Oswald Langdon | Page 5

in
the other an interesting enigma.
Wonderfully fascinated by this girl of twenty, Oswald spends a
delightful evening. So absorbed is he, that bodily pain and Sir Donald
are in abeyance. This fine specimen of mature, aristo-* *cratic
manhood now is interesting only as father of a unique daughter.
While pleased at Oswald's manly refinement and evident interest, the
girl feels no warmer thrill.
Esther's education had progressed under her father's care. Competent
teachers of high character were employed for so important work. The
mental culture, social training, and refined accomplishments of Esther
Randolph to such a father were matters of import. Nor were the subtle
interwoven relations of the intellectual and ethical with bodily
conditions, disregarded. She learned much by study wisely directed;
became proficient in the languages, vocal and instrumental music;
absorbed valuable general information from frequent talks with her
father; read with discrimination some of the best works of poetry,
romance, and literature; was familiar with the amenities of polite
society; yet this girl of twenty seemed totally unconscious of her rare
accomplishments, or bewitching perfections of face and form.
When she first met Oswald Langdon, Esther had not felt any symptoms
of the tender sentiment. Was not this handsome, refined, enthusiastic,
cultured young fellow, so strangely placed in her path, almost an ideal
of manly perfection?
In Oswald's life there had been little social sentiment. The formal
courtesies of polite society were hollow and tiresome. Though thought
by friends and acquaintances to be a young man of strong mind,
fascinating, magnetic manners, and high aspirations, with a brilliant
prospective career, he seemed careless of that dubious prestige whose

uncertain tenure is subject to the whims of the alleged "select."
Oswald had met many well-connected, eligible young ladies. Their
manners had been kindly gracious. Most courteously and with
instinctive chivalry he had responded, but never felt any lasting interest.
Now, providentially, he has met Esther Randolph. Oswald Langdon
and providence cannot fail.
Sir Donald listened with pleasure to the animated talk of Esther and
Oswald.
Though fascinated with the girl, Oswald's manner toward the father
was respectfully considerate. Sir Donald was his kind benefactor, and
had a most charming daughter. Oswald Langdon had too much
self-respect--and tact--to ignore Sir Donald Randolph.
At ten o'clock the family and guest retired, the father to indulge his
soul's long habit of speculative conjecture, the daughter to sleep,
Oswald to think of Esther.
The stay of Oswald at Northfield was prolonged for a period of six
weeks. For nearly half of this time he was detained by his injuries and
the advice of the physician. Fearing hemorrhages as a result of the
injuries to his breast, Oswald finally had consented to receive medical
attendance.
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.
This conscientious leaning was toward practical charity. At London,
during her recent visit, Esther had listened to eloquent, stirring appeals
from a brilliant pulpit orator, upon the subjects of charity and sacrifice.
Prominence was given to local endeavor in behalf of the helpless poor.
"Such are," said he, "exalted objects of divine solicitude. Hopeless
looks and dwarfish lives are fearful protests