 CHAPTER 46 A VISIT Pitt sailed for America in the early days of autumn, and September had not yet run out when he arrived in New York. His first researches, as on former occasions, amounted to nothing and several days passed with no fruit of his trouble. The intelligence received at the post office gave him no more than he had been assured of already. They believed the letter did come occasionally to a certain Kernel Gainsboro, but the occasions were not often. The letters were not called for regularly, and the address, further than that it was New York, was not known. It was drawn upon his own resources, which narrowed down pretty much to observation and conjecture. To exercise the former, he perambulated the streets of the city. His brain was busy with the letter constantly, whenever its energies were not devoted to seeing and hearing. He wrote the streets in fair weather and foul, and at all hours. He watched keenly all the figures he passed, at least until assured they had no interest for him. He peered into shops, he reviewed ecobashes. In those days it was possible to do this to some purpose, if a man were looking for somebody. The streets were not as now filled with a confused and confusing crowd, growing always at once, and no policeman was needed, even for the most timid, to cross Broadway where it was busiest. What a chance there was then for the gay part of the world to show itself. A lady would even sight, like a ship in the distance, and come bearing down with colors flying, one all alone, or two together, having the whole sidewalk for themselves. Slowly they would come and pass, in the full leisure of display, and disappear, giving place to a new sale just rising to view. No such freedom of display and monopoly of admiration is anywhere possible any longer in the city of Gotham. David had been walking the streets for days, and was weary of watching the various feminine craft which sailed up and down in them. None of them were like the one he was looking for, neither could he see anything that looked like the Colonel Strait's slim figure and soldierly bearing. He was weary, but he persevered. A man in his position was not open to the charge of looking for a needle in a haystack, such as would now be justly brought to him. York was not quite so large then as it is now. It is astonishing to think what a little place it was in those days, when Walker Street was not yet built on its north side, and there was a pond at the corner of Canal Street, and Chelsea was in the country, when the west end was at State Street, and St. George's Church was in Beekman Street, and Beekman Street was a place of fashion. The city was neither so dingy nor so splendid as it is now, and the bright sun of our twilight was pouring all the gold it could upon its roofs and pavements, those September days when Pitt was trying to be everywhere and to see everything. One of those sunny, golden days he was sauntering as usual down Broadway, enjoying the clear ether which was troubled by neither smoke nor cloud. Sauntering along carelessly, yet never for a moment forgetting his aim, when his eye was caught by a figure which came up out of a side street and turned into Broadway just before him. Pitt had but a cursory glance at the face, but it was enough to make him follow the owner of it. He walked behind her at a little distance, scrutinizing the figure. It was not like what he remembered Esther. He had said to himself, of course, that Esther must be grown up before now. Nevertheless, the image in his mind was of Esther as he had known her, a well-grown girl of 13 and 14. This was no such figure. It was of fair medium height, or rather more. The dress was as plain as possible, yet evidently that of a lady, and as unmistakable was the carriage. Perhaps it was that more than anything which fixed Pitt's attention. The erect supple figure, the easy gliding motion, and the set of the head. For among all the multitude that walk, a truly beautiful walk is a very rare thing, and so is a truly fine carriage. Pitt could not take his eyes from this figure. A few swift strides brought him near her, and he followed, watching. Balancing hopes and doubts. That was not Esther as he remembered her, but then years had gone by, and was not that set of the head on the shoulders precisely Esther's? He was meditating how it could get another side of her face, when she suddenly turned and ran up a flight of steps and went in at a door without ever giving him the chance he wanted. She had a little portfolio under her arm, like a teacher, and she paused to speak to the servant who opened the door to her. Pitt judged that it was not her own house. The lady was probably a teacher. Esther could not be a teacher, but at any rate he would wait and get another side of her. If she went in, she would probably come out again. But Pitt had a tiresome waiting of an hour. He strolled up and down, or stood still, leaning against a railing, never losing that door out of his range of vision. The hours seemed three, however, at the end of it the lady did come out again, but just when he was at his farthest, and she turned and went up the street again the way she had come, walking with a quick step. Pitt followed. Where she had turned into Broadway, she turned out of it, and went down an unattractive side street, passing from that into another and another, less and less promising with every corner she turned, till she entered the one which we know was not at all eligible where Colonel Gainsborough lived. Pitt's hopes had been gradually falling, and now when the quarry disappeared from his side in one of the little humble houses which filled the street, he for a moment stood still. Could she be living here? He would have thought she had come merely to visit some poor protégé, but that she had certainly seemed to take a latchkey from her pocket and let herself in with it. Pitt reviewed the place, waited a few minutes, and then went up himself the few steps which led to that door, and knocked. Bell there was none. People who had bells to their doors did not live in that street. But as soon as the door was opened Pitt knew where he was, for he recognized Barker. She was not the one, however, with whom he wished first to exchange recognitions, so he contented himself with asking in an assured manner for Colonel Gainsborough. Yes, sir, he's in, said Barker doubly. As he stood in the doorway she could not see the visitor well. Who will I say wants to see him, sir? A gentleman on business. Another minute or two and Pitt stood in the small room which was the Colonel's particular room, and was face to face with his old friend. The picture was not there, and without looking at anything, Pitt felt in a moment the change that must have come over the fortunes of the family. The place was so small. There did not seem to be room in it for the Colonel and him, but the Colonel was like himself. They stood and faced each other. Have I changed so much, Colonel? He said at last. Do you not know me? William Dallas, said the Colonel. I know the voice, but yes, you have changed. You have changed certainly. It is the difference between the boy and the man. What else it is I cannot see in this light, or this darkness. It grows dark early in this room. Sit down, so you have got back at last. The greeting was not very cordial, Pitt felt. I have come back for a time, but I have been home repeatedly before this. So I suppose, said the Colonel dryly. Of course, hearing nothing of you, I could not be sure how it was. I have looked for you, sir, every time and almost everywhere. Look for us? Ha! It is not very difficult to find anybody when you know where to look. Pardon me, Colonel Gainesboro, that was precisely not my case. I did not know where to look. I have been here for days now, looking till I was almost in despair, only I knew you must be somewhere, and I would not despair. I have looked for you in America and in England. I went down to Gainesboro Manor to see if I could hear tidings of you there. Every time that I came home to Seaforth for a visit, I took a week of my vacation and came here and hunted New York for you, always in vain. The shortest way would have been to ask your father, said the Colonel, still dryly. My father? I asked him, and he could