COLLECTION

OF

BRITISH AUTHORS

VOL. CCCLI. 

THE HILLS OF THE SHATEMUC

BY

ELIZABETH WETHERELL. 

IN TWO VOLUMES. 

VOL. I. 

THE

HILLS OF THE SHATEMUC

BY

ELIZABETH WETHERELL, AUTHOR OF "THE WIDE WIDE WORLD. "

A wise man is strong. Proverbs xxiv. 5. 

_AUTHOR'S EDITION_. 

IN TWO VOLUMES. 

VOL. I. 

LEIPZIG

BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ

1856. 

THE HILLS OF THE SHATELUC. 

VOL. I. 

CHAPTER I. 

Low stirrings in the leaves, before the windWakes all the green strings of the forest lyre. LOWELL. 

The light of an early Spring morning, shining fair on uplandand lowland, promised a good day for the farmer's work. Andwhere a film of thin smoke stole up over the tree-tops, intothe sunshine which had not yet got so low, there stood thefarmer's house. 

It was a little brown house, built surely when its owner'smeans were not greater than his wishes, and probably some timebefore his family had reached the goodly growth it boastednow. All of them were gathered at the breakfast-table. 

"Boys, you may take the oxen, and finish ploughing that uplandfield -- I shall be busy all day sowing wheat in the bendmeadow. "

"Then I'll bring the boat for you, papa, at noon, " said achild on the other side of the table. 

"And see if you can keep those headlands as clean as I haveleft them. "

"Yes, sir. Shall you want the horses, father, or shall we takeboth the oxen?"

"Both? -- both _pairs_, you mean -- yes; I shall want the horses. I mean to make a finish of that wheat lot. "

"Mamma, you must send us our dinner, " said a fourth speaker, and the eldest of the boys; -- "it'll be too confoundedly hotto come home. "

"Yes, it's going to be a warm day, " said the father. 

"Who's to bring it to you, Will?" said the mother. 

"Asahel -- can't he -- when he brings the boat for papa?"

"The boat won't go to the top of the hill, " said Asahel; "andit's as hot for me as for other folks, I guess. "

"You take the young oxen, Winthrop, " said the farmer, pushingback his chair from the table. 

"Why, sir?" said the eldest son promptly. 

"I want to give you the best, " answered his father, with atouch of comicality about the lines of his face. 

"Are you afraid I shall work them too hard?"

"That's just what I'm afraid they'd do for you. "

He went out; and his son attended to his breakfast in silence, with a raised eyebrow and a curved lip. 

"What do you want, Winthrop?" the mother presently called toher second son, who had disappeared, and was rummagingsomewhere behind the scenes. 

"Only a basket, mamma, " -- came from the pantry. 

His mother got up from table, and basket in hand followed him, to where he was busy with a big knife in the midst of herstores. Slices of bread were in course of buttering, and layin ominous number piled up on the yellow shelf. Hard by stooda bowl of cold boiled potatoes. He was at work with dexterityas neat-handed and as quick as a woman's. 

"There's no pork there, Governor, " his mother whispered as hestooped to the cupboard, -- "your father made an end of thatlast night; -- but see -- here --"

And from another quarter she brought out a pie. Being made ofdried apples, it was not too juicy to cut; and being cut intohuge pieces they were stowed into the basket, lapping overeach other, till little room was left; and cheese andgingerbread went in to fill that. And then as her handspressed the lid down and his hands took the basket, the eyesmet, and a quick little smile of great brilliancy, thatentirely broke up the former calm lines of his face, answeredher; for he said nothing. And the mother's "Now go!" -- wasspoken as if she had enough of him left at home to keep herheart warm for the rest of the day. 

The two ploughmen set forth with their teams. Or ploughboysrather; for the younger of them as yet had seen not sixteenyears. His brother must have been several in advance of him. 

The farmhouse was placed on a little woody and rockypromontory jutting out into a broad river from the east shore. Above it, on the higher grounds of the shore, the main body ofthe farm lay, where a rich tableland sloped back to a mountainousridge that framed it in, about half a mile from the water. Cultivation had stretched its hands near to the top of thisridge and driven back the old forest, that yet stood andlooked over from the other side. One or two fields were butnewly cleared, as the black stumps witnessed. Many anothertold of good farming, and of a substantial reward for thefarmer; at what cost obtained they did not tell. 

Towards one of these upland fields, half made ready for a cropof spring grain, the boys took their way. On first leaving thehouse, the road led gently along round the edge of a littlebay, of which the promontory formed the northern horn. Justbefore reaching the head of the bay, where the road made asharp turn and began to ascend to the tableland, it passedwhat was called the _bend meadow_. 

It was a very lovely morning of early Spring, one of thosedays when nature seems to have hushed herself to watch thebuds she has set a swelling. Promising to be warm, though alittle freshness from the night still lingered in the air. Everywhere on the hills the soft colours of the young Spring-time were starting out, that delicate livery which is so soonworn. They were more soft to-day under a slight sultryhaziness of the atmosphere -- a luxurious veil that Spring hadcoyly thrown over her face; she was always a shy damsel. Itsoothed the light, it bewitched the distance, it lay upon thewater like a foil to its brightness, it lay upon the mind witha subtle charm winning it to rest and enjoy. It etherealizedEarth till it was no place to work in. But there went theoxen, and the ploughmen. 

The one as silently as the other; till the bay was left behindand they came to the point where the road began to go up tothe tableland. Just under the hill here was a spring ofdelicious water, always flowing; and filling a little walled-up basin. 

