas in the same lazy way they will grow up by next summer she will be well I don't know how old but quite old enough to take the fancy of a boy like Pitt I know Pitt's age he will be 22 old enough to know better he isn't such a fool such a fool as what as Mrs. Dallas sharply that girl is going to be handsome enough to be a man's fancy and hold it too she is uncommonly striking don't you see it yes I see it Hildebrand I do not want him to marry the daughter of a dissenting colonel with not enough money to dress her I do not mean he shall then think how you are going to prevent it next summer I warn you it may be too late in consequence of his facial expression though it is by no means certain that Mr. Dallas needed his suggestions he strolled over after tea to Colonel Gainsborough's the colonel was in his usual and position Esther sitting at the table with her books Mr. Dallas eyepur as she rose to receive him notice the gracious quiet manner the fair and noble face the easy movement and fine bearing He had to wait a while. He told the news of Pitt's last letter, intimated that he meant to keep him in England till his studies were all ended, and then went into a discussion of politics, deep and dry. When Astrid last left the room, he made a sudden break in the discussion. Colonel, what are you going to do with that girl of yours? What am I going to do with her? Repeated the Colonel a little dryly. Yes, forgive me, I have known her all her life, you know, nearly. I am concerned about Esther. In what way? Well, don't take a deal of me, but I do not like to see her growing up so without any advantages. She is such a beautiful creature. Colonel Gainsborough was silent. I take the interest of a friend, Mr. Dallas went on. I have a right to so much. I have watched her grow up. She will be something uncommon, you know. She ought really to have everything that can help to make humanity perfect. What would you have me do, the Colonel asked, half conscious and half impatient. I would give her all the advantages that a girl of her birth and breeding would have in the old country. How is that possible at Seaforth? It is not possible at Seaforth. There is nothing here, but elsewhere it is possible. I shall never leave Seaforth, said the Colonel doggedly. But for Esther's sake, why, she ought to be at school now, Colonel. I shall never quit Seaforth, the other repeated. I do not expect to live long anywhere. When I die, I will lie by my wife's side here. You are not failing in health, Mr. Dallas persisted. You are an improving Colonel. Every time I come to see you, I am convinced of it. We shall have you a long while among us yet. You may depend on it. I have no particular reason to wish you may be right, and I see myself no signs that you are. You have your daughter to live for. She will be taken care of. I have little fear. There was a somewhat grim set of Mr. Dallas's mouth in answer to this speech. His words, however, were smoother than butter. You need have no fear, he said. Ms. Gainsborough, with her birth and beauty and breeding, will do what you must wish her to do. Marry someone well able to take care of her. But you are not doing her justice, Colonel, and not giving her the education that should go with her birth and breeding. I speak as a friend. I trust you will not take it ill of me. I cannot send her to England. You do not need. There are excellent institutions of learning in this country now. I do not know where. My wife can tell you. She has some knowledge of such things. Through friends who have daughters at school, she could tell you of several good schools for girls. Where are they? I believe in or near New York. I do not wish to leave Seaforth, said the Colonel, gloomily. And I am sure we did not wish to have you leave it, said the other, rising. It would be a terrible loss to us. Perhaps, after all, I have been officious, and you are giving Esther an education more than equal to what she could get at school. I cannot quit Seaforth, the Colonel repeated. All that I care for in the world lies here. When I have done with the world, I wish to lie here too. Well then, I will wait. Mr. Dallas took his leave, and the set of his mouth was grim again as he walked home. End of Chapter 16, Recording by Nessie Cochran-Gergen, Gilbert, Arizona Chapter number 17 of A Red Wall Flower This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Shashank Jagmola, A Red Wall Flower by Susan Warner, Moving Mr. Dallas' visits became frequent, and he talked of a great variety of things but never failed to bring the Colonel's mind to the subject of Esther's want of education. Indirectly or directly somehow, he presented to the Colonel's mind that one idea, that his daughter was going without the advantages she needed and not to have. It was true, and the Colonel could not easily dispose of