tell me nothing. Why did you not leave us some clue by which to find you? Clue, said the Colonel, what do you mean by clue? I have not hid myself. But if your friends do not know where you are, your father could have told you. He did not know your address, sir. I asked him for it repeatedly. Why did he not give it to you, said the Colonel, throwing up his head like a war horse. He said you had not given it to him. That is true since we came to this place. I have had no intercourse with Mr. Dallas for a long time, not since we moved into our present quarters, and our address here he does not know, I suppose. He ceased writing to me, and of course I ceased writing to him. From you we have never heard at all, since we came to New York. But I wrote, sir, said Pitt, in growing embarrassment and bewilderment. I wrote repeatedly, what do you suppose became of your letters? I cannot say. I wrote letter after letter, till, getting no answer, I was obliged to think it was in vain, and I too stopped writing. Where did you direct your letters? Not to your address here, which I did not know. I enclosed them to my father, supposing he did know it, and begged him to forward them. I never got them, said the colonel, with that same dry accentuation. It implied doubt of somebody, and could Pitt blame him? He kept in mortified silence for a few minutes. He felt terribly put in the wrong and undeservedly, and, but he tried not to think. I am afraid to ask, what you thought of me, sir? Well I confess, I thought it was not just like the old William Dallas that I used to know, or rather, not like the young William. I suppose you had grown old, and with age comes wisdom. That is the natural course of things. You did me injustice, Colonel Gainesboro. I am willing to think it, but it is somewhat difficult. Take my word at least for this. I have never forgotten. I have never neglected. I sought for you as long as possible, and in every way that was possible, whenever I was in this country. I left off writing, but it was because writing seemed useless. I have come now in pursuance of my old promise. Come on the mere chance of finding you, which, however, I was determined to do. Your promise? You surely remember, the promise I made you, that I would come to look for you when I was free, and if I was not so happy as to find you, would take care of Esther. Well, I am here yet, said the Colonel meditatively. I did not expect it, but here I am. You are quit of your promise. I have not desired that, sir. Well, that count is disposed of, and I am glad to see you, but Pitt did not feel the truth of the declaration. Now tell me about yourself. In response to which followed a long account of Pitt's past, present, and future, so far as his worldly affairs and condition were concerned, and so far as his own plans and purposes dealt with both. The Colonel listened, growing more and more interested, thought out a good deal in his manner, yet maintained on the whole an indifferent appartness which was not in accordance with the old times, and the liking he then certainly cherished for his young friend. Pitt could not help the feeling that Colonel Gainsborough wished him away. He began to grow dark, and he must bring his visit to an end. May I see Esther, he asked, after slight pause in the consideration of this fact, and with a change of tone which a mother's ear would have noted, and which perhaps Colonel Gainsborough's was jealous enough to note. The answer had to be waited for a second or two. Not tonight, he said, a little hurriedly. Not tonight. You may see her tomorrow. Pitt could not understand his manner, and went away with half a frown and half a smile upon his face, after saying that he would call in the morning. It had happened all this while that Esther was busy upstairs, and so had not heard the voices, nor even knew that her father had a visitor. She came down soon after his departure to prepare the tea. The lamp was lit, the little fire kindled for the kettle, the table brought up to the Colonel's couch, which, as in old times, he liked to have so, and Esther made his toast and served him with his cups of tea in just the old fashion. But the way her father looked at her was not just in the old fashion. He noticed how tall she had grown. It was no longer the little astro-cforth times. He noticed the lovely lines of her supple figure, as she knelt before the fire with the toasting fork, and raised her other hand to shield her face from the blaze. His eye lingered on her rich hair in its abundant coils, on the delicate hands, but though it went often to the face it as often glanced away and did not dwell there. Yet it could not but come back again, and the Colonel's own face took a grim set as he looked. Oddly enough, he said never a word of the event of the afternoon. You had somebody here, Papa, a little while ago, Barker says. Yes? Who was it? Called himself a gentleman on business. What business, Papa? It is not often that business comes here. It wasn't anything about taxes? No. I've got all that ready, said Esther contendently. So he may come when he likes. The taxman, I mean, what business was this then, Papa? It was something about an old account, my dear, that he wanted to set right. There had been a mistake, it seems. Anything to pay, inquired Esther with a little anxiety? No, it's all right, or so he says. Esther thought it was somewhat odd, but however was willing to let the subject of a settled account go, and she had almost forgotten it when her father broached a very different subject. Would you like to go to live in Seaforth again, Esther? Seaforth, Papa? She repeated, much wondering at the question. No, I think not. I loved Seaforth once, dearly, but we had friends there then, or we thought we had. I do not think it would be pleasant to be there now. Then what do you think of our going back to England? You do not like this way of life, I suppose. In this pitiful place, I have kept you here too long. What had stirred the Colonel up to so much speculation, Esther hesitated. Papa, I know our friends there seem very eager to have us, and so far it would be good. But if we went back, have we enough to live upon and be independent? No. Then I would rather be here. We are doing very nicely, Papa. You are very comfortable, are you not? I am very well placed and earning money, enough money. Really, we are not poor any longer, and it is so nice to be independent. Not poor, said the Colonel, between a groan and a growl. What do you call poor? For you and for me to be in this doleful street is to be all that, I should say. Papa, said Esther, her lips reading into a soil. I think nobody is poor who can live and pay his debts, and we have no debts at all. By dint of hard work on your part and deprivation on mine. Papa, said Esther, the smile fading away. What did he mean by deprivation? I thought, I hoped you were comfortable. Comfortable, groaned and growled the Colonel again. I believe, Esther, you have forgotten what comfort means, or rather, you never knew, or us to be in a prison like this and shut out from the world. Papa, I never thought you cared for the world, and this does not feel like a prison to me. I have been very happy here and free and, oh, so thankful. If you remember how we were before, Papa. All the same, said the Colonel, it is not fitting that those who are meant for the world should live out of it. I wish I had taken you home years ago. You see nobody. You have seen nobody all your life, but one family, and I wish you had never seen them. The Dallases? Oh, why, Papa? You do not care for them, I suppose, now? I do not care for them at all, Papa. I did care for one of them very much, once, but I have given him up long ago. When I found he had forgotten us, it was not worthwhile for me to remember. That is all dead. His father and mother, I doubt if ever they were real friends to you or to me, Papa. I am inclined to think William was not so much to blame. It was his father's fault, perhaps. It does not make much difference, said Esther easily. If anything could make him forsake us, after the old times, he is not worth thinking about, and I do not think of him. That is an ended thing. There was a little something in the tone of the last words which allowed the hearer to divine that