She found Esther fluttering up and down her room like a newly-caught
bird. "Oh, Aunt Carey, I must go home! Please let me!" she said.
"Nay, my dear, can't I help you for once?" and Esther sprang into her
arms for comfort; but even then it was plain to a motherly eye that
this was not the distress that poor Bobus had caused, but rather the
agitation of a newly-awakened heart, terrified at its own sensations.
"He wants you to come and hear him out," she said, when she had
kissed and petted the girl into more composure.
"Oh, must I? I don't want. Oh, if I could go home! They were so
angry before. And I only said 'if,' and never meant—-"
"That was the very thing, my dear," said her aunt with a great throb
of pain. "You were quite right not to encourage my poor Bobus; but
this is a very different case, and I am sure they would wish you to
act according as you feel."
Esther drew a great gasp; "You are sure they would not think me
wrong?"
"Quite sure," was the reply, in full security that her mother would
be rapturous at the nearly certain prospect of a coronet. "Indeed,
my dear, no one can find any fault with you. You need not be afraid.
He is good and worthy, and they will be glad if you wish it."
Wish was far too strong a word for poor frightened Esther; she could
only cling and quiver.
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