Will, or Will Rufus, as his father had long ago called him, had passed on and begun to mount the hill. Winthrop stoppedhis oxen till he should fill a large stone jug for the day. The jug had a narrow neck, and he was stooping at the edge ofthe basin, waiting for the water to flow in, when his head andshoulders made a sudden plunge and the jug and he soused intogether. Not for any want of steadiness in either of them;the cause of the plunge was a worthless fellow who was comingby at the moment. He had a house a little way off on the bay. He lived by fishing and farming alternately; and was often, and was then, employed by Mr. Landholm as an assistant in hiswork. He was on his way to the bend meadow, and passing closeby Winthrop at the spring, the opportunity was too good to beresisted; he tipped him over into the water. 

The boy soon scrambled out, and shaking himself like a greatwater-dog, and with about as much seeming concern, fixed acalm eye on his delighted enemy. 

"Well, Sam Doolittle, -- what good has that done anybody?"

"Ha'n't it done you none, Governor?"

"What do you think?"

"Well! I think you be a cool one -- and the easiest customerever _I_ see. "

"I've a mind it shall do somebody good; so see you don't givemy father any occasion to be out with you; for if you do, I'llgive him more. "

"Ay, ay, " said the man comfortably, "you won't tell on me. Hi!here's somebody!"

It was Rufus who suddenly joined the group, whip in hand, andlooking like a young Achilles in ploughman's coat andtrousers. Not Achilles' port could be more lordly; the veryfine bright hazel eye was on fire; the nostril spoke, and thelip quivered; though he looked only at his brother. 

"What's the matter, Winthrop?"

"I've been in the water, as you see, " said his brothercomposedly. "I want a change of clothes, rather. "

"How did you get into the water?"

"Why, head foremost -- which wasn't what I meant to do. "

"Sam, you put him in!"

"He, he! -- well, Mr. Rufus, maybe I helped him a leetle. "

"You scoundrel!" said Rufus, drawing the whip through hisfingers; "what did you do it for?"

"He, he! -- I didn't know but what it was you, Will. "

For all answer, the ox-whip was laid about Sam's legs, withthe zest of furious indignation; a fury there was no standingagainst. It is true, Rufus's frame was no match for thehardened one of Mr. Doolittle, though he might be four or fiveyears the elder of the two boys; but the spirit that was inhim cowed Sam, in part, and in part amused him. He made nooffer to return the blows; he stood, or rather jumped, as thewhip slung itself round his legs, crying out, "Lay it on, Will! -- Lay it on! Hi -- That's right -- Tuck it on, Will! --"

Till Will's arm was tired; and flinging away from them, in atowering passion still, he went up the hill after his oxen. Sam rubbed his legs. 

"I say, Governor, we're quits now, ben't we?" he said in asort of mock humble good-humour, as Winthrop was about tofollow his brother. 

"Yes, yes. Be off with yourself!"

"I wish it had ha' been 'tother one, anyhow, " muttered Sam. 

Not a word passed between the brothers about either theducking or the flagellation. They spoke not but to their oxen. Rufus's mouth was in the heroic style yet, all the way up thehill; and the lips of the other only moved once or twice tosmile. 

The day was sultry, as it had promised, and the uphill lay ofthe ground made the ploughing heavy, and frequent rests of theoxen were necessary. Little communication was held between theploughmen nevertheless; the day wore on, and each keptsteadily to his work and seemingly to his own thoughts. Thebeautiful scene below them, which they were alternately facingand turning their backs upon, was too well known even to delaytheir attention; and for the greater part of the day probablyneither of them saw much beyond his plough and his furrow. 

They were at work on a very elevated point of view, from whichthe channel of the river and the high grounds on the otherside were excellently seen. Valley there was hardly any; theup-springing walls of green started from the very border ofthe broad white stream which made its way between them. Theywere nowhere less than two hundred feet high; above that, moulded in all manner of heights and hollows; sometimesreaching up abruptly to twelve or fourteen hundred feet, andsometimes stretching away in long gorges and gentledeclivities, -- hills grouping behind hills. In Summer allthese were a mass of living green, that the eye could hardlyarrange; under Spring's delicate marshalling every little hilltook its own place, and the soft swells of ground stood backthe one from the other, in more and more tender colouring. Theeye leapt from ridge to ridge of beauty; not green now, but inthe very point of the bursting leaf, taking what hue itpleased the sun. It was a dainty day; and it grew more daintyas the day drew towards its close and the lights and shadowsstretched athwart the landscape again. The sun-touched linesand spots of the mountains now, in some places, were of abright orange, and the shadows between them deep neutral tintor blue. And the river, apparently, had stopped running toreflect. 

The oxen were taking one of their rests, in the latter part ofthe day, and Winthrop was sitting on the beam of his plough, when for the first time Rufus came and joined him. He satdown in silence and without so much as looking at his brother;and both in that warm and weary day sat a little while quietlylooking over the water; or perhaps at the little point ofrest, the little brown spot among the trees on the promontory, where home and mother and little baby sister, and the end ofthe day, and the heart's life, had their sole abiding-place. Apoor little shrine, to hold so much!

Winthrop's eyes were there, his brother's were on thedistance. When did such two ever sit together on the beam ofone plough, before or since! Perhaps the eldest might haveseen nineteen summers, but his face had nothing of the boy, beyond the fresh colour and fine hue of youth. The featureswere exceedingly noble, and even classically defined; the eyeas beautiful now in its grave thoughtfulness as it had been afew hours before in its fire. The mouth was never at rest; itwas twitching or curving at the corners now with the workingof some hidden cogitations. The frame of the younger brotherwas less developed; it promised to be more athletic than thatof the elder, with perhaps somewhat less grace of outline; andthe face was not so regularly handsome. A very cool and cleargrey eye aided the impression of strength; and the mouth, lessbeautifully moulded than that of Rufus, was also infinitelyless demonstrative. Rufus's mouth, in silence, was for eversaying something. Winthrop's for the most part kept its fineoutlines unbroken, though when they did give way it was tosingular effect. The contrast between the faces was striking, even now when both were in repose. 