the closing of that chapter had not been without pain, and that the pain had perhaps scarcely died out. But he did not pursue the subject, nor say any more about anything. He only watched his daughter, uninterruptedly, though stealthily, watched every line of her figure, glanced at the sweet, fair face, followed every quiet graceful movement. Esther was studying, and part of the time she was trying, absorbed in her work, yet throughout, what most struck her father was the high happiness that sat on her whole person. It was in the supreme calm of her brow. It was in a half-appearing smile which hardly broke, and yet informed the soft lips with the constant sweetness. It seemed to the colonel to appear in her varied positions and movements, and probably it was true, for the lines of peace are not seen in an uneasy figure, nor do the movements of grace come from a restless spirit. The colonel's own brow should have lundent at the sweet side, but it did not. He drew his brows lower and lower over his watching eyes, and now and then set his teeth in a grim sort of way for which there seemed no sort of provocation. The heart noeth in his own bitterness. No doubt colonel Gainsborough's tasted its own particular draft that night, which he shared with nobody. End of Chapter 46. Recording by Nancy Cochran-Gergen, Gilbert, Arizona. Chapter 47. 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 Wall Flower by Susan Morder, Chapter 47. A Talk. The next day began for Esther quiet and its wanted-wise, and it will be no harm to see how that was. She was up very early, a long while before the sun, and after a somewhat careful dressing, for it was not in Esther's nature to do anything imperfectly, she went downstairs to her father's little study or dwelling-room. It was free for her use at this time of day. The colonel took a late breakfast, and was never up long before it. This had grown to be his invalid habit. In the early days of his life and of military service, no doubt it had been different. The room was empty and still at this hour, even Mrs. Barker was not yet a stirrer, and a delightful sense of privacy and security encompassed the temporary occupant. The weather was still warm, no fire would be needed till it was time for the colonel's toast. Moving like a mouse, or better, like a gentle domestic spirit, Esther lit a lamp, opened a window to let the morning air in, and sat down to her book. Do you think it was philosophy, or science, or languages, or schoolwork? Nay, it was something which with Esther went before all these, and if need were, would have excluded all of them. She had time for them too, as things were, but this must come first. She must draw water from the wells of salvation, before she felt freshened up for the rather weary encounters and dry routine of school life. She must feel the rock under her feet, and breathe the air of heaven a bit, before she ventured forth into the low-lying grounds and heavy vapors of earthly business and intercourse, and she must have her armor well on, and bright, before she dared to meet the possible dangers and temptations which might come to her in the course of the day. It is true this day was a free day, but that made no difference, being at home had its trials and difficulties as well as being abroad. But drawn from those wells and breathing that air, Esther thought nothing of trials or difficulties, and, in matter of fact, for her they hardly seem to exist, or were perceived as it were, dimly, and their contact scarce felt. I suppose it is true in all warfareers that a well-armed and alert soldier is led alone by the foes that would have swallowed him up if he had been defenseless or not given he. And if you could have seen Esther's face during that hour, you would understand that all possible enemies were, at least for the time, as hushed as the lions in Daniel's den. So glad, so grave, so pure and steadfast, so enjoying, was the expression which lay upon it. Reading and praying, praying and reading, and our good went by. Then Esther rose up, ready for the work of the day. She threw open all the windows and put out her lamp. Then she gave both the rooms a careful cleaning and dusting and putting in order, set the table in the one for breakfast and laid the fire in the other to be lit whenever her father might desire it. All this done and in readiness she sat down again to study. This time it was study of a lower grade, partly preparation for schoolwork, partly reading for her own advancement, though there was not much time for this latter. It was long past eight and Mrs. Barker came with a chafing dish of red gulls and the tea kettle. She stood by while Esther made the tea, looking on or meditating, and then began to blow the gulls in the chafing dish. She blew the gulls and looked at Esther. Mrs. Esther, she began. Did Master say anything about the visitor that came to see him yesterday? Not much, why? He said it was somebody owned business. Well, Mum, he didn't look like that soda person at all. Why not? Any sort of person might come on business, you know. True, Mum, but this wasn't that sort of person. If Christopher had opened the door for him, he'd have known. But my eyes is that poor when I'm looking out into the light. I can't seem to see nothing that's near me. But how some ever, Mum, what I did see of him, somehow, it put me in mind of Seaforth. Seaforth? Why? Who did you think it was? I am sure, Mum, I don't know. I couldn't see good with the light behind him, and he's standing in the doorway. And I can't say how it was, but what he made me think of, it was Seaforth, Mum. I am afraid you've been thinking of Seaforth Barker, said Esther, with half a sigh. It could not have been anybody we used to know. Papa went there, you know, last summer. To see old friends, or to see what had become of them. And Mr. and Mrs. Dallas were gone to England, to their son, and with them the young lady he is to marry. I dare say he may be married by this time, or just going to be married. He has quite forgotten us, you may be sure. I do not expect ever to see him again. Was this man yesterday young or old? Young, Mum, and tall and straight and very personable. I'd like to see his face, but it may be as you say. Perhaps Esther would have put some further question to her father at breakfast about his yesterday's visit. But as it happened she had other things to think of. The Colonel was in a quarrelous mood. Not altogether uncommon in these days, but always very trying to ester. When he seemed contented and easy, she felt repaid for all labors or deprivations. But when that state of things failed, and he made himself uncomfortable about his surroundings, there would come a miserable, qui bono feeling. If he were not satisfied, then what did she work for? And what was gained by it all? This morning she was just about to put a question when Colonel Gainsborough began. Is this the best butter one can get in this town? Papa, I do not know. Said Esther, brought back from yesterday to today with a sudden pull. It is Mrs. Bounder's butter, and we have always found it very good. And she lets us have it at a lower rate than we could get it in the stores. Nothing is good that it's got at a low rate. I do not believe in that plan. It is generally a cheat in the end. It has been warm weather, you know, Papa. And it is difficult to keep things so clean. It has been warm weather, you know, Papa. And it is difficult to keep things so nice without a cool cellar. That is one of the benefits of living in Major Street. It ought to be called minor, for we are minus nearly everything, I think. What could Esther say? My dear, what sort of bread is this? It is from the baker's, Papa. Is it not good? Baker's bread is never good, not fit to nourish life upon. How comes that we have baker's bread? Barker knows what I think of it. I suppose she was unable to bake yesterday. And, of course, today her bread will be too fresh to be eatable. My dear, cannot you bring a little system into her ways? She does the very best she can, Papa. Yes, yes, I know that, as far as the intention goes. But all such people want to head over them. They know nothing whatever about system. By the way, can she fry her bacon without burning it? This is done to a crisp. Papa, I am very sorry. I