her felt languid, weary and
listless. She could not sleep. A voice, a bar of music, the sight of any
thing unusual, affected her deeply. She could not get back to her
regular interests. First came the funeral with its inevitable depression
and fatigue; then came days of vacancy, with no appetite for work and no
chance for amusement. She took refuge in trifles, but the needle and
scissors are terrible weapons for cutting out and trimming not so much
women's dresses as their thoughts. She had never been a reader, and
perhaps for that reason her mind had all the more run into regions of
fancy and imagination. She caught half an idea in the air, and tossed it
for amusement. In these days of unrest she tossed her ideas more rapidly
than ever. Most women are more or less mystical by nature, and Esther
had a vein of mysticism running through a practical mind.

The only person outside her family whom she saw was Hazard. He was
either at the house or in some way near her almost every day. He took
charge of the funeral services, and came to make inquiries, to bring
messages, or to suggest an occupation, until he was looked upon as one
of the household. Once or twice, the week after the funeral, he came in
the evening, and asked for a cup of tea. Then Catherine sat by and dozed
while Esther talked mysticism with Hazard, who was himself a mystic of
the purest water. By this time Esther had learned to look on the
physical life, the daily repetition of breakfast and dinner, as the
unreal part of existence, and apologized to herself for conceding so
much to habit, or put it down to Catherine's account. Her illusions were
not serious; perhaps she had for this short instant a flash of truth,
and by the light of her father's deathbed, saw life as it is; but, while
the mood lasted, nothing seemed real except the imagination, and nothing
true but the spiritual. In this atmosphere Hazard was always happy, for
he reveled in the voluptuousness of poetry, and found peace in the soul
of a dandelion; but to share his subtlest fancies with a woman who could
understand and feel them, was to reach a height of poetry that trembled
on the verge of realizing heaven. His great eyes shone with the radiance
of paradise, and his delicate thin features expressed beatitude, as he
discussed with Esther the purity of the soul, the victory of spirit over
matter, and the peace of infinite love.

Of her regular occupations Esther kept up only such as were duties