The elder was the first to break silence, speaking slowly andwithout moving his eye from its bent. 

"Governor, -- what do you suppose lies behind those mountains?"

"What?" -- said Winthrop quickly. 

The other smiled. 

"Your slow understanding can make a quick leap now and then. "

"I can generally understand you, " said his brother quietly. 

Rufus added no more for a little, and Winthrop let him alone. 

"We've got the farm in pretty good order now, " he remarkedpresently in a considerate tone, folding his arms and lookingabout him. 

"Papa has, " observed Winthrop. "Yes -- if those stumps were outonce. We ought to have good crops this year, of most things. "

"I am sure I have spent four or five years of my life in hardwork upon it, " said the other. 

"Your life ain't much the worse of it, " said Winthrop, laughingly. 

Rufus did not answer the laugh. He looked off to the hillsagain, and his lips seemed to close in upon his thoughts. 

"Papa has spent more than that, " said the younger brothergravely. "How hard he has worked -- to make this farm!"

"Well, he has made it. "

"Yes, but he has paid a dozen years of _his_ life for it. Andmamma! --"

"It was a pretty tough subject to begin with, " said the elder, looking about him again. "But it's a nice farm now; -- it's thehandsomest farm in the county; -- it ought to pay considerablenow, after this. "

"It hasn't brought us in much so far, " observed Winthrop, "except just to keep along; -- and a pretty tight fit at that. "

"The house ought to be up here, " said Rufus, considering thelittle distant brown speck; -- "it would be worth twice asmuch. "

"What would?"

"Why! -- the farm!"

"The house wouldn't, " said Winthrop, -- "not to my notions. "

"It's confoundedly out of the way, down there, a mile off fromthe work. "

"Only a quarter of that, and a little better, " said Winthropcalmly. 

"A little worse! -- There's a great loss of time. There wouldbe twice as much work done if the house was up here. "

"_I_ couldn't stand it, " said Winthrop. "How came it the housewas put down there?"

"Papa bought the point first and built the house, before everhe pushed his acquirements so far as this. He would be wise, now, to let that, and build another up here somewhere. "

"It wouldn't pay, " said the younger brother; "and for one, I'mnot sorry. "

"If the farm was clear, " said the elder, "I'd stand the chanceof it's paying; it's that keeps us down. "

"What?"

"That debt. "

"What debt?"

"Why, the interest on the mortgage. "

"I don't know what you are talking of. "

"Why, " said Rufus a little impatiently, "don't you know thatwhen papa bought the property he couldn't pay off the wholeprice right down, and so he was obliged to leave the restowing, and give security. "

"What security?"

"Why, a mortgage on the farm, as I told you. "

"What do you mean by a mortgage?"

"Why, he gave a right over the farm -- a right to sell the farmat a certain time, if the debt was not paid and the interestupon it. "

"What is the debt?"

"Several thousands, I believe. "

"And how much does he have to pay upon that every year?"

"I don't know exactly -- one or two, two or three hundreddollars; and that keeps us down, you see, till the mortgage ispaid off. "

"I didn't know that. "

They sat silent a little time. Then Winthrop said, "You and I must pay that money off, Will. "

"Ay -- but still there's a question which is the best way to doit, " said Rufus. 

"The best way, I've a notion, " said Winthrop looking round athis cattle, -- "is not to take too long noon-spells in theafternoon. "

"Stop a bit. Sit down! -- I want to speak to you. Do you wantto spend all your life following the oxen?"

Winthrop stopped certainly, but he waited in silence. 

"_I_ don't!"

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know -- something --"

"What is the matter, Will?"

"Matter?" -- said the other, while his fine features shewed thechanging lights and shadows of a summer day, -- "why Winthrop, that I am not willing to stay here and be a ploughman all mylife, when I might be something better!"

The other's heart beat. But after an instant, he answeredcalmly, "How can you be anything better, Will?"

"Do you think all the world lies under the shadow of Wut-a-qut-o?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think all the world is like this little world whichthose hills shut in?"

"No, " -- said Winthrop, his eye going over to the blue depthsand golden ridge-tops, which it did not see; "-- but --"

"Where does that river lead to?"

"It leads to Mannahatta. What of that?"

"There is a world there, Winthrop, -- another sort of world, --where people know something; where other things are to be donethan running plough furrows; where men may distinguishthemselves! -- where men may read and write; and do somethinggreat; and grow to be something besides what nature made them!-- I want to be in that world. "

They both paused. 

"But what will you do, Rufus, to get into that world? -- we areshut in here. "

"_I_ am not shut in!" said the elder brother; and brow and lipand nostril said it over again; -- "I will live for somethinggreater than this!"

There was a deep-drawn breath from the boy at his side. 

"So would I, if I could. But what can we do?"

How difficult it was to do anything, both felt. But after adeliberate pause of some seconds, Rufus answered, "There is only one thing to do. -- I shall go to College. "

"To College! -- Will?"

The changes in the face of the younger boy were sudden andstartling. One moment the coronation of hope; the next momentdespair had thrown the coronet off; one more, and the hand ofdetermination, -- like Napoleon's, -- had placed it firmly onhis brow; and it was never shaken again. But he said nothing;and both waited a little, till thoughts could find words. 