did not mean to give you a burnt piece. Mine is very good. Let me find you a better bit. It doesn't matter, said the Colonel, giving his plate an unloving shove. A man lives and dies all the same, whether his bacon is burnt or not. I suppose nothing matters. Are you going to that party at Mrs? I forget her name? I think not, Papa. Why not? Esther hesitated. Why not? Don't you like to go? Yes, sir. I like it very well. Then why don't you go? At least you can give a reason. There are more reasons than one, said Esther. She was extremely unwilling to reveal either of them. Well, go on. If you know them, you can tell them to me. What are they? Papa, it is really of no consequence, and I do not mind in the least. But in truth, my old silk dress has been worn until it is already fit to go anywhere in. Can't you get another? I should not think it right, Papa. We want the money for other things. What things? Did he not know? Esther drew breath to answer. Papa, there are the taxes, which I agreed with Mrs. Bounder I would pay, you know, as part of the rent. The money is ready, and that is a great deal more pleasure than a dress and a party would be to me. And then winter is coming on, and we must lay in our fuel. I think to do it now, while it is cheaper. And so, for that, you are to stay at home and see nobody. Isn't it right, Papa? And whatever is right is always pleasant in the end. Deucidly pleasant, said the Colonel Grimly, and rising from the table. I am going to my room, Esther, and I do not wish to be called to see anybody. If business comes, you must attend to it. Call to see anybody. Whoever came to that house on business or otherwise, but at the most rare intervals. And now one business visit had just come yesterday, there might not be another in months. Esther looked a little sorrowful, for her father's expression, most unwanted from his mouth, showed his irritation to be extreme. But what had irritated him? However, she was somewhat accustomed to this sort of demonstration, which nevertheless always grieved her. And she was glad that she had escaped telling her father her second reason. The truth was, Esther's way of life was so restricted and monotonous outwardly, she lived so by herself and to herself, that the stimulus and refreshment of a social occasion, like that one when she had met Ms. Farah a year ago, was almost too pleasant. It made Esther feel a little too sensibly how alone and shut out from human intercourse was the nobler part of herself. A little real intellectual converse and contact was almost too enjoyable. It was a mental breath of fresh air, in which life seemed to change and become a different thing. And then, we all know how close air seems after fresh. The routine of school teaching and the stillness and uniformity of her home existence, seemed to press upon her painfully, till after time she became wanted to it again. So, on the whole, she thought it not amiss that her old party dress had done all the service it decently could, and that she had no means to get another. And now, after a few moments gray of shadow on her face, all shadows cleared away, as they usually did, and she set herself to the doing of what this holiday at home gave her to do. There was mending, making up accounts, a drawing to finish her model. After that, if she could get it all done in time, there might be a bit of blessed reading and a new book that her old friend Miss Fairbairn had lent her. Esther said her face bravely to her day's work. The morning was not far advanced and the mending was not finished when the unwanted door-knocker sounded again. This time the door was opened by someone whom Pitt did not know, and who did not know him. For Mrs. Bounder had come into town, and, as Barker's hands were just in her bread, had volunteered to go to the door for her. Pitt was ushered into the little parlor in which, as nobody was there, he had leisure to make several observations. Yesterday he had no leisure for them, now he looked about in. That the fortunes of the family must have come down very much it was evident. Such a street in the first place. Then this little bit of a house, and then there was more than that. He could see tokens unmistakable of scantness of means. The drug it was well worn, had been darned in two places, very neatly, but darned it was, and the rest of it threatened breaches. The carpet beyond the drug it was old and faded, and the furniture? Pitt wondered if it could be the same furniture it looked so different here. There was the colonel's couch, however. He recognized that, although in its chance cover, which was no longer new, but faded like the carpet. Books on the table were certainly the colonel's books, but no pictures were on the walls, no pretty trifles lying about. Nothing was there that could testify of the least margin of means for anything that was not strictly necessary. Yet it was neat and comfortable. But Pitt felt that expenditures were very closely measured, and no latitude allowed to ease or to fancy. He stood a few minutes, looking and taking all this in, and then the inner door opened, and he regarded instantly. At one stroke, as it were, the mean little room was transformed into a sacred temple, and here was the priestess. The two young people stood a second or two silent, facing each other. But Esther knew him at once, and more, as she met the Frank, steadfast eyes that she had known and trusted so long ago, she trusted them at once again and perfectly. There was no mistaking either their truth or their kindness. In spite of his new connections and alienated life, her old friend had not forgotten her. She extended her hand with a flash of surprise and pleasure in her face, which was not a flash but a dawn, for it grew and brightened into warmer kindness. Pitt Dallas, she said, it is really you. The two hands met and clasped and lay in each other, but Pitt had no words for what went on within him. With the first side of Esther, he knew that he had met his fate. Here was all that he had left six or seven years ago. How changed? The little head so well said on its shoulders, with its wealth of beautifully ordered hair, those wonderful grave, soft, sweet, thoughtful eyes, the character of the quiet mouth, the pure dignity and grace of the whole creature, all lay to spell upon the man. He found no words to speak audibly, but in his mind words heaped on words, and he was crying to himself, oh my beauty, oh my gazelle, my fair saint, my lily, my queen. What right he had to the personal pronoun does not appear. However, we know that appropriation is an instinct of humanity for that which it likes. And it may also be noted that Pitt never thought of calling Esther a rose, nor would anyone else. That was not her symbol. Roses are sweet, sweeter than anything, and yielding in fairness to nothing, but, let me be pardoned for saying it, they are also common, and Esther was rather something apart, rare. If I liken her to a lily, I do not mean those fair white lilies which painters throw at the feet of Franciscan monks, and dedicate also to the Virgin, annunciation lilies so-called. They are common too, and rather specially emblems of purity. What I am thinking of, and what Pitt was thinking of is, on the contrary, one of those unique, exotic lilies which are as much wonders of color as marbles of grace, apart, reserved, pure, also lofty, and delicate to the last degree, queening it over all the rest of the flowers around, not so much by official preeminence of beauty as by the superiority of the spiritual nature, a difference internal and ineffable, which sets them of necessity aside of the crowd and above it. Pitt felt all this in a breath which I have taken so many words clumsily to set forth. He, as I said, took no words and only gave such expression to his thoughts as he could at the moment by bowing very low over Esther's hand and kissing it, something about the action hurt Esther. She drew her hand away. It is a great surprise, she said quietly. Won't you sit down? The surprise ought to have been that you did not see me before, not that I am here now. I got over that surprise a great while ago, said Esther. At least I thought I did, but it comes back to me now that I see you. How was it? How could it be? In answer to which, Pitt