_STRAWBERRIES_.
The winter passed, Esther hardly knew how. For her it was in a depth of
study; so absorbing that she only now and then and by minutes gave her
attention to anything else. Or perhaps I should say, her thoughts; for
certainly the colonel never lacked his ordinary care, which she gave
him morning and evening, and indeed all day, when she was at home, with
a tender punctuality which proved the utmost attention. But even while
ministering to him, Esther's head was apt to be running on problems of
geometry and ages of history and constructions of language. She was so
utterly engrossed with her work that she gave little heed to anything
else. She did notice that Pitt Dallas still sent them no reminders of
his existence; it sometimes occurred to her that the housekeeping in
the hands of Mrs. Barker was becoming more and more careful; but the
only way she saw to remedy that was the way she was pursuing; and she
went only the harder at her constructions and translations and
demonstrations. The colonel lived _his_ life without any apparent
change.
And so went weeks and months: winter passed and spring carne; spring
ran its course, and the school year at last was at an end. Esther came
home for the long vacation. And then one day, Mrs. Barker confided to
her reluctantly that the difficulties of her position were increasing.
'You ask me, why don't I get more strawberries, Miss Esther. My dear, I
can't do it.'
'Cannot get strawberries? But they are in great plenty now, and cheap.'
'Yes, mum, but there's so many other things, Miss Esther.' The
housekeeper looked distressed. Esther was startled, and hesitated.
'You mean you have not money, Barker? Papa does not give you enough?'
'He gives me the proper sum, Miss Esther, I'm certain; but I can't make
it do all it should do, to have things right and comfortable.'
'Do you have less than you used at the beginning of winter?'
'Yes, mum. I didn't want to trouble you, Miss Esther, for to be sure
you can't do nothin' to help it; but it's just growin' slimmer and
slimmer.'
'Never mind; I think I know how to mend matters by and by; if we can
only get along for a little further. We must have some things, and my
father likes fruit, you can get strawberries from Mrs. Blumenfeld down
here, can you not?'
'No, mum,' said the housekeeper, looking embarrassed. 'She won't sell
us nothin', that woman won't.'
'Will not sell us anything? I thought she was so kind. What is the
matter? Is there not a good understanding between her and us?'
'There's too good an understanding, mum, and that's the truth. We don't
want no favours from the likes o' her; and now Christopher'--
'What of Christopher?'
'Hain't he said nothin' to the colonel?'
'To papa? No. About what?'
'He's gone and made an ass o' himself, has Christopher,' said the
housekeeper, colouring with displeasure.
'Why? How? What has he done?'
'He hain't done nothin' yet, mum, but he's bound he will, do the
foolishest thing a man o' his years can do. An' he wants me to stan' by
and see him! I do lose my patience whiles where I can't find it. As if
Christopher hadn't enough to think of without that! Men is all just
creatures without the power o' thought and foresight.'
'Thought?--why, that is precisely what is supposed to be their
distinguishing privilege,' said Esther, a little inclined to laugh.
'And Christopher was always very foresighted.'
'He ain't now, then,' muttered his sister.
'What is he doing?'
'Miss Esther, that yellow-haired woman has got holt o' him.'
This was said with a certain solemnity, so that Esther was very much
bewildered, and most incoherent visions flew past her brain. She waited
dumbly for more.
'She has, mum,' the housekeeper repeated; 'and Christopher ain't a
babby no more, but he's took--that's what he is. I wish, Miss
Esther--as if that would do any good!--that we'd stayed in Seaforth,
where we was. I'm that provoked, I don't rightly know myself.
Christopher ain't a babby no more; but it seems that don't keep a man
from bein' wuss'n a fool.'
'Do you mean'--
'Yes 'm, that's what he has done; just that; and I might as well talk
to my spoons. I've knowed it a while, but I was purely ashamed to tell
you about it. I allays gave Christopher the respect belongin' to a man
o' sense, if he warn't in high places.'
'But what has he done?'
'Didn't I tell you, Miss Esther? That yellow-haired woman has got holt
of him.'
'Yellow-haired woman?'
'Yes, mum,--the gardener woman down here.'
'Is Christopher going to take service with _her?_'
'He don't call it that, mum. He speaks gay about bein' his own master.
I reckon he'll find two ain't as easy to manage as one! She knows what
she's about, that woman does, or my name ain't Sarah Barker.'
'Do you mean,' cried Esther,--'do you mean that he is going to _marry_
her?'
'That's what I've been tellin' you, mum, all along. He's goin' to many
her, that he is; and for as old as he is, that should know better.'
'Oh, but Christopher is not _old;_ that is nothing; he is young enough.
I did not think, though, he would have left us.'
'An' that, mum, is just what he's above all sure and certain he won't
do. I tell him, a man can't walk two ways to once; nor he can't serve
two masters, even if one of 'em is himself, which that yellow-haired
woman won't let come about. No, mum, he's certain sure he'll never
leave the colonel, mum; that ain't his meaning.'