the thought which his friends who persistently held up before him. Water wears away stone, as we know to a proverb, and so it befell in this case, and Mr. Dallas knew it must. The Colonel began to grow uneasy. He often reasserted that he would never leave Seaforth. He began to think about it, nevertheless. What should I do with this place? He asked one evening when the subject was up. What do you wish to do with it? I wish to live in it as long as I live anywhere, said the Colonel, sighing. But you say, and perhaps you are right, that I ought to be somewhere else for my child's sake. In that case, what could I do with my place here? I ask again, what do you wish to do with it? Would you let it? No, said the Colonel, sighing again, if I go, I must sell. My means will not allow me to do otherwise. I will buy it off you, if you wish to sell. You, what would you do with the property? Keep it for you, against a time when you may wish to buy it back. But indeed it would come very conveniently for me. I should like to have it for my own purposes. I will give you its utmost value. The Colonel pondered, not glad, perhaps, to have difficulties cleared out of his way. Mr. Dal was waited, too keen to press his point unduly. I should have to go and reconnoitour. The former said presently, I must not give up one home till I have another ready. I never thought to leave seaforth. Where do you say this place is that Mrs. Dallas recommends? In New York. The school is said to be particularly good and thorough, and conducted by an English lady, which would be a recommendation to me, as I suppose it is to you. I should have to find a house in the neighborhood, said the Colonel, musing. Mr. Dallas said no more, and waited. I must go and see what I can find, the Colonel repeated. Perhaps Mrs. Dallas will be so good as to give me the address of the school in question. Mrs. Dallas did more than that. She gave letters to friends in addresses of more than one school teacher, and the end was, Colonel Gansboro set off on a search. The search was successful. He was satisfied with the testimonials he received respecting one of the institutions, and respecting its head, he was directed by some of Mrs. Dallas's business friends to various houses that might suit him for a residence, and among them made his choice, and even made his bargain, and came home with the business settled. Esther had spent the days of his absence in a very doubtful mood, not knowing whether to be glad or sorry, to hope or to fear. Seaforth was the only home she had ever known. She did not like the thought of leaving it, but she knew by this time as well as Mr. Dallas knew that she needed more advantages of education than Seaforth could give her on the whole she hoped. The Colonel was absent several days. There was no telegraphing in those times, and so the day of his return could not be notified. But when a week had passed, Esther began to look for him. It was the first time he had been away from her, and so, of course, it was the first coming home. Esther felt it deserved some sort of celebration. The stage arrived towards evening, she knew. I think maybe he will be here tonight, Barker, she said. What is there we could have for supper that Papa likes particularly? Indeed, Miss Esther, the Colonel favours nothing more than another, as I know. His toast and tea, that is all he cares for nights, mostly. Toasts and tea, said Esther, disparagingly. As the most he cares for, as I know, the housekeeper repeated. There is them quails Mr. Dallas sent over. They is nice and fat, and to be sure quails had ought to be eaten immediate. I can roast two or three of them, if you're placed to order it. But the Colonel, it's my opinion, he won't care what you have. The gentleman learns it so in the army, I'm thinking. The Colonel never did give himself no care about what he had for dinner, nor for no other time. Esther knew that. However, she ordered the quails, and watched eagerly for her father. He came to that same evening, but the quails hardly got their desserts, nor asked her neither for that matter. The Colonel seemed to be unregardful of the one as much as of the other. He gave his child a sufficiently kind greeting, indeed, when he first came in. But then he took his usual seat on the sofa, without his usual book, and sat as if lost in thought. Tea was served immediately, and I suppose the Colonel had had a thin dinner, for he consumed a quail and a half. Yet, satisfactory as this was in itself, Esther could not see that her father knew what he was eating. And after tea, he still neglected his book, and sat brooding, with his head leaning on his hand. He had not said one word to his daughter concerning the success or non-success of his mission, and eager as she was, it was not in accordance with the way she had been brought up that she