gave her a detailed account in the past years to discover the retreat of his old friends. This was useful to him. He got his breath as it were which the sight of Esther had taken away was himself again. Esther listened silently with perfect faith in the speaker and his statements with a little undefined sort of regretfulness. So then, Pitt may not have been lost to them if only they could have been found. Just what that thought meant and to inquire, she hardly interrupted him at all. What do you suppose became of your letters? She asked when he had done for Pitt had not said that they went to his father's hands. I suppose they shared the fate of all letters uncalled for if not the dead letter office, the fire. It was not very strange that you could not find us when you came to New York. We really troubled the post office with nothing to expect from it and that was the only place where you could hope to get a clue. Neither would Esther mention Mr. Dallas. With a woman's curious fine discernment she had seen that all was not right in that quarter. Indeed, has suspected it long ago. But you got some letters from me, Pitt went on. While you were in Seaforth, one or two I know. Yes, several. Oh yes, while you were in Seaforth. You had answers. Do you remember one long letter you wrote me the second year after I went? Yes, she said, without looking at him. Esther, that letter was worth everything to me. It was like a sunbeam coming out between misty clouds and showing things for a moment in their true colors. I never forgot it. I never could forget it though I fought for some years with the truth it revealed to me. And so I knew what I ought to do. But I struggled against my convictions. I knew from that time that it was the happiest thing and the worthiest thing to be a saint. All the same, I wanted to be a sinner. I wanted to follow my own way and be my own master. I wanted to distinguish myself in my profession and rise in the world and tower over other men. And I liked all the delights of life as well as other people do in the horrible life of self-indulgence, which I had means to gratify. Esther, I fought hard. I fought for years. Can you believe it? Before I could make up my mind. And now, she said, looking at him. Now? Now, said he, lowering his voice a little. Now I have come to know the truth of what you told me. I have learned to know Christ. And I know, as you know, that knowledge. I understand what Paul meant when he said he had suffered the loss of all things for it and counted them less than nothing. So do I. So what I. So have I. As far as the giving up of myself and them to their right owner goes. That is done. Esther was very glad. She knew she ought to be very glad and she was. And yet, gladness was not precisely what in the world could make her think of tears at that moment. But there was a strange sensation as if, had she been alone, she would have liked to cry. No shadow of such a softness appeared, however. What decided you at last, she said softly? I can scarce tell you, he answered. I was busy studying the matter, arguing for and against. And then I saw, of a sudden, that I was fighting a lost battle, and the reason and conscious were all gained over, and only my will held out. Then I gave up fighting anymore. You came up to the subject of a different side from what I did, Esther remarked. And you, Esther, have you been always as happy as you were when you wrote that letter? Yes, she said quietly, more happy, but she did not look up. The happiness in your letter was the sunbeam that cleared up from your heart. Tell me of yourself and your father. There is not much to tell, said Esther, with that odd quietness. She felt somehow oppressed. We are living in the old fashion, have been living so all alone. But quite in the old fashion, he said with a swift glance at the little room where they were sitting. It does not look so, Esther. This is not so pleasant in place as we were in when we first Esther confessed. That was very pleasant. Why did you change? It was necessary, she said with a smile. You may as well know it. Papa lost money. How? He invested the money from the sale of the place at Seaforth and some stocks that gave out somehow. He lost it all. So then we had nothing but the stipend from England. And I think Papa somehow had some obligations. And you? We did very well, said Esther with another smile. We are doing very well now. We are out of debt and that is everything. And I think Papa is pretty comfortable. And Esther? Esther is happy. But I should think, forgive me, that this bit of a house would hardly hold you. And so far, we have two rooms unused. Pitsize robed somewhat restlessly over the one in which they were, as he remarked. I never comprehended just why you went away from Seaforth. For my education, I believe, you were getting a very good education when I was there. When you were there, repeated Esther, smiling, but then she went on quickly. And I thought, why don't you go to Seaforth? And I thought, why don't you go to Seaforth? And so I finished if we stayed in Seaforth. So we came to New York and now you see, I am able to provide for him. The education is turning to account. How, asked Pitt suddenly, I help out his small income by giving lessons. You giving lessons? And this certainly was given me. And by means of that, we get along nicely. Again, Pitt cyclized over the scanty little apartment. What sort of getting along was it which kept them here? What do you teach? He asked, speaking out of a confusion of thoughts, the one thing that occurred, which it was safe to say. Drawing and music and some English branches. Do you like it? She hesitated. I do not fancy that teaching for money is just the same as teaching for pleasure. But I'm very glad to be able to do it. Before that, there was a time when I did not know just what was going to become of us. Now I am very happy. Pitt could not at the moment speak all his thoughts. Moreover, there was something about Esther that perplexed him. She was so unmovedly quiet in her manner. She was unpleasant and pleased. And yet there was a smooth distance between him and her that troubled him. He did not know how to get rid of it. It was so smooth, there was nothing to take hold of. While it was so distant, or put her rather at such a distance, that all Pitt's newly aroused feelings were stimulated to the utmost, both by the charm and by the difficulty. How exquisite was this soft dignity and calm. But to the man who was longing for her, it was somewhat aggravating. What has become of Christopher, he asked after a pause. Oh, Christopher is happy, said Esther with a smile that was only too frank and free. Pitt wished she would have shown a little embarrassment or consciousness. Christopher is happy. He has become a householder and a market gardener and above all a married man married a market gardener's widow and set up for himself. It was not him. Oh, we could not afford it now, said Esther with another smile. It was very good for us, almost as good for us as for him. Christopher has become a man of substance. We hire this house of him or rather of his wife. Are the two not one then? Esther laughed. Yes, she said, but you know which one it is depends on circumstances. And she went on to tell about her first meeting with the present and of all the subsequent intercourse and long chain of kindnesses to which Pitt listened eagerly, though with a somewhat distracted mind. At the end of her story, Esther rose. End of Chapter 47, recording by Nancy Cochran-Gergen, Gilbert, Arizona. Chapter 48 of a Red Wallflower. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to be a volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Nancy Cochran-Gergen, Gilbert, Arizona. A Red Wallflower by Susan Warner, Chapter 48. A Settlement. Will you excuse me if I leave you for one moment to go down into the kitchen? What for? said Pitt, stopping her. I want to see if Mrs. Barker has anything in the house for lunch. Sit down again. I know that there will be one more at table today. Never mind. If the supplies fall short, I will go out and get some oysters. I know the Colonel likes oysters. Sit still and let us talk while we can. Esther sat down a little wondering, for Pitt was evidently an earnest, too much in earnest to be denied. But when she had sat down, he did not begin to talk. He was thinking and words were not ready. Can you, Pitt? What are you going to do? It was the first time she had called him by his name in the old fashion. He acknowledged it with a pleased glance. Don't you know all about me? He said, I know nothing but what you have told me. And here say, added Esther, calling the load. Did your father not tell you? Papa told me nothing and therewith it occurred to Esther to inform her who his visitor had been. And then it also occurred to her how he had desired not to be called down to see anybody that morning. Then it must be that he did not want to see Pitt. Had he taken a dislike to him? Disapproved of his marriage perhaps? And how would luncheon be under these circumstances? One thought succeeded another in growing confusion. But then Pitt began to talk and she was obliged to attend to him. Then your father did not tell you that I have become a householder too? I know, yes, I heard something said about it, Esther answered stammering. He told you of my old uncle's death and gift to me? No, nothing of that. What is it? Then Pitt began and gave her the whole story of his life with his uncle, of Mr. Strahan's excellences and peculiarities, of his favor, his illness and death that he had bequeathed intact to his grand-nephew. He described the house at Kensington finding a singular pleasure in talking about it. For, as his imagination recalled the old chambers and halls, Pitt constantly brought into them the sweet figure of the girl he was speaking to and there was a play of light often or a warm glow or a sudden sparkle in his eyes which Esther could not help noticing. Womanlike, it is like Pitt only to be sure she never put herself in the place of the person concerned but gave all that secret homage to another. It is like Pitt, she thought, with a suppressed side which she could not stop to criticize. It is like him, as much an earnest in love as in other things, always an earnest. It must be something to be loved so. However, it is like Pitt being picked by Manor which was bewitching Pitt and entered with generous interest into all he told her supplying in her own way what he did not tell and on her part also pupiling the halls and chambers at Kensington with two figures neither of which was her own. Her imagination flew back to the party a year ago a while ago. Had she changed too perhaps? It was to be hoped. Pitt ended what he had to say about his uncle in his house and there was a little pause. Esther half-wondered that he did not get up and go away but there was no sign of that. Pitt sat quietly, thoughtfully, also contentedly before her at least so far as appeared of all his thoughts, not one of them concerned going away. For she thought now that he was married he would be taken up with his own home interests and the friend of other days is still living would be entirely lost. And so every look and expression of his which testified to a fine and sweet and strong character which proved him greatly ennobled and beautified beyond what she had remembered him and all his words which showed the gentleman, the man of education and the character they began oddly to make her feel alone and poor. Still she would use her opportunity and make the most of this interview. And what are you going to be Pitt? She asked when both of them had been quite still for a few minutes. He turned his face quick towards her with a look of question. Now your amount of property said Esther what do you think to do? You were going to read law. I have been reading law and are you going to give it up? Why should I give it up? The question seems rather why should you go on with it? Put it so he said ask the question why should I go on with it? I have asked the question said Esther laughing. You seem to come to me for the answer. I do. What is the answer? Give it please. Is money enough to live upon should go to the bar? I can think about one said Esther Grave been wondering now. Perhaps there is one reason. And that said Pitt without looking at her I can think about one Esther repeated it is not a man's business view I know but it is mine I can think of no reason why for itself. A man should plunge himself supposing that he need not except for the one sake of writing the wrong and delivering the oppressed. That is my view said Pitt quietly and is that what you are going to do? She said with smothered eagerness and as well a smothered pain I do not boast to be a lawyer merely he said in the same quiet way not looking at her but I thought it would give me an advantage in the great oppressed go free so I proposed to finish my terms and be called to the bar then you will live in England said Esther with a most unaccountable feeling of depression at the thought for the present probably wherever I can do my work best your work that is do you ask me said he now looking at her with a very bright sense of it was so like the Pitt Dallas she used to know that Esther was confounded do you ask me what should be the work in life of one who was once a slave and is now Christ's free man Esther looked at him speechless you remember he said the Lord's word this is my commandment that you love one another as I have loved you and then he immediately gave the gauge and measure of that lay down his life for his friends and you mean only that Queen Esther I reckon that my life is the Lord's and that the only use of it is to do his work I will study law for that and practice as I may have occasion and for that I will use all the means he may give me so far as I can to break every yoke and let the oppressed go free to heal a sick and raise the dead cast out devils so far as I may surely it is the least I can do for my master Pitt spoke quietly gravely with the light of a subtle purpose in his eye and also with the peace of a fixed joy in his face indeed his face said more than his words to Esther who knew him and it she read there the truth of what he said and that it was no fantasy of passing enthusiasm but a lifelong choice grave and glad of which he was telling her with a sudden movement she stretched out her hand to him which he eagerly clasped and their hands lay so in each other for a minute without other speech than that of the close held fingers Esther's other hand however had covered her eyes what is the matter Queen Esther said Pitt seeing this I am so glad so glad Esther took down her hand she was not crying glad for you and sorry that there are so very few feel as you do oh how very strange it is he still held her other hand yes he said thoughtfully it is strange what do you think of the old word in the Bible that it is not good for men to be alone I suppose it is true Esther held her hand now she thought he is going to tell me about his bride and his marriage and she rather wished she could be spared that special communication at the same time the wondering speculation seized her again whether Betty Freire as she had seen her was likely to prove a good helpmate with this man you suppose it is true there can be no doubt about that I think for the man I have never studied the question by what people say the man is the more independent of the two when he is shown and the woman when she is old neither ought to be a dependent of the other they seldom are a feeling inclined to laugh although not in the least merry Pitt was silent a few minutes evidently involving something in his mind you said you had two rooms unoccupied he began at last there is some little time in New York yet will you let me move into them you explained Esther yes he said look into her steadfastly you do not want them and I do I do not believe they would suit you Pitt said Esther consumed with secret wonder I am sure no other could suit me half so well what do you think your bride would say to them you know that must be taken into consideration my bride I beg your pardon did I hear you right yes said Esther opening her eyes a little your bride your wife isn't she here who is she who was she do you mean or are you perhaps not married yet most certainly not married but may I beg you to go on you are going to tell me who the lady is supposed to be that I have seen her I believe I have seen her and I admire her too Pitt very much though when I saw her