Esther went silently away, thinking many things. She was more amused
than anything else, with the lightheartedness of youth; yet she
recognised the fact that this change might introduce other changes. At
any rate, it furnished an occasion for discussing several things with
her father. As usual, when she wanted a serious talk with the colonel,
she waited till the time when his attention would be turned from his
book to his cup of tea.
'Papa,' she began, after the second cup was on its way, 'have you heard
anything lately of Christopher's plans?'
'Christopher's plans? I did not know he had any plans,' said the
colonel drily.
'He has, papa,' said Esther, divided between a desire to laugh and a
feeling that after all there was something serious about the matter.
'Papa, Christopher has fallen in love.'
'Fallen in _what?_' shouted the colonel.
'Papa! please take it softly. Yes, papa, really; Christopher is going
to be married.'
'He has not asked my consent.'
'No, sir, but you know--Christopher is of age,' said Esther, unable to
maintain a gravity in any way corresponding to that on her father's
face.
'Don't talk folly! What do you mean?'
'He has arranged to marry Mrs. Blumenfeld, the woman who keeps the
market garden over here. He does not mean to leave us, papa; the places
are so near, you know. He thinks, I believe, he can manage both.'
'He is a fool!'
'Barker is very angry with him. But that does not help anything.'
'He is an ass!' repeated the colonel hotly. 'Well, that settles one
question.'
'What question, papa?
'We have done with Christopher. I want no half service. I suppose he
thinks he will make more money; and I am quite willing he should try.'
Esther could see that her father was much more seriously annoyed than
he chose to show; his tone indicated a very unusual amount of
disturbance. He turned from the table and took up his book.
'But, papa, how can we do without Christopher?'
There was no answer to this.
'I suppose he really has a great deal of time to spare; our garden
ground is so little, you know. He does not mean to leave us at all.'
'_I_ mean he shall!'
Esther sat silent and pondered. There were other things she wished to
speak about; was not this a good occasion? But she hesitated long how
to be gin. The colonel was not very deep in his book, she could see; he
was too much annoyed.
'Papa,' she said slowly after a while, 'are our circumstances any
better than they were?'
'Circumstances? what do you mean?'
'Money, papa; have we any more money than we had when we talked about
it last fall?'
'Where is it to come from?' said the colonel in the same short, dry
fashion. It was the fashion in which he was wont to treat unwelcome
subjects, and always drove Esther away from a theme, unless it were too
pressing to be avoided.
'Papa, you know I do not know where any of our money comes from, except
the interest on the price of the sale at Seaforth.'
'I do not know where any _more_ is to come from.'
'Then, papa, don't you think it would be good to let my schooling stop
here?'
'No.'
'Papa, I want to make a very serious proposition to you. Do not laugh
at me' (the colonel looked like anything but laughing), 'but listen to
me patiently. You know we _cannot_ go on permanently as we have done
this year, paying out more than we took in?'
'That is my affair.'
'But it is for my sake, papa, and so it comes home to me. Now this is
my proposal. I have really had schooling enough. Let me give lessons.'
'Let you do _what?_'
'Lessons, papa; let me give lessons. I have not spoken to Miss
Fairbairn, but I am almost sure she would be glad of me; one of her
teachers is going away. I could give lessons in Latin and French and
English and drawing, and still have time to study; and I think it would
make up perhaps all the deficiency in our income.'
The colonel looked at her. 'You have not spoken of this scheme to
anybody else?'
'No, sir; of course not.'
'Then, do not speak of it.'
'You do not approve of it, papa?'
'No. My purpose in giving you an education was not that you might be a
governess.'
'But, papa, it would not hurt me to be a governess for a while; it
would do me no sort of hurt; and it would help our finances. There is
another thing I could teach--mathematics.'
'I have settled that question,' said the colonel, going back to his
book.
'Papa,' said the girl after a pause, 'may I give lessons enough to pay
for the lessons that are given me?'
'No.'
'But, papa, it troubles me very much, the thought that we are living
beyond our means; and on my account.' And Esther now looked troubled.
'Leave all that to me.'
Well, it was all very well to say, 'Leave that to me;' but Esther had a
strong impression that matters of this sort, so left, would not meet
very thorough attention. There was an interval here of some length,
during which she was pondering and trying to get up her courage to go
on.
'Papa,'--she broke the silence doubtfully,--'I do not want to disturb
you, but I must speak a little more. Perhaps you can explain; I want to
understand things better. Papa, do you know Barker has still less money
now to do the marketing with than she had last year?'
'Well, what do you want explained?' The tone was dry and not
encouraging.
'Papa, she cannot get the things you want.'
'Do I complain?'
'No, sir, certainly; but--is this necessary?'
'Is what necessary?'
'Papa, she tells me she cannot get you the fruit you ought to have; you
are stinted in strawberries, and she has not money to buy raspberries.'
'Call Barker.'
The call was not necessary, for the housekeeper at this moment appeared
to take away the tea-things.
'Mrs. Barker,' said the colonel, 'you will understand that I do not
wish any fruit purchased for my table. Not until further orders.'
The housekeeper glanced at Esther, and answered with her decorous,
'Certainly, sir;' and with that, for the time, the discussion was ended.