A Red Wallflower

'The question seems rather, why should you go on with it?'

'Put it so,' he said. 'Ask the question. Why should I go on with it?'

'I have asked the question,' said Esther, laughing. 'You seem to come to me for the answer.'

'I do. What is the answer? Give it, please. Is there any reason why a man who has money enough to live upon should go to the bar?'

'I can think of but one,' said Esther, grave and wondering now.

'Perhaps there is one reason.'

'And that?' said Pitt, without looking at her.

'I can think of but one,' Esther repeated. 'It is not a man's business view, I know, but it is mine. I can think of no reason why, for itself, a man should plunge himself into the strifes and confusions of the law, supposing that he need not, except for the one sake of righting the wrong and delivering the oppressed.'

'That is my view,' said Pitt quietly.

'And is that what you are going to do?' she said with smothered eagerness, and as well a smothered pang.

'I do not propose to be a lawyer merely,' he said, in the same quiet way, not looking at her. 'But I thought it would give me an advantage in the great business of righting the wrong and getting the oppressed go free. So I propose to finish my terms and be called to the bar.'

'Then you will live in England?' said Esther, with a most unaccountable feeling of depression at the thought.

'For the present, probably. Wherever I can do my work best.'

'Your work? That is – ?'

'Do you ask me?' said he, now looking at her with a very bright and sweet smile. The sweetness of it was so unlike the Pitt Dallas she used to know, that Esther was confounded. 'Do you ask me? What should be the work in life of one who was once a slave and is now Christ's freeman?'

Esther looked at him speechless.

'You remember,' he said, 'the Lord's word – "This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you." And then He immediately gave the gauge and measure of that love, the greatest possible, – "that a man lay down his life for his friends."'

'And you mean – ?'

'Only that, Queen Esther. I reckon that my life is the Lord's, and that the only use of it is to do His work. I will study law for that, and practise as I may have occasion; and for that I will use all the means He may give me: so far as I can, to "break every yoke, and let the oppressed go free;" to "heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils," so far as I may. Surely it is the least I can do for my Master.'

Pitt spoke quietly, gravely, with the light of a settled purpose in his eye, and also with the peace of a fixed joy in his face. Indeed, his face said more than his words, to Esther who knew him and it; she read there the truth of what he said, and that it was no phantasy of passing enthusiasm, but a lifelong choice, grave and glad, of which he was telling her. With a sudden movement she stretched out her hand to him, which he eagerly clasped, and their hands lay so in each other for a minute, without other speech than that of the close-held fingers. Esther's other hand, however, had covered her eyes.

'What is the matter, Queen Esther?' said Pitt, seeing this.

'I am so glad – so glad! – and so sorry!' Esther took down her hand; she was not crying. 'Glad for you, – and sorry that there are so very few who feel as you do. Oh, how very strange it is!'

He still held her other hand.

'Yes,' he said thoughtfully, 'it is strange. What do you think of the old word in the Bible, that it is not good for man to be alone?'

'I suppose it is true,' said Esther, withdrawing her hand. 'Now,' she thought, 'he is going to tell me about his bride and his marriage.' And she rather wished she could be spared that special communication. At the same time, the wondering speculation seized her again, whether Betty Frere, as she had seen her, was likely to prove a good helpmeet for this man.

'You suppose it is true? There can be no doubt about that, I think, for the man. How is it for the woman?'

'I have never studied the question,' said Esther. 'By what people say, the man is the more independent of the two when he is young, and the woman when she is old.'

'Neither ought to be independent of the other!'

'They seldom are,' said Esther, feeling inclined to laugh, although not in the least merry. Pitt was silent a few minutes, evidently revolving something in his mind.

'You said you had two rooms unoccupied,' he began at last. 'I want to be some little time in New York yet; will you let me move into them?'

'You!' exclaimed Esther.

'Yes,' he said, looking at her steadfastly. 'You do not want them, – and

I do.'

'I do not believe they would suit you, Pitt,' said Esther, consumed with secret wonder.

'I am sure no other could suit me half so well!'

'What do you think your bride would say to them? you know that must be taken into consideration.'

'My bride? I beg your pardon! Did I hear you aright?'

'Yes!' said Esther, opening her eyes a little. 'Your bride – your wife.

Isn't she here?'

'Who is she?'

'Who was she, do you mean? Or are you perhaps not married yet?'

'Most certainly not married! But may I beg you to go on? You were going to tell me who the lady is supposed to be?'

'Oh, I know,' said Esther, smiling, yet perplexed. 'I believe I have seen her. And I admire her too, Pitt, very much. Though when I saw her I do not think she would have agreed with the views you have been expressing to me.'

'Where did you see her?'

'Last fall. Oh, a year ago, almost; time enough for minds to change. It was at a party here.'

'And you saw – whom?'

'Miss Frere. Isn't she the lady?'

'Miss Frere!' exclaimed Pitt; and his colour changed a little. 'May I ask how this story about me has come to your ears, and been believed? as I see you have accepted it.'

'Why very straight,' said Esther, her own colour flushing now brightly. 'It was not difficult to believe. It was very natural; at least to me, who have seen the lady.'

'Miss Frere and I are very good friends,' said Pitt; 'which state of things, however, might not long survive our proposing to be anything more. But we never did propose to be anything more. What made you think it?'