I do not think she would have agreed with the views she had been expressing to me where did you see her last fall oh a year ago almost time enough for minds to change it was at a party here and you saw cool Miss Frear isn't she the lady exclaimed Pitt and his color changed a little may I ask how the story about me has come to your ears and been believed as I see you have accepted it why very straight said Esther her own color flushing now brightly it was not difficult to believe it was very natural at least to me who have seen the lady Miss Frear and I are very good friends Pitt which state of things however we have never but we never did propose to be anything more what made you think it did Papa tell you that he went up to Seaforth this summer he said nothing about it he did go however it was a very great thing for Papa to do too for he goes nowhere and it is very hard for him to move but he went it was in August we had heard not a word from Seaforth for a long time not for two or three years I think and not a word from you and Papa had a mind to see what was the meaning of it all and whether anybody was left in Seaforth or not I thought everybody had forgotten us and Papa said he would go and see yes said Pitt as Esther paused and of course you know he found nobody all our friends were gone at least and people told Papa Seaforth a long while and the lady was there too whom you were going to marry and that this year they had all gone over to see you that lady and all and the wedding would probably be before Mr. and Mrs. Dallas came home so Papa came back and told me and you believed it of course how could I help believing it said Esther smiling but her eyes avoided Pitt now and her color went and came it was a very straight story yet not a bit of truth in it oh yes they came over to see me but I have never thought of marrying this fair nor any other lady nor ever shall unless you have forgotten me Esther Esther sat motionless that Pitt might have thought she had not heard him but for the swift flashing color which went and came she had heard him well enough and she knew what the words were meant to signify for the tone of them was unmistakable but answer in any way Esther could not she was a very fair image of madely modesty and womanly dignity rather unmistakable too in its way but she spoke not nor raised an eyelid have you forgotten me Esther he repeated gently she did not answer then she was moveless for another instant and then rising with a swift motion she passed out of the room in a manner of dismissal or leaf taking and Pitt waited for what was to come next and in another moment or two she was there again all covered with blushes and her eyes cast down down upon an old book which she held in her hand and presently held open she was standing before him now he having risen and she rose from the very fair brow and rosy cheek on the somewhat large page lay a dried flower the petals were still velvety and rich colored and still from them came a faint sweet breath of perfume what did it mean Pitt looked and then looked closer it is a charanthus he said the red variety what does it mean Esther what does it say to my question he looked at her eagerly what dreadful thing was this that his memory should not be so good as hers she could not speak the lovely shame-faced flushes mounted up to the delicate temples and told their tale but Pitt though he read them did not at once read the flower Esther made a motion as if she would take it away but he prevented her and looked closer the red charanthus he repeated did it come from Seaforth in his greenhouse Esther did I bring it to you Christmas don't you remember Christmas of course I do it was in that bouquet what became of the rest of it Papa maybe burned all the rest said Esther with her own cheeks now burning and she would have turned away leaving the book in his hands with an action of a shy grace but Pitt got rid of the book and took herself in his arms instead and then for a few minutes there was no more conversation they had reached a point of mutual understanding where words would have been superfluous but words came into their right again Esther do you remember my kissing you when I went away six or seven years ago certainly I think that kiss was in some sort a revelation to me I did not fully recognize it then what the revelation was but I think ever since I have been conscious vaguely that there was an invisible silk and thread of some sort finding me to you and that I should never be quite right till I followed the clue and found you again the vagueness is gone and is given place to the most daylight certainty I am glad of that said Esther did you miss me Pitt more than I can possibly tell you not then only but all the time since only one thing has kept me from being very downhearted sometimes when time passed and we heard nothing of you and I was obliged to give you up you should not have given me up yes there was nothing else for it I found it was best not to think about you at all happily I had plenty of duties to think of and duties if you take hold of them right become pleasures doing them for the master yes and for our fellow creatures too both interests come in and so make life full and rich even in common details of it but queen Esther my queen do you know that you will be my queen always that word expresses your future position as far as I am concerned no said Esther a little nervously I think hardly where there is a queen there is commonly also a king somewhere you know his business is to see the queen's commands carried out we will not quarrel about it said Esther laughing but after all Pitt that is not like you you always knew your own mind and always had your own way it is your turn it would be a very odd novelty in my life said Esther but now Pitt I really must go and see about luncheon Hoppa will be down and Mrs. Barker does not know that you are here and it would be a sort of relief to take hold of something so commonplace as luncheon I seem to myself to have got into some sort of unreal fairyland I am in fairyland too but it is real let me go Pitt please luncheon is of no consequence Hoppa will think differently I will go out and get him some oysters to conciliate him to conciliate him yes he will need conciliating I can tell you do you suppose he will look on complacently and see you who have been holding his possession and property pass over out of his hands and mine it is not human nature Esther stood still and colored high does Papa know he knows all about it Queen Esther except what you may have said to me I think he understood what I was going to say to you or Papa said Esther thoughtfully not at all said Pitt inconsistently we will take care of him together much better than you could alone Esther drew a long breath then you speak to Barker and I will get some oysters said Pitt with a parting kiss and was off in a moment the luncheon after all passed off quite tolerably well the Colonel took the oysters and Pitt with a kind of grim acquiescence he was an old soldier and no doubt had not forgotten all the lessons once learned in that impressive school and as everyone knows to accept the inevitable would seriously have tried to fight off Pitt and his pretensions if he could at least none of things were Pitt had told him his own circumstances and the Colonel knew that without barbarity he could not refuse ease and affluence and an excellent position for his daughter and condemn her to schoolkeeping in major street for the rest of her life especially since the Alpha was a company with no drawbacks except the one trifle that Esther must marry and she was told to swallow but the Colonel swallowed it and hardly made a right face he would be glad to get away from major street himself so he ate his oysters as I said grimly was certainly courteous if also cool and Pitt even succeeded in making the conversation flow passively well which is hard to do when it rests upon one devoted person alone Esther did everything but talk after the meal was over 10 minutes just enough for politeness and then went off to his room again with a dry and somewhat uncalled for remark that they did not want him that is true said Pitt humorously Pitt said Esther hurriedly if you don't mind I want to get my work there is something