"Rufus, -- do papa and mamma know about this?"

"Not yet. "

"What will they think of it?"

"I don't know -- they _must_ think of it as I do. My mind is madeup. I can't stay here. "

"But some preparation is necessary, Rufus, ain't it? -- we mustknow more than we do before we can go to College, mustn't we?How will you get that?"

"I don't know, I will get it. Preparation! -- yes!"

"Father will want us both at home this summer. "

"Yes -- this summer -- I suppose we must. We must do something --we must talk to them at home about it, -- gradually. "

"If we had books, we could do a great deal at home. "

"Yes, if, -- But we haven't. And we must have more time. Wecouldn't do it at home. "

"Papa wants us this summer. -- And I don't see how he can spareus at all, Rufus. "

"I am sure he will let us go, " said the other steadily, thoughwith a touch of trouble in his face. 

"We are just beginning to help him. "

"We can help him much better the other way, " said Rufusquickly. "Farming is the most miserable slow way of makingmoney that ever was contrived. "

"How do _you_ propose to make money?" inquired his brothercoolly. 

"I don't know! I am not thinking of making money at present!"

"It takes a good deal to go to College, don't it?"

"Yes. "

And again there was a little silence. And the eyes of bothwere fixed on the river and the opposite hills, while they sawonly that distant world and the vague barrier between. 

"But I intend to go, Winthrop, " said his brother, looking athim, with fire enough in his face to _burn up_ obstacles. 

"Yes, you will go, " the younger said calmly. The cool grey eyedid not speak the internal "So will I!" -- which stamped itselfupon his heart. They got up from the plough beam. 

"I'll try for't, " was Rufus's conclusion, as he shook himself. 

"_You'll get it_, " said Winthrop. 

There was much love as well as ambition in the delighted lookwith which his brother rewarded him. They parted to theirwork. They ploughed the rest of their field: -- what did theyturn over besides the soil?

They wended their slow way back with the oxen when the eveningfell; but the yoke was off their own necks. The lingeringwestern light coloured another world than the morning hadshined upon. No longer bondsmen of the soil, they trode itlike masters. They untackled their oxen and let them out, withthe spirit of men whose future work was to be in a largerfield. Only Hope's little hand had lifted the weight fromtheir heads. And Hope's only resting point was determination. 

CHAPTER II. 

A quiet smile played round his lips, As the eddies and dimples of the tidePlay round the bows of ships, That steadily at anchor ride. And with a voice that was full of glee, He answered, "ere long we will launchA vessel as goodly, and strong, and staunch, As ever weathered a wintry sea!"LONGFELLOW. 

"The ploughing's all done; thank fortune!" exclaimed Rufus ashe came into the kitchen. 

"Well, don't leave your hat there in the middle of the floor, "said his mother. 

"Yes, it just missed knocking the tea-cups and saucers off thetable, " said little Asahel. 

"It hasn't missed knocking you off your balance, " said hisbrother tartly. "Do you know where your own hat is?"

"It hain't knocked me off anything!" said Asahel. "It didn'ttouch me!"

"Do you know where your own hat is?"

"No. "

"What does it matter, Will?" said his mother. 

"It's hanging out of doors, on the handle of the grindstone. "

"It ain't!"

"Yes it is; -- on the grindstone. "

"No it isn't, " said Winthrop coming in, "for I've got it here. There -- see to it, Asahel. Mamma, papa's come. We've doneploughing. "

And down went his hat, but not on the floor. 

"Look at Winifred, Governor -- she has been calling for you allday. "

The boy turned to a flaxen-haired, rosy-cheeked, littletoddling thing of three or four years old, at his feet, andtook her up, to the perfect satisfaction of both parties. Herhead nestled in his neck and her little hand patted his cheekwith great approval and contentment. 

"Mamma, " said Asahel, "what makes you call Winthrop Governor?-- he isn't a governor. "

"Ask your father. And run and tell him tea's just ready. "

The father came in; and the tea was made, and the whole partysat down to table. A homely, but a very cheerful and happyboard. The supper was had in the kitchen; the little remainsof the fire that had boiled the kettle were not amiss afterthe damps of evening fell; and the room itself, with its bigfireplace, high dark-painted wainscoting, and even the cleanboard floor, was not the least agreeable in the house. And thefaces and figures that surrounded the table were manly, comely, and intelligent, in a high degree. 

"Well, -- I've got through with that wheat field, " said Mr. Landholm, as he disposed of a chicken bone. 

"Have you got through sowing?" said his wife. 

"Sowing! -- no! -- Winthrop, I guess you must go into the gardento-morrow -- I can't attend to anything else till I get mygrain in. "

"Won't you plant some sweet corn this year, Mr. Landholm? --it's a great deal better for cooking. "

"Well, I don't know -- I guess the field corn's sweet enough. Ihaven't much time to attend to sugar things. What _I_ look foris substantials. "

"Aren't sweet things substantial, sir?" said Winthrop. 

"Well -- yes, -- in a sort they are, " said his father laughing, and looking at the little fat creature who was still in herbrother's arms and giving him the charge of her supper as wellas his own. "I know _some_ sweet things I shouldn't like to dowithout. "

"Talking of substantials, " said Mrs. Landholm, "there's woodwanting to be got. I am almost out. I had hardly enough tocook supper. "

"Don't want much fire in this weather, " said the father, "However -- we can't get along very well without supper. --Rufus, I guess you'll have to go up into the woods to-morrowwith the ox-sled -- you and Sam Doolittle -- back of the pinewood -- you'll find enough dead trees there, I guess. "

"I think, " said Rufus, "that if you think of it, what arecalled substantial things are the least substantial of any --they are only the scaffolding of the other. "

"Of what other?" said his father. 