should question him. She asked him nothing further than about his own health and condition, and the length and character of his journey, which questions were shortly disposed of, and then the Colonel sat there, with his head in his hand, doing nothing that he was wont to do. Esther feared something was troubling him, and could not bear to leave him to himself. She came near softly, and very softly let her fingertips touch her father's brow in temples, and stroked back the hair from them. She ventured no more. Perhaps Colonel Gaines Borough could not bear so much. Perhaps he was reminded of the only other fingers which had had a right sense of boyhood to touch him so. Yet he would not repeal the gentle hand, and to avoid doing that, he did another very uncommon thing. He drew Esther down into his arms, and put her on his knee, leaning his head against her shoulder. It was exceeding pleasant to the girl, as a touch of sympathy and confidence. However, for that night, the confidence went no further. The Colonel said nothing at all. He was in truth overcome with the sadness of leaving his home, and his habits, and the place of his wife's grave. As he re-entered Seaforth, and entered his house, this sadness had come over him. He could not shake it off. Indeed, he did not try. He gave himself up to it, and forgot Esther, or rather forgot what he owned her. And Esther, who had done what she could, sat still on her father's knee till she was weary, and wished he would release her. Yet perhaps she thought it was a pleasure to him to have her there, and she would not move or speak. So, they remained until it was past Esther's bedtime. I think I will go now, Papa, she said. It is getting late. He kissed her, and let her go. But the next morning the Colonel was himself again, himself as he had never been away. Only he had his news to tell, and he told it in orderly business fashion. I have a house, Esther, he said, and now I wish to get moved as soon as possible. He must tell Barker and help her. Certainly, Papa, whereabouts is the house you have taken? On York Island. It is about a mile out of the city, on the bank of the river, a very pretty situation. Which river, Papa? The Hudson. And am I to go to school? Of course, that is the purpose of the movement. You are to enter Miss Fairburn School in New York. It is the best there, by all I can gather. Thank you, Papa. Then it is not near our new house. No, you will have to drive there and back. I have made arrangements for that. Won't that cost a good deal, Papa? Not so much as to live in the city would cost. And we are accustomed to the country. It will be pleasenture. Oh, much pleasenture. What will be done with this house, Papa? Mr. Dallas takes it, and the place off my hands. Esther did not like that. Why, she could not possibly have told, for, to be sure, what could be better. Will he buy it? Yes, he buys it. Again, a little pause. Then, what will become of the furniture and everything, Papa? That must be packed to go. The house I have taken is empty. We shall want all we have got. Esther's eye went around the room. Everything to be packed. She stood like a young general, surveying her battlefield. Then, Papa, you never mean to come back to Seaforth again. The colonel signed. Yes, when I die, Esther, I wished my bones to be laid here. He said no more. Having made his communications, he took up his book. His manner evidently saying to Esther, that in what came next he had no particular share. But could it be that he was leaving it all to her inexperience? Was it to be her work and depend on her wisdom? Papa, you said we were to move soon. Do you wish me to arrange with Barker about it? Yes, my dear. Yes. Tell her and arrange with her. I wish to make the change as early as possible before the weather becomes unfavorable, and I wish you to get to school immediately. It cannot be too soon. Tell Barker. So, he was going to leave it all to her. On ordinary occasions, he was warned to consider Esther a child still. Now it was convenient to suppose her a woman. He did not put it so to himself. It is some men's way. Esther went slowly to the kitchen and informed Barker of what was before her. And it's the morning, the middle of October, was the housekeeper's command. That's very good time, said Esther. You're right, Miss Esther, and so it is. If Thieve is already this minute, all ain't done when you are moved, Miss Esther. There's the other house to settle, and it'll take a good bit of work before we get so far as to that. Papa wants us to be as quick as we can. We'll be as quick as two pair of hands is able for, I'll warrant. But that ain't as if Thieve was a dozen. There's every individual thing to put up, Miss Esther, from our chairs to our bed and books in China, and I'll go to at the China, first of all, and today. And what can I