y 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 did 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 or complain; 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 way. She seemed to enter
into everything they were doing with no less interest than usual; she
was not abstracted; rather, Pitt got 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 composedly.

'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 Gainsborough like me to do for his
daughter, do you think?'

Pitt was silent, and vexed.

'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, you mean?'

'If he lives. She will be very lonely when I am gone away.'

'That is because you 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 too
fine 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 la