'By next summer she will be--well, I don't know how old, but quite old enough to take the fancy of a boy like Pitt.' 'I know Pitt's age. He will be twenty-two. Old enough to know better. He isn't such a fool.' 'Such a fool as what?' asked Mrs. Dallas sharply. 'That girl is going to be handsome enough to take any man's fancy, and hold it too. She is uncommonly striking. Don't you see it?' 'Humph! yes, I see it.' 'Hildebrand, I do not want him to marry the daughter of a dissenting colonel, with not money enough to dress her.' 'I do not mean he shall.' 'Then think how you are going to prevent it. Next summer, I warn you, it may be too late.' In consequence, perhaps, of this conversation, though it is by no means certain that Mr. Dallas needed its suggestions, he strolled over after tea to Colonel Gainsborough's. The colonel was in his usual place and position; Esther sitting at the table with her books. Mr. Dallas eyed her as she rose to receive him, noticed the gracious, quiet manner, the fair and noble face, the easy movement and fine bearing; and turned to her father with a strengthened purpose to do what he had come to do. He had to wait a while. He told the news of Pitt's last letter; intimated that he meant to keep him in England till his studies were all ended; and then went into a discussion of politics, deep and dry. When Esther at last left the room, he made a sudden break in the discussion. 'Colonel, what are you going to do with that girl of yours?' 'What am I going to do with her?' repeated the colonel, a little drily. 'Yes. Forgive me; I have known her all her life, you know, nearly. I am concerned about Esther.' 'In what way?' 'Well, don't take it ill of me; but I do not like to see her growing up so without any advantages. She is such a beautiful creature.' Colonel Gainsborough was silent. 'I take the interest of a friend,' Mr. Dallas went on. 'I have a right to so much. I have watched her growing up. She will be something uncommon, you know. She ought really to have everything that can help to make humanity perfect.' 'What would you have me do?' the colonel asked, half conscious and half impatient. 'I would give her all the advantages that a girl of her birth and breeding would have in the old country.' 'How is that possible, at Seaforth?' 'It is not possible at Seaforth. There is nothing here. But elsewhere it is possible.' 'I shall never leave Seaforth,' said the colonel doggedly. 'But for Esther's sake? Why, she ought to be at school now, colonel.' 'I shall never quit Seaforth,' the other repeated. 'I do not expect to live long anywhere; when I die, I will lie by my wife's side, here.' 'You are not failing in health,' Mr. Dallas persisted. 'You are improving, colonel; every time I come to see you I am convinced of it. We shall have you a long while among us yet; you may depend on it.' 'I have no particular reason to wish you may be right. And I see myself no signs that you are.'