"Of the things which really last, sir, -- the things whichbelong to the _mind_ -- things which have to do with somethingbesides the labour of to-day and the labour of to-morrow. "

"The labour of to-day and the labour of to-morrow are prettynecessary though, " said his father dryly; "we must eat, in thefirst place. You must keep the body alive before the mind cando much -- at least I have found it so in my own experience. "

"But you don't think the less of the other kind of work, sir, do you?" said Winthrop looking up; -- "when one can get at it?"

"No, my boy, " said the father, -- "no, Governor; no man thinksmore highly of it than I do. It has always been my desire thatyou and Will should be better off in this respect than I haveever been; -- my great desire; and I haven't given it up, neither. "

A little silence of all parties. 

"What are the things which 'really last, ' Rufus?" said hismother. 

Rufus made some slight and not very direct answer, but thequestion set Winthrop to thinking. 

He thought all the evening; or rather thought and fancy took akind of whirligig dance, where it was hard to tell which waswhich. Visions of better opportunities than his father everhad; -- of reaching a nobler scale of being than his own earlylife had promised him; -- of higher walks than his young feethad trod: they made his heart big. There came the indistinctpossibility of raising up with him the little sister he heldin his arms, not to the life of toil which their mother hadled, but to some airy unknown region of cultivation andrefinement and elegant leisure; -- hugely unknown, and yetsurely laid hold of by the mind's want. But though fancy sawher for a moment in some strange travestie of years andeducation and circumstances, that was only a flash of fancy --not dwelt upon. Other thoughts were more near and pressing, though almost as vague. In vain he endeavoured to calculateexpenses that he did not know, wants that he could notestimate, difficulties that loomed up with no certain outline, means that were far beyond ken. It was but confusion; excepthis purpose, clear and steady as the sun, though as yet itlighted not the way but only the distant goal; _that_ was alwaysin sight. And under all these thoughts, little looked at yetfully recognized, his mother's question; and a certainsecurity that _she_ had that which would 'really last. ' He knewit. And oddly enough, when he took his candle from her handthat night, Winthrop, though himself no believer unless withhead belief, thanked God in his heart that his mother was aChristian. 

Gradually the boys disclosed their plan; or rather the elderof the boys; for Winthrop being so much the younger, for thepresent was content to be silent. But their caution was littleneeded. Rufus was hardly more ready to go than his parentswere to send him, -- if they could; and in their case, as inhis, the lack of power was made up by will. Rufus should havean education. He should go to College. Not more cheerfully onhis part than on theirs the necessary privations were met, thenecessary penalty submitted to. The son should stand on betterground than the father, though the father were himself thestepping-stone that he might reach it. 

It had nothing to do with Winthrop, all this. Nothing was saidof him. To send one son to College was already a great stretchof effort, and of possibility; to send _two_ was far beyondboth. Nobody thought of it. Except the one left out of theirthoughts. 

The summer passed in the diligent companionship of the oxenand Sam Doolittle. But when the harvests were gathered, andthe fall work was pretty well done; the winter grain in theground, and the November winds rustling the dry leaves fromthe trees, -- the strongest branch was parted from the familytree, in the hope that it might take root and thrive better onits own stock elsewhere. It was cheerfully done, all round. The father took bravely the added burden with the lessenedmeans; the mother gave her strength and her eyesight to makethe needed preparations; and to supply the means for them, allpinched themselves; and Winthrop had laid upon him thethreefold charge of his own, his brother's, and his father'sduty. For Mr. Landholm had been chosen a member of the StateLegislature; and he too would be away from home all winter. What sort of a winter it would be, no one stopped to think, but all were willing to bear. 

The morning came of the day before the dreaded Saturday, andno one cared to look at another. It was a relief, though ahated one, to see a neighbour come in. Even that, Winthropshunned; he was cleaning the harness of the wagon, and he tookit out into the broad stoop outside of the kitchen door. Hismother and brother and the children soon scattered to otherparts of the house. 

"So neighbour, " said Mr. Underhill, -- "I hear tell one of yoursons is goin' off, away from you?"

"Yes, " -- said Mr. Landholm, pride and sorrow strugglingtogether in his manner, -- "I believe he is. "

"Where's he goin'?"

"To Asphodel -- in the first place. "

"Asphodel, eh? -- What's at Asphodel?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's he goin' there for?"

"To pursue his studies -- there's an Academy at Asphodel. "

"An Academy. -- Hum. -- And so he's goin' after larnin' is he?And what'll the farmer do without him to hum?"

"Do the best I can -- send for you, neighbour Underhill. "

"Ha, ha! -- well, I reckon I've got enough to do to attend tomy own. "

"I guess you don't do much but fish, do you? -- there under themountain?"

"Well, you see, I hain't a great deal of ground. You can't runcorn _straight_ up a hill, can you? -- without somethin' to standon?"

"Not very well. "

"There be folks that like that kind o' way o' farming -- but Inever did myself. "

"No, I'll warrant you, " said Mr. Landholm, with a littleattempt at a laugh. 

"Well -- you say there's an Academy at Asphodel; then he aintgoing to -- a -- what do you call it? -- Collegiate Institution?"

"No, not just yet; by and by he'll go to College, I expect. --That's what he wants to do. "

"And you want it too, I suppose?"

"Yes -- I'll do the best I can by my children. I can't do as Iwould by them all, " said the father, with a mixture of prideexpressed and pride not expressed, -- "but I'll try to make aman of Will!"

