Ester Ried | Page 5

she is no better than Mrs. Brookley,
and she isn't. There's Ester; she's a member of the church."
"And do you see as she gets on any better with her religion, than you do
without it? For my part, I think you are considerably pleasanter to deal
with."
Sadie laughed. "We're no more alike than a bee and a butterfly, or any
other useless little thing," she said, brightly. "But you're very much
mistaken if you think I'm the best. Mother would lie down in despair
and die, and this house would come to naught at once, if it were not for
Ester."
Mr. Arnett shrugged his shoulders. "I always liked butterflies better
than bees," he said. "Bees sting."
"Harry," said Sadie, speaking more gravely, "I'm afraid you're almost
an infidel."

"If I'm not, I can tell you one thing--it's not the fault of Christians."
Mrs. Holland tossed her letters down to him from the piazza above, and
Mr. Arnett went away.
Florence Vane came over from the cottage across the way--came with
slow, feeble steps, and sat down in the door beside her friend. Presently
Ester came out to them:
"Sadie, can't you go to the office for me? I forgot to send this letter
with the rest."
"Yes," said Sadie. "That is if you think you can go that little bit,
Florence."
"I shall think for her," Dr. Van Anden said, coming down the stairs.
"Florence out here to-night, with the dew falling, and not even any
thing to protect your head. I am surprised!"
"Oh, Doctor, do let me enjoy this soft air for a few minutes."
"Positively, no. Either come in the house, or go home directly. You are
very imprudent. Miss Ester, I'll mail your letters for you."
"What does Dr. Van Anden want to act like a simpleton about Florence
Vane for?" Ester asked this question late in the evening, when the
sisters were alone in their room.
Sadie paused in her merry chatter. "Why, Ester, what do you mean?
About her being out to-night? Why, you know, she ought to be very
careful; and I'm afraid she isn't. The doctor told her father this morning
he was afraid she would not live through the season, unless she was
more careful."
"Fudge!" said Ester. "He thinks he is a wise man; he wants to make her
out very sick, so that he may have the honor of helping her. I don't see
as she looks any worse than she did a year ago."
Sadie turned slowly around toward her sister. "Ester, I don't know what

is the matter with you to-night. You know that Florence Vane has the
consumption, and you know that she is my dear friend."
Ester did not know what was the matter with herself, save that this had
been the hardest day, from first to last, that she had ever known, and
she was rasped until there was no good feeling left in her heart to touch.
Little Minnie had given her the last hardening touch of the day, by
exclaiming, as she was being hugged and kissed with eager, passionate
kisses:
"Oh, Auntie Essie! You've cried tears on my white apron, and put out
all the starch."
Ester set her down hastily, and went away.
Certainly Ester was cross and miserable. Dr. Van Anden was one of her
thorns. He crossed her path quite often, either with close, searching
words about self-control, or grave silence. She disliked him.
Sadie, as from her pillow she watched her sister in the moonlight kneel
down hastily, and knew that she was repeating a few words of prayer,
thought of Mr. Arnett's words spoken that evening, and, with her heart
throbbing still under the sharp tones concerning Florence, sighed a little,
and said within herself:
"I should not wonder if Harry were right." And Ester was so much
asleep, that she did not know, at least did not realize, that she had
dishonored her Master all that day.
CHAPTER III.
FLORENCE VANE.
Of the same opinion concerning Florence was Ester, a few weeks later,
when, one evening as she was hurrying past him, Dr. Van Anden
detained her:
"I want to see you a moment, Miss Ester."

During these weeks Ester had been roused. Sadie was sick; had been
sick enough to awaken many anxious fears; sick enough for Ester to
discover what a desolate house theirs would have been, supposing her
merry music had been hushed forever. She discovered, too, how very
much she loved her bright young sister.
She had been very kind and attentive; but the fever was gone now, and
Sadie was well enough to rove around the house again; and Ester began
to think that it couldn't be so very hard to have loving hands
ministering to one's simplest want, to