Nellie was silent a minute. “I wish he looked older,” she said; “thirty is the proper age for a man, I think. And I’d rather he had a long, fair moustache; his eyes are not bad; but I wish he wouldn’t rumple his hair up straight when he gets excited.”
Esther smiled indulgently at Nellie’s idea of a hero.
“As long as he makes her happy,” she said, “I’ll forgive him for being clean-shaved. Why are you looking at me like that, Nell?”
“I was thinking how very pretty you are yet, Esther,” was the girl’s answer, spoken thoughtfully. Esther’s beauty did strike her on occasion, and to-night, with the dark, bright face and rich, crinkly hair in relief against the cushions, it was especially noticeable.
“Yet,” repeated Esther, “I’m not very old, Nell, am I? Twenty-five is not very old.” Her eyes looked wistfully at the very young lovely face of her second step-daughter.
“Oh no, dear—oh no, Esther,” said Nell, quick [92] ]to notice the wistfulness; “why, of course it is very young; only—oh, Essie!”
“What?” said Esther in surprise.
“How could you marry father?” She crept up closer, and put her shining head down beside the dark one. “Of course I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but really he is so very middle-aged and ordinary; were you really in love, Essie?”
But Esther was spared the embarrassing answer by the entrance of the Captain and Alan.
You all saw Alan last five years ago, when he used to go on the river boat every morning to his lectures at the university. His face is even more earnest and grave than before; life is a serious business to this young doctor, and the only relaxations he allows himself are football and Meg.