"And t'other'll make a man of himself, " said Mr. Underhill, ashe saw Winthrop quit the stoop. "_He'll_ never run a plough upthe side of a house. But what kind of a man are you going tomake of Will? -- a great man?"

"Ah, I don't know!" said Mr. Landholm with a sigh. "That mustbe as Providence directs. "

"Hum -- I should say that Providence directs you to keep 'emboth to hum, " said Mr. Underhill; -- "but that's not my affair. Well, I'm going. -- I hear you are goin' to be in Vantasselthis winter?"

"Yes -- I'm going to make laws for you, " Mr. Landholm answeredlaughing. 

"Well --" said Mr. Underhill taking his hat, -- "I wish they'dput you up for President -- I'd vote for you!"

"Thank you. Why?"

"'Cause I should expect you'd give me somethin' nother andmake a great man of _me!_"

With a laugh at his own wit, Mr. Underhill departed. 

CHAPTER III. 

But who shall so forecast the years, And find in loss a gain to match?Or reach a hand through time to catchThe far-off interest of tears?TENNYSON. 

The day came. 

The farewell dinner was got ready -- the best of the season itmust be, for the honour of all parties and the love of one;but it mocked them. Mrs. Landholm's noble roast pig, and sweetchickens, and tea and fine bread; they were something to beremembered, not enjoyed, and to be remembered for ever, aspart of one strong drop of life's bittersweet mixture. Thetravellers, for Mr. Landholm was to accompany his son, hadalready dressed themselves in their best; and the other eyes, when they could, gazed with almost wondering pride on the veryfine and graceful figure of the young seeker of fortune. Buteyes could do little, and lips worse than little. The pang ofquitting the table, and the hurried and silent good-byes, wereover at last; and the wagon was gone. 

It seemed that the whole household was gone. The little oneshad run to some corner to cry; Winthrop was nowhere; and themother of the family stood alone and still by the table in thekitchen where they had left her. 

An old black woman, the sole house servant of the family, presently came in, and while taking up two or three of theplates, cast looks of affectionate pity at her mistress andfriend. She had been crying herself, but her sorrow had takena quiet form. 

"Don't ye!" she said in a troubled voice, and laying hershrivelled hand timidly on Mrs. Landholm's shoulder, -- "don'tye, Mis' Landholm. He's in the Lord's hand, -- and just you lethim be there. "

Mrs. Landholm threw her apron over her face and went out ofthe kitchen into her own room. The old woman continued to goround the table, gathering the plates, but very evidently busywith something else; and indeed humming or talking to herself, in a voice far from steady, "'There is a happy land, Where parting is unknown --'"

She broke off and sat down and put her face in her hands andwept. 

"Oh Lord! -- oh good Lord! -- I wish I was there! -- Be stillKaren -- that's very wicked -- wait, wait. 'They shall not beashamed that wait for him, ' he said, -- They will not beashamed, " she repeated, looking up, while the tears streameddown her cheeks. "I will wait. But oh! -- I wisht I hadpatience! I want to get straight out of trouble, -- I do. Notyet, Karen, -- not yet. 'When _he_ giveth quietness, then who canmake trouble?' That's it -- that's my way. "

She went about her business and quietly finished it. 

It had long been done, and the afternoon was wearing well on, when Mrs. Landholm came into the kitchen again. Karen hadtaken care of the children meanwhile. But where was Winthrop?The mother, now quite herself, bethought her of him. Karenknew he was not about the house. But Mrs. Landholm saw thatone of the big barn doors was open, and crossed over to it. Asmall field lay between that and the house. The great barnfloor was quite empty, as she entered, except of hay andgrain, with which the sides were tightly filled up to the top;the ends were neatly dressed off; the floor left clean andbare. It oddly and strongly struck her, as she saw it, thethought of the hands that had lately been so busy there; thework left, the hands gone; and for a few moments she stoodabsolutely still, feeling and putting away the idea that madeher heart ache. She had a battle to fight before she wasmistress of herself and could speak Winthrop's name. Nobodyanswered; and scolding herself for the tone of her voice, Mrs. Landholm spoke again. A little rustling let her know that shewas heard; and presently Winthrop made his appearance frombelow or from some distant corner behind the hay, and came tomeet her. He could not command his face to his mother's eyes, and sorrow for Will for a moment was half forgotten in sorrowfor him. As they met she put both hands upon his shoulders, and said wistfully, "My son?" -- But that little word silencedthem both. It was only to throw their arms about each otherand hide their faces in each other's neck, and cry strangetears; tears that are drawn from the heart's deepest well. Slight griefs flow over the surface, with fury perhaps; butthe purest and the sweetest waters are drawn silently. 

Winthrop was the first to recover himself, and was kissing hismother with manly quietness before she could raise her head atall. When she did, it was to return his kisses, first on onecheek and then on the other and then on his forehead, partingthe hair from it with both hands for the purpose. It seemed asif she would have spoken, but she did not, then, not in words. 

"My boy, " she said at last, "you have too hard measure laid onyou!"

"No, mother -- I don't think it so; -- there is nothing to makeme sorry in that. "

"Will has got his wish, " she observed presently. 

"Don't you approve of it mother?"

"Yes --" she said, but as if there were many a thought beforeand behind. 

"_Don't_ you approve of it, mother?" Winthrop asked quickly. 

"Yes, yes -- I do, -- in itself; but you know there is one wishbefore all others in my mind, for him and for you, Winthrop. "

He said nothing. 

