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The cousins looked steadily at each other, and St. Elmo laughed bitterly, and patted Estelle's cheek, saying: "Bravo! 'Set a thief to catch a thief! I knew you would hit the nail on the head! But who the d l is this fellow who is writing to her from New York?
Fanshawe wanted was more manure. It seemed to Estelle that wherever she went she heard Sir Peter's resonant voice talking about manure. Lady Staines was much quieter; still she needn't have remarked to Estelle's mother, "Well I'm glad to see you have seven children, that looks promising at any rate." It made two unmarried ladies of uncertain age walk into a flower-bed. Winn behaved abominably.
He was cheerful and apparently welcomed Estelle's programme, but there happened that which threatened to interfere with it. Waldron had retired to his study and a new book on 'The Fox Terrier, which he reserved for Sabbath reading, and Estelle and Raymond were just setting out for Chilcombe when there came Sabina. She had called to see her lover and entered the garden in time to stop him.
In common with her father, Raymond was often struck by the fact that a child would consider subjects which had never entered his head; but so it was, since Estelle's mind had been wrought in a larger plan and compassed heights and depths, even in its present immaturity, to which neither Waldron's nor Raymond's had aspired. Yet the things she said were challenging, though often absurd.
Arthur grinned, then suddenly his face grew a little more serious. "I wish I were as sure as you are," he said. "I think we'll be all right, though, sooner or later." "I'm sure of it," Estelle declared with conviction. "Why, you " "Why I?" asked Arthur again. He bent forward in his chair and fixed his eyes on Estelle's. She looked up, met his gaze, and stammered.
"In a weird sort of way, a hobby is a man's substitute for sport, I believe," said Estelle's father. "Many have no feeling for sport; it's left out of them and they seem to be able to live comfortably without it. Instead they develop an instinct for something else. Generally it's deadly from the sportsman's point of view; but it seems to take the place of sport to the sportless.
Then came Willett's devotions to Archer's gentle little daughter, and the rage within his soul overmastered him. He would not he could not bear to tell of Estelle's shame. He dare not, he owned it, oppose himself man to man, physically, to Willett, but he burned with desire for revenge. Sanchez and his kind were willing tools. Ramon and Alvarez, they told him, were thirsting for Willett's blood.
He made the same absurd fuss about Estelle's comfort in the railway carriage; but it was one of the last occasions on which he did it, because he discovered almost immediately that however many things you could think of for Estelle's comfort, she could think of more for herself, and no matter how much care or attention was lavished upon her, it could never quite equal her unerring instinct for her own requirements.
Estelle's friend was talking about her piano, and how hard it was to get good servants nowadays, and say, Jim, I've heard knockers in my time, but Estelle is the original leader of the anvil chorus. She just put everybody in town on the pan and roasted them to a whisper. She could build the best battleship Dewey ever saw with her little hammer.
But Miss Estelle's got so she runs that hull house now, and the perfessor too, but he don't know it, Biddy says, and her a-saying every now and then it was too bad Frederick couldn't of married a noble woman who would of took a serious intrust in his work. The kids don't hardly dare to kiss their ma in front of Miss Estelle no more, on account of germs and things.
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