“Dear, if a large sum of money, beyond what my father owes you, can remove or even soothe your grief I can be your doctor, and you ought to know that your accepting my treatment would make me happy.”
I took her hands and kissed them affectionately, saying,—
“No, dear Esther, generous Esther, it is not money I want, for if I did I would ask you and your father as a friend: what I want, and what no one can give me, is a resolute mind, and determination to act for the best.”
“Ask advice of your oracle.”
I could not help laughing.
“Why do you laugh?” said she, “if I am not mistaken, the oracle must know a remedy for your woes.”
“I laughed, dearest, because I felt inclined to tell you to consult the oracle this time. As for me I will have nothing to do with it, lest the cure be worse than the disease.”
“But you need not follow your advice unless you like it.”
“No, one is free to act as one thinks fit; but not to follow the advice of the oracle would be a contempt of the intelligence which directs it.”
Esther could say no more, and stood silent for several minutes, and then said that if I like she would stay with me for the rest of the day. The joy which illumined my countenance was manifest, and I said that if she would stay to dinner I would get up, and no doubt her presence would give me an appetite. “Ah!” said she, “I will make you the dish you are so fond of.” She ordered the sedan-chairs to be sent back, and went to my landlady to order an appetising repast, and to procure the chafing-dish and the spirits of wine she required for her own cooking.