do, Barker? I don't know, Miss Esther. You ain't no experience and experience as some. You can buy in the shop, even if there was any shop here to speak of, but Christopher and me will manage it, I'll warrant. The call is quite right. This ain't no place for you no longer. We'll see and get moved as quick as we can, Miss Esther. Without experience, however, it was found that Esther's share of the next weeks of work was a very important one. She packed up the clothes and the books, and she did it real uncommon, the housekeeper said. But that was the least part. She kept her father comfortable, letting none of the confusion and as little as possible of the dust come into the room where he was. She stood in the gap where Barker was in the thick of some job and herself prepared her father's soup or got his tea. Thoughtful, quiet, diligent, her head, young as it was, proved often a very useful help to Barker's experience and something about her smooth composure was a stay to the tired nerves of her subordinates. Though Christopher Bounder really had no nerves, yet he felt the influence I speak of. Ain't her miss Esther grow to be a stunner though? He remarked more than once. I'm sure I don't rightly know what you mean, Christopher? His sister answered. Well, I tell you she is an uncommon handsome young lady, Sarah, and she has a real way with her, the real thing she has. What do you mean by that? I'll wager a cucumber, you can tell, said Christopher, shutting up his eyes smiley. There ain't no flesh and blood around in these parts like that, no more in a cabbaging like a chameleon, and I don't tell it. She's that dainty and sweet as a chameleon ever was, not as I ever see, and she has that fine, soft way with her, that is like the touch of a feather, yet ain't soft neither if you come to go egging it. I tell you what, Sarah, that shows blood, that does. Concluded Christopher with a competent ear. Our young lady, she's the real thing. You and me now, we can be like that if he was to die for it. That's blood, that is. I don't know, said the housekeeper. She's sweet, uncommon, and she is gentle enough, and she has a will of her own, too. But I don't know, she didn't use for to be just so. "'Cause she is growing up two years,' said the gardener. La Salle, folks is like vegetables, uncommon. You must let them drop their rough leaves, before you can see what they're going to be. There are never no rough leaves, no rough anything about Miss Esther. I can't say as I know what you mean, Christopher. A woman needing to know everything, responded her brother with superiority, and a natural wall to make sure, ain't your department, Sarah, you're good for a great deal where you be. End of chapter number 17. Chapter number 18 of A Red Wall Flower This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Shashank Jakhmola. A Red Wall Flower by Susan Warner. A Neighbor. The packing and sending off of boxes was ended at last, and the bare, empty, echoing forlorn house seemed of itself to eject its inhabitants. When it came to that, everybody was ready to go. Mrs. Barker lamented that she should not go on before the rest of the family, to prepare the place a bit for them, but that was impossible. They must all go together. It was the middle of November when at last the family made their flitting. They had no dear friends to leave, in nothing particular to regret, except that one low mound in the churchyard. Yet Esther fell sober as they drove away. The only tangible reason for this on which her thoughts could fix was the fact that she was going away from the place where Pitt Dallas was at home, and to which he would come when he returned from England. She would then be afar off, yet there would be nothing to hinder his coming to see them in their new home, so the feeling did not seem well justified. Besides that, Esther also had a somewhat vague sense that she was leaving the domain of childhood and entering upon the work and sphere of a woman. She was just going to school, but perhaps the time of confusion she had been passing through might have revealed to her that she had already a woman's life work on her hands. And the confusion was not over, and the work only begun. She had perhaps a dim sense of this. However, she was young, and the soberness was certainly mixed with gladness. For was she not going to school and so on the way to do something of the work Pitt was doing in mental furnishing and improvement? I think gladness had the upper hand. It took two days of stage travelling to get them to their destination. They were days full of interest and novelty for Esther. Eager anticipation and hope, but the end of the second day found her well tired. Indeed, it was the case with them all. Mrs. Barker had lamented that she and Christopher were not allowed to go off some time before the family so as