"Come, " she said a moment after more cheerfully, "we must goin and see how cosy and sociable we can make ourselves alone. We must practise, " -- for next winter, she was going to say, but something warned her to stop. Winthrop turned away hisface, though he answered manfully. 

"Yes mother -- I must just go over to the bank field and seewhat Sam Doolittle has been at; and I've got to cut some wood;then I'll be in. "

"Will you be back by sundown?"

"I'll not be long after. "

The mother gave a look towards the sun, already very near thehigh western horizon, and another after Winthrop who wasmoving off at a good pace; and then slowly walked back to thehouse, one hand clasping its fellow in significant expression. 

Karen was sitting in her clean kitchen with little Winifred onher knees, and singing to her in a very sweet Methodist tune, "There fairer flowers than Eden's bloom, Nor sin nor sorrow know. Blest seats! -- through rude and stormy seas, I onward press to you. "

The mother stooped to take up the child. 

"What put that into your head, Karen?"

"Everything puts it in my head, missus, " said the old womanwith a smiling look at her; "sometimes when I see the sun godown, I think by'm-by I won't see him get up again; and timeswhen I lose something, I think by'm-by I won't want it; andsometimes when somebody goes away, I think by'm-by we'll beall gone, and then we'll be all together again; only I'd likesometimes to be all together without going first. "

"Will you get down, Winnie?" said her mother, "and let mammamake a cake for brother Winthrop?"

"A cake? -- for Governor?"

"Yes; get down, and I'll make one of Governor's hoe-cakes. "

The spirit of love and cheerfulness had got the upper handwhen the little family party gathered again; at least thatspirit had rule of all that either eyes or ears could takenote of. They gathered in the 'keeping-room, ' as it wascalled; the room used as a common sitting room by the family, though it served also the purpose of a sleeping chamber, and abed accordingly in one corner formed part of the furniture. Their eyes were accustomed to that. It did not hurt thegeneral effect of comfort. There the supper-table was set thisevening; the paper window-curtains were let down, and ablazing fire sparkled and crackled; while before it, on theapproved oaken barrel-head set up against the andirons, thedelicate rye and indian hoe-cake was toasting into sweetnessand brownness. Asahel keeping watch on one side of the fire, and Winifred at the other burning her little fair cheek inpremature endeavours to see whether the cake was ready to beturned. 

"What's going on here!" said Winthrop, catching her up in hisarms as he came in. 

Winifred laughed and kissed him, and then with an earnest slapof her little hand on his cheek requested to be set down, thatshe might see, "if that side wasn't done. "

"Yes, to be sure it's done, " said Asahel. "Where's mamma toturn it?"

"Here, " said Winthrop, taking up the barrel cover, -- "do youthink nobody can turn a cake but mamma?"

"_You_ can't, " said Asahel, -- "you'll let it fall in the ashes, -- you will! --"

But the slice of half baked dough was cleverly and neatlyslipped off the board and happily put in its place again withthe right side out; and little Winifred, who had watched theoperation anxiously, said with a breath of satisfaction and inher slow utterance, "There -- Governor can do anything!"

There were several cakes to take the benefit of the fire, oneafter the other, and then to be split and buttered, and thento be eaten; and cakes of Winthrop's baking and mamma'sbuttering, the children pronounced "as good as could be. "Nothing could have better broken up the gloom of their littletea party than Winthrop's hoe-cakes; and then the tea was sogood, for nobody had eaten much dinner. 

The children were in excellent spirits, and Winthrop kept themin play; and the conversation went on between the three for alarge part of the evening. When the little ones were gone tobed, then indeed it flagged; Winthrop and his mother satawhile silently musing, and then the former bade her goodnight. 

It was long before Mrs. Landholm thought of going to bed, orthought of anything around her; the fire was dead and hercandle burnt out, when at length she roused herself. The coldwind made itself felt through many a crevice in the woodenframe house; and feeling too much of its work upon her, shewent into the kitchen to see if there were not some warmthstill lingering about the covered-up fire. To her surprise, the fire was not covered up; a glow came from it yet; andWinthrop sat there on the hearth, with his head leaningagainst the jamb and his eyes intently studying the coals. Hestarted, and jumped up. 

"Winthrop! --what are you here for, my dear?"

"I came out to warm myself. "

"Haven't you been to bed?"

"No ma'am. "

"Where have you been?"

"Only in my room, mother. "

"Doing what, my son?"

"Thinking --" he said a little unwillingly. 

"Sit down and warm yourself, " said his mother placing hischair again; -- "Why, your hands are warm now?"

"Yes ma'am -- I have been here a good while. "

He sat down, where she had put his chair in front of thefireplace; and she stood warming herself before it, andlooking at him. His face was in its usual calmness, and shethought as she looked it was an excellent face. Great strengthof character -- great truth -- beneath the broad brow highintellectual capacity, and about the mouth a certain sweetself-possession; to the ordinary observer more cool thansweet, but his mother knew the sweetness. 

"What are you thinking about, Winthrop?" she said softly, bending down near enough to lay a loving hand on his brow. 

He looked up quickly and smiled, one of those smiles which hismother saw oftener than anybody, but she not often, -- a smilevery revealing in its character, -- and said, "Don't ask me, mamma. "

"Who should ask you, if not I?"

"There is no need to trouble you with it, mother. "

"You can't help that -- it will trouble me now, whether I knowit or not; for I see it is something that troubles you. "

"You have too good eyes, mother, " he said smiling again, but adifferent smile. 

"My ears are just as good. "

"Mamma, I don't want to displease you, " he said looking up. 

