ble; and the rent is so moderate that we can pay
our way and be at ease. Papa, I would not like the finest house in the
world, if I had to run in debt to live in it.'

'What is the name of the street?'

'Major Street'

'Whereabouts is it? In the darkness I could not see where we were
going.'

'Papa, it is in the east part of the city, not very far from the river.
Fulton Market is not very far off either, which is convenient.'

'Who lives here?' asked the colonel, with a gathering frown on his brow.

'I know none of the people; nor even their names.'

'Of course not! but you know, I suppose, what sort of people they are?'

'They are plain people, papa; they are not of our class. They seem to
be decent people.'

'Decent? What do you mean by decent?'

'Papa, I mean not disorderly people; not disreputable. And is not that
enough for us, papa? Oh, papa, does it matter what the people are, so
long as our house is nice and pretty and warm, and the low rent just
relieves us from all our difficulties? Papa, do be pleased with it! I
think it is the very best thing we could have done.'

'Esther, there are certain things that one owes to oneself.'

'Yes, sir; but must we not pay our debts to other people first?'

'Debts? We were not in debt to anybody!'

'Yes, papa, to more than one; and I saw no way out of the difficulty
till I heard of this house. And I am so relieved now--you cannot think
with what a relief;--if only _you_ are pleased, dear papa.'

He must know so much of the truth, Esther said to herself with rapid
calculation. The colonel did not look pleased, it must be confessed.
All the prettiness and pleasantness on which Esther had counted to
produce a favourable impression seemed to fail of its effect; indeed,
seemed not to be seen. The colonel leaned his head on his hand and
uttered something very like a groan.

'So this is what we have come to!' he said. 'You do not know what you
have done, Esther.'

Esther said nothing to that. Her throat seemed to be choked. She looked
at her beautiful little fire, and had some trouble to keep tears from
starting.

'My dear, you did it for the best, I do not doubt,' her father added
presently. 'I only regret that I was not consulted before an
irrevocable step was taken.'

Esther could find nothing to answer.

'It is quite true that a man remains himself, whatever he does that is
not morally wrong; it is true that our real dignity is not changed;
nevertheless