Oswald Langdon | Page 5

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 against the pitiless avarice of the faithless rich. This or that conception of the redemptive economy, or concerning the personnel of its central figure, may be tolerated, but there can be no hopeful sign for him who actively or passively oppresses God's 'little ones.'
"A story has been told of One whose weary, homeless head, often envied hole of fox and nest of bird; 'despised and rejected,' yet making autocratic claims to kingly prerogatives over an empire more limitless than that of C?sar