'You must know whom I mean; the colonel's daughter.'
'The colonel is sufficient for that, I should say.'
'But you know what sort of a man he is. And she has no mother, nor anybody else, except servants.'
'Isn't he fond of her?'
'Very fond; but then he isn't well, and he is a reserved, silent man; the child is left to herself in a way that is bad for her.'
'What do you suppose I can do?'
'A great deal; if you once knew her and got fond of her, mother.'
Mrs. Dallas made no promise; however, she did go to see Esther. It was about a week after Pitt's departure. She found father and daughter very much as her son had found them the day he was introduced to the box of coins. Esther was on the floor, beside the same box, and the colonel was on his sofa. Mrs. Dallas did take the effect of the picture for that moment before the colonel sprang up to receive her. Then she had to do with a somewhat formal but courtly host, and the picture was lost. The lady sat there, stately in her silks and laces, carrying on a stiff conversation; for she and Colonel Gainsborough had few points of sympathy or mutual understanding; and for a while she forgot Esther. Then her eye again fell upon the child in her corner, sitting by her box with a sad, uninterested air.
'And how is Esther?' she said, turning herself a little towards that end of the room. 'Really I came to see Esther, colonel. How does she do?'
'She is much obliged to you, and quite well, madam, I believe.'