"He has arranged to marry Mrs. Blumenfeld, the woman who keeps the market garden over here. He does not mean to leave us, papa; the places are so near, you know. He thinks, I believe, he can manage both."
"He is a fool!"
"Barker is very angry with him. But that does not help anything."
"He is an a.s.s!" repeated the colonel hotly. "Well, that settles one question."
"What question, papa?
"We have done with Christopher. I want no half service. I suppose he thinks he will make more money; and I am quite willing he should try."
Esther could see that her father was much more seriously annoyed than he chose to show; his tone indicated a very unusual amount of disturbance. He turned from the table and took up his book.
"But, papa, how can we do without Christopher?"
There was no answer to this.
"I suppose he really has a great deal of time to spare; our garden ground is so little, you know. He does not mean to leave us at all."
"_I_ mean he shall!"
Esther sat silent and pondered. There were other things she wished to speak about; was not this a good occasion? But she hesitated long how to be gin. The colonel was not very deep in his book, she could see; he was too much annoyed.
"Papa," she said slowly after a while, "are our circ.u.mstances any better than they were?"
"Circ.u.mstances? what do you mean?"
"Money, papa; have we any more money than we had when we talked about it last fall?"
"Where is it to come from?" said the colonel in the same short, dry fashion. It was the fashion in which he was wont to treat unwelcome subjects, and always drove Esther away from a theme, unless it were too pressing to be avoided.
"Papa, you know I do not know where any of our money comes from, except the interest on the price of the sale at Seaforth."
"I do not know where any _more_ is to come from."
"Then, papa, don"t you think it would be good to let my schooling stop here?"
"No."
"Papa, I want to make a very serious proposition to you. Do not laugh at me" (the colonel looked like anything but laughing), "but listen to me patiently. You know we _cannot_ go on permanently as we have done this year, paying out more than we took in?"
"That is my affair."
"But it is for my sake, papa, and so it comes home to me. Now this is my proposal. I have really had schooling enough. Let me give lessons."
"Let you do _what?_"
"Lessons, papa; let me give lessons. I have not spoken to Miss Fairbairn, but I am almost sure she would be glad of me; one of her teachers is going away. I could give lessons in Latin and French and English and drawing, and still have time to study; and I think it would make up perhaps all the deficiency in our income."
The colonel looked at her. "You have not spoken of this scheme to anybody else?"
"No, sir; of course not."
"Then, do not speak of it."
"You do not approve of it, papa?"
"No. My purpose in giving you an education was not that you might be a governess."
"But, papa, it would not hurt me to be a governess for a while; it would do me no sort of hurt; and it would help our finances. There is another thing I could teach--mathematics."
"I have settled that question," said the colonel, going back to his book.
"Papa," said the girl after a pause, "may I give lessons enough to pay for the lessons that are given me?"
"No."
"But, papa, it troubles me very much, the thought that we are living beyond our means; and on my account." And Esther now looked troubled.
"Leave all that to me."
Well, it was all very well to say, "Leave that to me;" but Esther had a strong impression that matters of this sort, so left, would not meet very thorough attention. There was an interval here of some length, during which she was pondering and trying to get up her courage to go on.
"Papa,"--she broke the silence doubtfully,--"I do not want to disturb you, but I must speak a little more. Perhaps you can explain; I want to understand things better. Papa, do you know Barker has still less money now to do the marketing with than she had last year?"
"Well, what do you want explained?" The tone was dry and not encouraging.
"Papa, she cannot get the things you want."
"Do I complain?"
"No, sir, certainly; but--is this necessary?"
"Is what necessary?"
"Papa, she tells me she cannot get you the fruit you ought to have; you are stinted in strawberries, and she has not money to buy raspberries."
"Call Barker."
The call was not necessary, for the housekeeper at this moment appeared to take away the tea-things.
"Mrs. Barker," said the colonel, "you will understand that I do not wish any fruit purchased for my table. Not until further orders."
The housekeeper glanced at Esther, and answered with her decorous, "Certainly, sir;" and with that, for the time, the discussion was ended.
CHAPTER XXIX.