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thrown on her hat； and was ready； while he was still studying
the result in a mirror： the carbuncle had somewhat painfully
arrested his attention。
'We are papa now； we must be respectable；' he said to Dick；
in explanation of his dandyism： and then he went to a bundle
and chose himself a staff。 Where were the elegant canes of
his Parisian epoch？ This was a support for age； and designed
for rustic scenes。 Dick began to see and appreciate the
man's enjoyment in a new part； when he saw how carefully he
had 'made it up。' He had invented a gait for this first
country stroll with his daughter； which was admirably in key。
He walked with fatigue； he leaned upon the staff； he looked
round him with a sad； smiling sympathy on all that he beheld；
he even asked the name of a plant； and rallied himself gently
for an old town bird； ignorant of nature。 'This country life
will make me young again；' he sighed。 They reached the top
of the hill towards the first hour of evening； the sun was
descending heaven； the colour had all drawn into the west；
the hills were modelled in their least contour by the soft；
slanting shine； and the wide moorlands； veined with glens and
hazelwoods； ran west and north in a hazy glory of light。
Then the painter wakened in Van Tromp。
'Gad； Dick；' he cried； 'what value！'
An ode in four hundred lines would not have seemed so
touching to Esther； her eyes filled with happy tears； yes；
here was the father of whom she had dreamed； whom Dick had
described； simple； enthusiastic； unworldly； kind； a painter
at heart； and a fine gentleman in manner。
And just then the Admiral perceived a house by the wayside；
and something depending over the house door which might be
construed as a sign by the hopeful and thirsty。
'Is that；' he asked； pointing with his stick； 'an inn？'
There was a marked change in his voice； as though he attached
importance to the inquiry： Esther listened； hoping she should
hear wit or wisdom。
Dick said it was。
'You know it？' inquired the Admiral。
'I have passed it a hundred times； but that is all；' replied
Dick。
'Ah；' said Van Tromp； with a smile； and shaking his head；
'you are not an old campaigner； you have the world to learn。
Now I； you see； find an inn so very near my own home； and my
first thought is my neighbours。 I shall go forward and make
my neighbours' acquaintance； no； you needn't come； I shall
not be a moment。'
And he walked off briskly towards the inn； leaving Dick alone
with Esther on the road。
'Dick；' she exclaimed； 'I am so glad to get a word with you；
I am so happy； I have such a thousand things to say； and I
want you to do me a favour。 Imagine； he has come without a
paint…box； without an easel； and I want him to have all。 I
want you to get them for me in Thymebury。 You saw； this
moment； how his heart turned to painting。 They can't live
without it；' she added； meaning perhaps Van Tromp and Michel
Angelo。
Up to that moment； she had observed nothing amiss in Dick's
behaviour。 She was too happy to be curious； and his silence；
in presence of the great and good being whom she called her
father； had seemed both natural and praiseworthy。 But now
that they were alone； she became conscious of a barrier
between her lover and herself； and alarm sprang up in her
heart。
'Dick；' she cried； 'you don't love me。'
'I do that；' he said heartily。
'But you are unhappy； you are strange； you … you are not glad
to see my father；' she concluded； with a break in her voice。
'Esther；' he said； 'I tell you that I love you； if you love
me； you know what that means； and that all I wish is to see
you happy。 Do you think I cannot enjoy your pleasures？
Esther； I do。 If I am uneasy； if I am alarmed； if … 。 Oh；
believe me； try and believe in me；' he cried； giving up
argument with perhaps a happy inspiration。
But the girl's suspicions were aroused； and though she
pressed the matter no farther （indeed； her father was already
seen returning）； it by no means left her thoughts。 At one
moment she simply resented the selfishness of a man who had
obtruded his dark looks and passionate language on her joy；
for there is nothing that a woman can less easily forgive
than the language of a passion which； even if only for the
moment； she does not share。 At another； she suspected him of
jealousy against her father； and for that； although she could
see excuses for it； she yet despised him。 And at least； in
one way or the other； here was the dangerous beginning of a
separation between two hearts。 Esther found herself at
variance with her sweetest friend； she could no longer look
into his heart and find it written with the same language as
her own； she could no longer think of him as the sun which
radiated happiness upon her life； for she had turned to him
once； and he had breathed upon her black and chilly； radiated
blackness and frost。 To put the whole matter in a word； she
was beginning； although ever so slightly； to fall out of
love。
CHAPTER VI … THE PRODIGAL FATHER GOES ON FROM STRENGTH TO
STRENGTH
WE will not follow all the steps of the Admiral's return and
installation； but hurry forward towards the catastrophe；
merely chronicling by the way a few salient incidents；
wherein we must rely entirely upon the evidence of Richard；
for Esther to this day has never opened her mouth upon this
trying passage of her life； and as for the Admiral … well；
that naval officer； although still alive； and now more
suitably installed in a seaport town where he has a telescope
and a flag in his front garden； is incapable of throwing the
slightest gleam of light upon the affair。 Often and often
has he remarked to the present writer： 'If I know what it was
all about； sir； I'll be … ' in short； be what I hope he will
not。 And then he will look across at his daughter's
portrait； a photograph； shake his head with an amused
appearance； and mix himself another grog by way of
consolation。 Once I heard him go farther； and express his
feelings with regard to Esther in a single but eloquent word。
'A minx； sir；' he said； not in anger； rather in amusement：
and he cordially drank her health upon the back of it。 His
worst enemy must admit him to be a man without malice； he
never bore a grudge in his life； lacking the necessary taste
and industry of attention。
Yet it was during this obscure period that the drama was
really performed； and its scene was in the heart of Esther；
shut away from all eyes。 Had this warm； upright； sullen girl
been differently used by destiny； had events come upon her
even in a different succession； for some things lead easily
to others； the whole course of this tale would have been
changed； and Esther never would have run away。 As it was；
through a series of acts and words of which we know but few；
and a series of thoughts which any one may imagine for
himself； she was awakened in four days from the dream of a
life。
The first tangible cause of disenchantment was when Dick
brought home a painter's arsenal on Friday evening。 The
Admiral was in the chimney…corner； once more 'sirrupping'
some brandy and water； and Esther sat at the table at work。
They both came forward to greet the new arrival； and the
girl； relieving him of his monstrous burthen； proceeded to
display her offerings to her father。 Van Tromp's countenance
fell several degrees； he became quite querulous。
'God bless me；' he said； and then； 'I must really ask you not
to interfere； child；' in a tone of undisguised hostility。
'Father；' she said； 'forgive me； I knew you had given up your
art … '
'Oh yes！' cried the Admiral； 'I've done with it to the
judgment…day！'
'Pardon me again；' she said firmly； 'but I do not； I cannot
think that you are right in this。 Suppose the world is
unjust； suppose that no one understands you； you have still