to have things in a certain degree of readiness for them. The colonel had said it was impossible. They could not be spared from seaforth until the last minute, and now here they were all in a heap, as Mrs. Barker expressed it, to be tumbled into the house at once. She begged that the colonel would stay the night over in the city and give her at least a few hours to prepare for him. The colonel would not hear of it however, but at once procured vehicles to take the whole party and their boxes out to the place that was to be their new home. It was then, already evening, the short November day had closed in. He's that simple. Mrs. Barker confided to her brother. He expects to find a firemaid and a room ready for him. It's like all the gentlemen. They never take no, thanks the furniture will hop out of the boxes like, kind of how things is done if it ain't their things and stand around. Echoed Christopher. I'm afraid they won't be so obliging. The drive was somewhat slower in the dog than it would have been otherwise, and the stars were out and looking down brilliantly upon the little party as they finally dismounted at their door. The shadow of the house rising before them, a cool air from the river, the sparkling stars above, the wake darkness around. Esther never forgot that homecoming. They had stopped at a neighbour's house to get the key and now the front door being unlocked made their way in, one after another. Esther was confronted first by a great packing case in the narrow hall which blocked up the way. Going carefully round this, which there was just room to do, she stumbled over a smaller box on the floor. Oh Papa, take care. She cried to her father who was following her. The house is all full of things and it is so dark. Oh Parker, can't you open the back door and let in a gleam of light? This was done and also in due time a lantern was brought upon the scene. It revealed a state of things almost as hopeless as the world appeared to know us dove the first time she was sent out of the ark. If there was rest for the souls of their feet, it was all that could be said. There was no promise of a place to sit down and as for lying down and getting their natural rest, the idea was utopian. Now luck her. Said a voice suddenly out of the darkness outside. You're all fagged out, ain't you? And there are nothing on earth you can do tonight. There's no use of your trying. Just come over to my house and have some supper. You must want it bad. Been traveling all day, ain't you? Just come over to me. I've got some hot supper for you. Lance sakes. You can't do nothing here tonight. It is a kind of a turn up, ain't it? La, a movin's a worse than a wedding for puttin' everybody out. The voice sounding at first from the outside had been gradually drawing nearer and nearer till with the last words the speaker also entered the back room where Esther and her father were standing. They were standing in the midst of packing cases of every size and shape between which the shadows lay dark while the faint lantern light just served to show the rough edges and angles of the boxes and the hopeless conditions of things generally. It served also now to let the newcomer be dimly seen. Esther and her father looking towards the door perceived a stout little figure with her two hands rolled up in her shawl head bare and with hair in neat order footage glanced in the lantern shine as only smooth things can. The feature of the face were not discernible. Esther Cunnell himself fainted, she said. This said he was a tall man and I see this a tall one. Is it the Cunnell himself? I couldn't somehow make out the name and I reckon I can't see nothin' as light is. Aren't your service, madam? said the person addressed. Colonel Gainsboro The visitor dropped a little daughter for courtesy which seemed to Esther inexpressibly funny and went on. Beg pardon for not knowing. Well, Cunnell, I'm sure you're tired and hungry. You're on your daughter, is it? I've got a hot supper for you over to my house. I always think there is nothing like having things hot. Cold comfort ain't no comfort for me. And I've got everything hot for you hot and nice. And now will you come over and eat it? You see, you can't do nothin' here tonight. I don't see how ever you're to sleep in this world. There ain't nothin' here but floors in the boxes and if you'll take best with me, I'm sure you're welcome. I thank you, madam. You're very kind. But I do not think we need trouble you. The colonel said, with civil formality. Esther was amused but also a little eager that her father should accept the invitation. What else would become of him, she thought. The prospect was desolation. Truly they had some cooked provisions but that was only cold comfort, as the visitor had said. Doubtful if the term could be applied at all. Now you just best come