on us too and I can do it just as well while you are talking she went off and returned with a drawing board in her seat and prepared to go on with a drawing that had been begun what are the claims of this thing to be considered work said Pitt after watching our minute or two it is a copy that I shall need Monday morning only a little thing I can attend to you just the same a copy for whom one of my scholars she said with a smile at him that copy will never be wanted and Monday I should have no time to do it so I thought I would finish it now it will not take me long Pitt Queen Esther said he laying his hand over hers all that is over oh no Pitt how should it she said looking at it now since it was no use to look at her paper I cannot have you doing your sort of work any longer but she said flushing high yes I must have my queen I cannot let you do it any longer you may give me lessons nobody else but said Esther catching a breath then not willing to open the whole chapter of discussion she saw had she caught at the nearest and smallest item you know I am under obligations and I must meet them until other arrangements are made I am expected I am depended on I must not fail and others then I will do this part of the work said he taking the pencil from her fingers give me your place please Esther gave him her chair and took his and then she sat down and watched the drawing now and then her eyes made a swift passage to his face for a half second to explore the features so well known and yet so new but those were kind of fearful glances which dreaded to be caught and for the most part she was standing on the hands busy with it hands we know tell of character and Esther's eyes rested with secret pleasure on the shapely fingers which in their manly strength and skillful agility corresponded so well to what she knew of their possessor the fingers worked on for a time silently pit this is oddly like old times said Esther at last things have got into their right grooves again said he contentedly but what are you doing that is beautiful but you're making a great deal to elaborate and difficult for my scholar she's not far enough advanced for that I'll take another piece of paper then and begin again what do you want just a tree lightly sketched and a bit of rock under it something like that she is a beginner a tree and a rock said pit but queen Esther this sort of thing cannot go on you know for a while it must for a very little while in fact I do not see how it can go on at all I will go and see your school madam and tell her you have made another engagement but every honest person fulfills the obligations he is under before assuming new ones that's past praying for said pit with a shake of his head you have assumed the new ones now the next thing is to get rid of the old ones I must go back to my work soon and queen Esther your majesty will not refuse to go with me he turned and stretched out his hand to her as he spoke in the action in the intonation of the last words in the look which went with him there was something very difficult for Esther to withstand it was so far from presuming it was so delicate in its urgency there was so much wistfulness in it and at the same time Esther's personal influence Esther placed her hand within his she could not help that the bright color flamed up in her cheeks words were not ready what are you thinking about said he Papa Esther said half allowed but she was thinking of a thousand things all at once I'll undertake the colonel said he going back to his drawing without letting go Esther's hand I think in this case he will be of my mind he was silent again and Esther was silent too with her heart beating and a quiet feeling of happiness and rest gradually stealing in her heart and filling it like as the tide had fled comes in upon the empty shore whatever her father might think upon the just mooted question those two hands had found each other once and for all thoughts went roving such a flood tide of content Pitt worked on rapidly then a word came to Esther's lips Pitt you have become quite an Englishman haven't you no more than you are an English woman I think I am rather an American said Esther I have lived here nearly all my life do you like New York I was not thinking of New York yes I like it I think I like any place where my home is my future home rather in Seaforth or in London you know I am at home in both Esther would not speak the woman's answer that rose to her lips the immediate response that where he was would be what she liked best it flushed in her cheek and it parted her lips but it came not forth in words instead came a caring question of business what are the arguments on either side of the old strokes of the pencil in Seaforth the sun always shines or that is my recollection of it does it not shine in London no as a rule Esther thought it did not matter then for another consideration in Seaforth you would never see I suppose almost never sites of human distress there are no poor there and in London the distress is before you and all around you and such distress as I suppose your heart cannot imagine then said Esther softly as far as that goes it seems to me an argument for living in London he made her eyes with an earnest warm look of somewhat wistful recognition intense with his own feeling of the subject glad in her sympathy and yet tenderly cognizant of the way the subject would affect her many on which you and Ms. Friar differ he said however coolly going back to his drawing she does not like or would not like living in London I beg your pardon but she would object to your reason for living there Esther was silent her recollection of Betty quite agreed with his observation you say you have seen her that went on presently yes and liked her too in a way did she know your name yes suddenly facing round why certainly said Esther smiling we were properly introduced and we talked for a long while and very earnestly she interested me Pitts brows drew together ominously poor Betty the old Spanish proverb would have held good in her case if you do not want to think known of you don't do it Esther went on furiously fast and Esther sat by wondering what he was thinking of but soon his brow cleared again as his drawing was done and he flung down the pencil and turned to her Esther he said it is dawning on me like a glory out of the sky that you and I are not merely to live our earthly life together and serve together in London or anywhere in the work given us to do that stretches an endless life and ages of better service in which we shall still be together and love and live with each other in the light of such a distant glory is it much if we in this little life on earth give all we have to him who has brought all that and all this too for us it is not much said Esther with a sudden veil of moisture coming over her eyes through which they shone like two stars literally he said so do I we will be only stewards using faithfully everything and doing everything so as it seems would be most for his honor and best for his work yes said Esther but gladness is like to choker from speaking at all in India there is not the poorest Hindu but puts by from his every meal of rice so much as a spoonful for his god that is the utmost he can do shall we do less than our utmost not with my good will said Esther from whose bright eyes bright drops fell down but she was looking steadfastly at Pitt I am not a very rich man but I have an abundant independence without asking my father for anything we can live as we like Esther you can keep your courage if you choose but for me I would like nothing so well as to use it all for the Lord Christ oh Pitt oh Pitt so would I then you will watch over me and I will watch over you said he with a glad ceiling of this combat for unless we are strange people we shall both need watching and now come here and let me tell you about your house I think you will like that there is no need to add anymore except only the one fact that on the day of Esther's marriage Pitt brought her a bunch of red wall flowers which he made fast himself to her dress she must wear he said no other flower but that on her wedding day end of chapter 48 recording by Nancy Cochran-Gergen Gilbert Arizona end of a red wall flower by Susan Warner