_STRAWBERRIES_.

The winter pa.s.sed, 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 pa.s.sed 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 embarra.s.sed. '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 a.s.s 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?'