Esther was firm after a curious fashion. She never ordered, but her attitude was in itself equivalent to a whole broadside of orders. She never raised her voice, she often did not express a wish, but her silence held the force of ultimate command. Her aged father, retaining, as he still did in very high measure, the fire of youth, was no match for her. His rebellious desires, his impatience for his own way, were blunted before her as before a porcelain wall of purest, impenetrable femininity.