right over, the fluent but kind voice said persuasively. It's all spilling till we eat? And what can you do? There ain't no fire here to warm you and it'll take a bit of a while before you can get one. And you're all tired out. Just come over and have a cup of hot coffee and get hardened up a bit. And then you'll know what to do next. I always think one thing at a time. Papa said Esther a little timidly. Hadn't you better do it. There's nothing but confusion here. It will be a long time before we can get you even a cup of tea. It's all ready. The visitors went on, ready and spilling. And I got it for you on purpose. Now don't stand thinking about it but just come right over. I'll be as glad to have you as if you was new apples. How far is it, ma'am? Esther asked. Just two steps down the other side of the field at the very next house to yarn. Oh, I lived there a matter of ten years and I was main glad to hear there was somebody coming in here again. It's so sort of lonesome to see the winder allows shut up and your light looks real cheery. If it is only a lantern light, I know when you was a coming and says I, they'll be real tired out when they get here, says I. And I'll have a hot supper ready for them and it's all I can do. But I'm sure if you'll sleep, you're welcome. If you please, sir, put in Mrs. Barker. It would be the most advised thing you could do. But there ain't no prospect here and if you and Mrs. Esther was away for a bit, maybe me and Christopher would come to see daylight after a while, which it is what I don't do at present. The good woman's voice sounded so thoroughly perturbed and expressed such an undoubted earnest desire that the colonel, contrary to all his traditions, gave in. He and Esther followed their new friend, crossed the field, as she said, but they hardly knew where, till the light and warmth of her hospitable house received them. How strange it was, the short walk in the starlight, then the homely hospitable room, with its spread table, the pumpkin pie, and the sausage, and the pickles, and the cheese, and the cake. The very coarse tablecloth, the little two pronged forks, and knives, which might have been cut out of sheet iron, and singular wear, which did service for China. The extreme homeliness of it all would almost have hindered Esther from eating, though she was very hungry. But there was good bread and butter, and coffee that was hot, and not bad otherwise, although assuredly it never saw the land of Arabia. Suddenly it seemed very good to Esther that night, even taken from a pewter spoon. And the tablecloth was clean, and everything upon it. So, with doubtful hesitation at first, Esther found the supper good, and learned her first lesson in the broadness of humanity, and the wide variety in ways of human life. Their hostess, seen by the light of her dip candles, was in perfect harmony with their entertainment. A round little woman, very neat, and terribly plain, with a full oval face, which had no other characteristics of beauty, in significant features, and a pale skin covered with freckles. Out of this face, however, looked a pair of small, shrewd, and kind gray eyes. Their owner could be no fool. Esther was surprised to see that her father, who was, to be sure, an old campaner, made a very fair supper. In the darkness I could hardly say where we went. He remarked, But I suppose your husband is the owner of the neat gardens I observed formally near our house. Well, he would be if he was alive, was the answer. But that's what he ain't been this five years. Then how do you manage them? Well, Colonel, I manage him better than he did. Mr. Blumenfeld was an easy kind of man, easy to live with, too. But when you have other folks to see to, it don't do no ways to let them have their own heads too much. And that's what he did. He was a first-rate gardener, and no mistake, he knew his business. But the thing he didn't know was folks, so they cheated him. Well, folks ain't like flowers, not exactly, or if they be, as he used to say, there's tongs among them now, and then a weed or two. Blumenfeld repeated the colonel. You are not German, surely? Well, I guess I ain't, said the little woman. Not if I know myself. I ain't saying nothing again what he was, but there's different natures in the world, and I'm different. Folks do say his folks is great for getting along, but he weren't. That's all I have to say. He learned me the garden work though, not much he did. And how do you manage the business? At his cell. Why don't you have another Cap Cano? They went back to their disordered house, resisting all for their offers of hospitality. And in time, beds were got out and prepared. How? As they could hardly remember afterwards, the confusion was so great, but it was done, and she lost every other feeling in the joy of repose. End of Chapter 18