Mr. Earle went on with his drawing, and Esther sat watching him, feeling soothed and comforted, she did not know why. Her thoughts went off on their own wonderings, and presently she said suddenly,—
"Mr. Earle, is it wrong to be afraid of things—I mean of things that don't hurt, like dark places and cellars?"
"It is not wrong, but it is often inconvenient."
"You don't mind them, I suppose?"
"Not now. I used to be afraid of the dark once when I was a little boy."
"How did you cure yourself?"
"My mother asked me to try and get over it. So she taught me to say my prayers first, and then walk over the dark part of the house every night alone. I used to make believe that an angel came with me. After that I soon stopped being afraid."
Esther sat very still for a little while, a light coming slowly into her face.
"Do you think the angel was there really, Mr. Earle?"
"I should not be very much surprised," he answered gravely, and they sat in silence till the rest came back.