iends and
relations could not have failed? Why had he left Seaforth, where at
least they were living like themselves, and where they would not have
dropped out of the knowledge of Pitt Dallas? The feeling of loneliness
crept again over Esther, and a feeling of having to fight her way as it
were single-handed. Was this little house, and Major Street, henceforth
to be the scene and sphere of her life and labours? How could she ever
work up out of it into anything better?

Esther was tired, and felt blue, which was the reason why all these
thoughts and others chased through her mind; and more than one tear
rolled down and dropped on her stuff gown. Then she gathered herself
up. How had she come to Major Street and to school teaching? Not by her
own will or fault. Therefore it was part of the training assigned for
her by a wisdom that is perfect, and a love that never forgets. And
Esther began to be ashamed of herself. What did she mean by saying,
'The Lord is my Shepherd,' if she could not trust Him to take care of
His sheep? And now, how had she been helped out of her difficulties,
enabled to pay her debts, brought to a home where she could live and be
clear of the world; yes, and live pleasantly too? And as for being
alone-- Esther rose with a smile. 'Can I not trust the Lord for that
too?' she thought. 'If it is His will I should be alone, then that is
the very best thing for me; and perhaps He will come nearer than if I
had other distractions to take my eyes in another direction.'

Barker came in to remove the tea-things, and Esther met her with a
smile, the brightness of which much cheered the good woman.

'Was the pheasant good, mum?' she asked in a whisper.

'Capital, Barker, and the honey. And papa made a very good supper. And
I am so thankful, Barker! for the house is very nice, and we are moved.'

CHAPTER XXXIII.

_BETTY_.

It was summer again, and on the broad grassy street of Seaforth the
sunshine poured in its full power. The place lay silent under the heat
of mid-day; not a breath stirred the leaves of the big elms, and no
passing wheels stirred the dust of the roadway, which was ready to rise
at any provocation. It was very dry, and very hot. Yet at Seaforth
those two facts, though proclaimed from everybody's mouth, must be
understood with a qualification. The heat and the dryness were not as
elsewhere. So near the sea as the town was, a continual freshness came
from thence in vapours and coo