All this, more or less, young Dallas came to discern and understand in the course of his associations with the father and daughter. And now it was with a little pardonable pride and a good deal of growing tenderness for the child, that he saw the change going on in Esther. She was always, now as before, quiet as a mouse in her father's presence; truly she was quiet as a mouse everywhere; but under the outward quiet Dallas could see now the impulse and throb of the strong and sensitive life within; the stir of interest and purpose and hope; the waking up of the whole nature; and he saw that it was a nature of great power and beauty. It was no wonder that the face through which this nature shone was one of rare power and beauty too. Others could see that, besides him.
'What a handsome little girl that is!' remarked the elder Dallas one evening. Esther had just left the house, and his son come into the room.
'It seems to me she is here a great deal,' Mrs. Dallas said, after a pause. The remark about Esther's good looks called forth no response. 'I see her coming and going pretty nearly every day.'
'I don't know; not necessarily,' said young Dallas. 'The classics are rather cool--and Numismatics refreshing and composing.'
'Numismatics! You are not teaching that child Numismatics, I suppose?'
Mrs. Dallas was silent now, with a dissatisfied expression. Her husband repeated his former remark.
'She's a handsome little maid. Are you teaching her, Pitt?'
'Teaching her to support existence. It about comes to that.'
'I do not understand you, I confess. You are oracular.'
'I did not understand _her_, until lately. It is what nobody else does, by the way.'
'Why should not anybody else understand her?' Mrs. Dallas asked.
'Should,--but they do not. That's a common case, you know, mother.'
'She has her father; what's the matter with him?'
'He thinks a good deal is the matter with him.'
'Regularly hipped,' said the elder Dallas. 'He has never held up his head since his wife died. He fancies he is going after her as fast as he can go. Perhaps he is; such fancies are often fatal.'
'It would do him good to look after his child,' Mrs. Dallas said.
'I wish you would put that in his head, mother.'
'In a sort of way. He knows where she is and where she goes; he has a sort of outward care of her, and so far it is very particular care; but there it stops.'