A pile of letters occupied her, luckily, for a time--letters that were sad if soothing--all full of sympathy, tenderness, and sincere regret, profound esteem, and so forth, for the brave old man who was gone; even there was one from Annot, but none from Roland or Jack. Where were they? Far away, alas! where postal arrangements were vague and most uncertain. We have said that Hester had the world to face. Her father's pay and pension died with him, and suddenly the girl was all but penniless. Her father had been unable to put away any money for her. People thought he might and ought to have managed better; but so it was. Sir Henry's Indian relics, his treasured household gods, such as the tulwar of the Amazonian Ranee of Jhansi, who fought and died as a trooper when Tantia Topee strove to save the lost cause, all of which had to Hester a halo of love and superstition of the heart about them, were brought to the auctioneer's hammer inexorably, and with the money realised therefrom she thought to look about for some such situation or employment as might become one in her unfortunate position. As the relics went, her conscience smote her now, for the recollection of how often she had grown weary over the oft repeated Indian reminiscences of the poor old man, who lived in the past quite as much, if not more, than in the present. What would she not give to hear his voice once again! And she remembered now how fond he was of quoting the words of 'The Ancient Brahmin': 'Happy is he who endeth the business of his life before his death.... Avoid not death, for it is a weakness; fear it not, for thou understandest not what it is; all thou certainly knowest is, that it putteth an end to thy sorrows. Think not the longest life the happiest; that which is best employed doth the man most honour, and himself shall rejoice after death in the advantages of it.' Like other girls who are imaginative and impressionable, she had built her _châteaux en Espagne_, innocent edifices enough, and romantic too, but now they had crumbled away, leaving not one stone upon another. Her future seemed fixed irrevocably; no idle dreams could be there, but a life that would, too probably, be blank and dreary even unto the end. We cannot be in the world and grieve at all times; but yet one may feel a sorrow for ever. 'I shall go and earn my living, Maude--be a governess, or something,' she said, as her plans began to mature. 'It cannot be difficult to teach little children; though I always hated my own lessons, I know, even when helped by--Roland.' 'Nonsense, Hester!' exclaimed Maude; 'you shall live with me and--and Jack, if he ever returns, and all is well. You are too pretty to be a governess; no wise matron would have you.' 'Why?' 'Because all the grown sons and brothers would be falling in love with you. So you must stay with me.' But Hester was resolute.