'So I thought. What is the matter with the tea, papa—the tea she makes?'
'I don't know, my dear, what the matter is. It is without fragrance, and without sprightliness, and generally about half as hot as it ought to be.'
'No good toast and no good tea! Papa, I am afraid you have missed me very much at meal times?'
'I have missed you at all times—more than I thought possible. But it cannot be helped.'
'Papa,' said Esther, suddenly very serious, 'can it not be helped?'
'No, my dear. How should it?'
'I might stay at home.'
'We have come here that you might go to school.'
'But if it is to your hurt, papa'—
'Not the question, my dear. About me it is of no consequence. The matter in hand is, that you should grow up to be a perfect woman—perfect as your mother was; that would have been her wish, and it is mine. To that all other things must give way. I wish you to have every information and every accomplishment that it is possible for you in this country to acquire.'