A Red Wallflower. Warner Susan

and I did not expect it of you, Queen Esther. I don't think I am changeable; but anyhow, I haven't changed towards you. I have but just got home this evening; and I ran away from home and my mother as soon as we had done supper, that I might come and see you.'

      Esther smiled: she was pleased, he saw.

      'And in the next place, as to that crotchet of your not seeing much more of me, I can't imagine how it ever got up; but it isn't true, anyhow. I expect you'll see an immense deal of me. I may go some time to England; about that I can't tell; but if I go, I shall come back again, supposing I am alive. And now, do you see that it would be very foolish of you to try to get accustomed to doing without me? for I shall not let you do it.'

      'I don't want to do it,' said Esther confidingly; 'for you know I have nobody else except you and papa.'

      'What put such an absurd notion in your head! You a Stoic, Queen

      Esther! You look like it!'

      'What is a Stoic?'

      'The sort of people that bite a nail in two, and smile as if it were a stick of peppermint candy.'

      'I didn't know there were any such people.'

      'No, naturally. So it won't do for you to try to imitate them.'

      'But I was not trying anything like that.'

      'What were you trying to do, then?'

      Esther hesitated.

      'I thought – I must do without you; and so – I thought I had better not think about you.'

      'Did you succeed?'

      'Not very well. But – I suppose I could, in time.'

      'See you don't! What do you think in that case I should do?'

      'Oh, you!' said Esther; 'that is different. I thought you would not care.'

      'Did you! You did me honour. Now, Queen Esther, let us understand this matter. I do care, and I am going to care, and I shall always care. Do you believe it?'

      'I always believe what you say,' said the girl, with a happy change in her face, which touched Pitt again curiously. Somehow, the contrast between his own strong, varied, rich, and active life, with its abundance of resources and enjoyments, careless and satisfied, – and this little girl alone at home with her cranky father, and no variety or change or outlook or help, struck him painfully. It would hardly have struck most young men; but Pitt, with all his rollicking waywardness and self-pleasing, had a fine fibre in him which could feel things. Then Esther's nature, he knew, was one rich in possibilities; to which life was likely to bring great joy or great sorrow; more probably both.

      'What book have you got there?' he asked suddenly.

      'Book? – Oh, the Bible.'

      'The Bible! That's something beyond your comprehension, isn't it?'

      'No,' said Esther. 'What made you think it was?'

      'Always heard it wasn't the thing for children. What set you at that,

      Queen Esther? Reading about your namesake?'

      'I have read about her. I wasn't reading about her to-night.'

      'What were you after, then?'

      'It's mamma's Bible,' said Esther rather slowly; 'and she used to say it was the best place to go for comfort.'

      'Comfort! What do you want comfort for, Esther?'

      'Nothing, now,' she said, with a smile. 'I am so glad you are come!'

      'What did you want comfort for, then?' said he, taking her hand, and holding it while he looked into her eyes.

      'I don't know – papa had gone to bed, and I was alone – and somehow it seemed lonesome.'

      'Will you go with me to-morrow after Christmas greens?'

      'Oh, may I?' cried the girl, with such a flush of delight coming into eyes and cheeks and lips, that Pitt was almost startled.

      'I don't think I could enjoy it unless you came. And then you will help me dress the rooms.'

      'What rooms?'

      'Our rooms at home. And now, what have you been doing since I have been away?'

      All shadows were got rid of; and there followed a half-hour of most eager intercourse, questions and answers coming thick upon one another. Esther was curious to hear all that Pitt would tell her about his life and doings at college; and, nothing loath, Pitt gave it her. It interested him to watch the play of thought and interest in the child's features as he talked. She comprehended him, and she seemed to take in without difficulty the strange nature and conditions of his college world.

      'Do you have to study hard?' she asked.

      'That's as I please. One must study hard to be distinguished.'

      'And you will be distinguished, won't you?'

      'What do you think? Do you care about it?'

      'Yes, I care,' said Esther slowly.

      'You were not anxious about me?'

      'No,' she said, smiling. 'Papa said you would be sure to distinguish yourself.'

      'Did he? I am very much obliged to Colonel Gainsborough.'

      'What for?'

      'Why, for his good opinion.'

      'But he couldn't help his opinion,' said Esther.

      'Queen Esther,' said Pitt, laughing, 'I don't know about that. People sometimes hold opinions they have no business to hold, and that they would not hold, if they were not perverse-minded.'

      Esther's face had all changed since he came in. The premature gravity and sadness was entirely dispersed; the eyes were full of beautiful light, the mouth taking a great many curves corresponding to as many alternations and shades of sympathy, and a slight colour of interest and pleasure had risen in the cheeks. If Pitt had vanity to gratify, it was gratified; but he had something better, he had a genuine kindness and liking for the little girl, which had suffered absolute pain, when he saw how his absence and silence had worked. Now the two were in full enjoyment of the old relations and the old intercourse, when the door opened, and Mrs. Barker's head appeared.

      'Miss Esther, it's your time.'

      'Time for what?' asked Pitt.

      'It's my time for going to bed,' said Esther, rising. 'I'll come, Mrs.

      Barker.'

      'Queen Esther, does that woman say what you are to do and not do?' said

      Pitt, in some indignation.

      'Oh no; but papa. He likes me not to be up later than nine o'clock.'

      'What has Barker to do with it? I think she wants putting in her place.'

      'She always goes with me and attends to me. Yes, I must go,' said

      Esther.

      'But the colonel is not here to be disturbed.'

      'He would be disturbed, if I didn't go at the right time. Good-night,

      Pitt.'

      'Well, till to-morrow,' said the young man, taking Esther's hand and kissing it. 'But this is what I call a very summary proceeding. Queen Esther, does your majesty always do what you are expected to do, and take orders from everybody!'

      'No; only from papa and you. Good-night, Pitt. Yes, I'll be ready to-morrow.'

      CHAPTER VIII

      A NOSEGAY

      Pitt walked home, half amused at himself that he should take so much pains about this little girl, at the same time very firmly resolved that nothing should hinder him. Perhaps his liking for her was deeper than he knew; it was certainly real; while his kindly and generous temper responded promptly to every appeal that her affection and confidence made upon him. Affection and confidence are very winning things, even if not given by a beautiful girl who will soon be a beautiful woman; but looking out from Esther's innocent eyes, they went down into the bottom of