Enjoying the society of this interesting invalid, Sir Donald and Esther had assured him that he was welcome to the extended hospitality of Northfield.
There were many delightful talks upon all sorts of subjects, profound and otherwise. Esther often played, with exquisite skill, selections from musical masters. At his request she sang songs of grand, refined sentiment and of most entrancing melody.
Oswald was not at ease. Though Esther promptly responded to his invitations to sing and play, even anticipating his wishes in selections, seeming perfectly happy in his presence, Oswald saw that this grand girl had thoughts and purposes in which he had no part.
The form of this barrier was shadowy, but real.
To some natures, vague, dim outlines of shapes are more potent than those of an heroic mold.
There was in Oswald's high-strung, impulsive being, not tense, imperious energy alone, but that craft which in emergency could plan and wait.
But how mass the forces of a masterful spirit against an evasive square?
Though perplexed by this intangible obstacle to his purposes, Oswald continued, by varying tactics, his subtle bombardment, still floundering in the mazes of the siege.
While impressed with her father's liberal views regarding the infinite wideness of divine compassion toward human frailty, Esther had a most exacting sense of personal obligation to a higher power.
It never occurred to this generous, conscientious girl that her moral delinquencies should tax the healing properties or sensitive texture of the "seamless robe." Her conscience was peculiarly responsive to all religious appeals wherein duty was imperative, and her sentiments were so generous toward human want, that the natural effect of such ethical experiences would be a life of self-sacrifice in some line of charitable service.