ut her rather at
such a distance, that all Pitt's newly aroused feelings were stimulated
to the utmost, both by the charm and by the difficulty. How exquisite
was this soft dignity and calm! but to the man who was longing to be
permitted to clasp his arms round her it was somewhat aggravating.

'What has become of Christopher?' he asked after a pause.

'Oh, Christopher is happy!' said Esther, with a smile that was only too
frank and free. Pitt wished she would have shown a little embarrassment
or consciousness. 'Christopher is happy. He has become a householder
and a market-gardener, and, above all, a married man. Married a
market-gardener's widow, and set up for himself.'

'What do you do without him?'

'Oh, we could not afford him now,' said Esther, with another smile. 'It
was very good for us, almost as good for us as for him. Christopher has
become a man of substance. We hire this house of him, or rather of his
wife.'

'Are the two not one, then?'

Esther laughed. 'Yes,' she said; 'but you know, _which_ one it is
depends on circumstances.'

And she went on to tell about her first meeting with the present Mrs.
Bounder, and of all the subsequent intercourse and long chain of
kindnesses, to which Pitt listened eagerly though with a some what
distracted mind. At the end of her story Esther rose.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

_A SETTLEMENT_.

'Will you excuse me, if I leave you for one moment to go down into the
kitchen?'

'What for,' said Pitt, stopping her.

'I want to see if Mrs. Barker has anything in the house for lunch.'

'Sit down again. She certainly will. She always does.'

'But I want to let her know that there will be one more at table
to-day.'

'Never mind. If the supplies fall short, I will go out and get some
oysters. I know the colonel likes oysters. Sit still, and let us talk
while we can.'

Esther sat down, a little wondering, for Pitt was evidently in earnest;
too much in earnest to be denied. But when she had sat down he did not
begin to talk. He was thinking; and words were not ready. It was Esther
who spoke first.

'And you, Pitt? what are you going to do?'

It was the first time she had called him by his name in the old
fashion. He acknowledged it with a pleased glance.

'Don't you know all about me?' he said.

'I know nothing, but what you have told me. And hearsay,' added Esther,
colouring a little.

'Did your father not tell you?'

'Papa told me nothing.' And therewith