"You can't do that -- you never did yet, Winthrop, my boy, " sheanswered, bending down again and this time her lips to hisforehead. "Speak -- I am not afraid. "

He was silent a moment, and then mastering himself as it werewith some difficulty, he said, "Mamma, I want to be somebody!"

The colour flushed back and forth on his face, once and again, but beyond that, every feature kept its usual calm. 

A shadow fell on his mother's face, and for several minutesshe stood and he sat in perfect silence; he not stirring hiseyes from the fire, she not moving hers from him. When shespoke, the tone was changed, and though quiet he felt thetrouble in it. 

"What sort of a somebody, Winthrop?"

"Mamma, " he said, "I can't live here! I want to know more andto be more than I can here. I can, I am sure, if I only canfind a way; and I am sure I can find a way. It is in me, andit will come out. I don't want anybody to give me any help, nor to think of me; I can work my own way, if you'll only letme and not be troubled about me. "

He had risen from his chair to speak this. His mother kept herface in the shadow and said quietly, "What way will you take, Winthrop?"

"I don't know, ma'am, yet; I haven't found out. "

"Do you know the difficulties in the way?"

"No, mother. "

It was said in the tone not of proud but of humbledetermination. 

"My boy, they are greater than you think for, or than I liketo think of at all. "

"I dare say, mother. "

"I don't see how it is possible for your father to do morethan put Will in the way he has chosen. "

"I know that, mother, " Winthrop replied, with again the calmface but the flushing colour; -- "he said yesterday -- I heardhim --"

"What?"

"He said he would try to make a man of Rufus! I must do it formyself, mother. And I will. "

His mother hardly doubted it. But she sighed as she looked, and sighed heavily. 

"I ought to have made you promise not to be troubled, mamma, "he said with a relaxing face. 

"I am more careful of my promises than that, " she answered. "But, Winthrop, my boy, what do you want to do first?"

"To learn, mamma!" he said, with a singular flash of fire inhis usual cool eye. "To get rid of ignorance, and then to getthe power that knowledge gives. Rufus said the other day thatknowledge is power, and I know he was right. I feel like a manwith his hands tied, because I am so ignorant. "

"You are hardly a man yet, Winthrop; you are only a boy inyears. "

"I am almost sixteen, mother, and I haven't taken the firststep yet. "

What should the first step be? A question in the minds ofboth; the answer -- a blank. 

"How long have you been thinking of this?"

"Since last spring, mother. "

"Didn't Will's going put it in your head?"

"That gave me the first thought; but it would have made nodifference, mother; it would have come, sooner or later. Iknow it would, by my feeling ever since. "

Mrs. Landholm's eye wandered round the room, the very walls intheir humbleness and roughness reminding her anew of thelabour and self-denial it had cost to rear them, and then tofurnish them, and that was now expended in keeping the insidewarm. Every brown beam and little window-sash could witnessthe story of privation and struggle, if she would let her mindgo back to it; the associations were on every hand; neitherwas the struggle over. She turned her back upon the room, andsitting down in Winthrop's chair bent her look as he had doneinto the decaying bed of coals. 

He was standing in the shadow of the mantelpiece, and lookingdown in his turn scanned her face and countenance as a littlewhile before she had scanned his. Hers was a fine face, insome of the finest indications. It had not, probably it neverhad, the extreme physical beauty of her first-born, nor themark of intellect that was upon the features of the second. But there was the unmistakable writing of calm good sense, apatient and possessed mind, a strong power for the right, whether doing or suffering, a pure spirit; and that namelessbeauty, earthly and unearthly, which looks out of the eyes ofa mother; a beauty like which there is none. But more; toil'swork, and care's, were there, very plain, on the figure and onthe face, and on the countenance too; he could not overlookit; work that years had not had time to do, nor sorrowpermission. His heart smote him. 

"Mamma, " he said, "you have left out the hardest difficulty ofall. -- How can I go and leave you and papa without me?"

"How can you? My child, I can bear to do without you in thisworld, if it is to be for your good or happiness. There isonly one thing, Winthrop, I cannot bear. "

He was silent. 

"I could bear anything -- it would make my life a garden ofroses -- if I were sure of having you with me in the nextworld. "

"Mamma -- you know I would --"

"I know you would, I believe, give your life to serve me, myboy. But till you love God as well as that, -- you may be mychild, but you are not his. "

He was silent still; and heaving a sigh, a weary one, thatcame from very far down in her heart, she turned away againand sat looking towards the fireplace. But not at it, nor atanything else that mortal eyes could see. It was a look thatleft the things around her, and passing present wants andfuture contingencies, went beyond, to the issues, and to thesecret springs that move them. An earnest and painful look; alook of patient care and meek reliance; so earnest, so intent, so distant in its gaze, that told well it was a path the mindoften travelled and often in such wise, and with the self-sameburden. Winthrop watched the gentle grave face, so very gravethen in its gentleness, until he could not bear it; her cheekwas growing pale, and whether with cold or with thinking hedid not care to know. 

He came forward and gently touched his cheek to the pale one. 

"Mamma, do not look so for me!" he whispered. 

She pulled him down beside her on the hearth, and nestled herface on his shoulder and wrapped her arms round him. And theystrained him close, but he could not speak to her then. 

"For whom should I look? or for what do I live? My boy! Iwould die to know that you loved Christ; -- that my dear Masterwas yours too!"

The gently-spoken words tied his tongue. He was mute; till shehad unloosed her arms from about him and sat with her face inher hands. Then his head sought her shoulder. 

"Mamma, I know you are right. I will do anything to please you-- anything that I can, " he said with a great force uponhimself. 

"What _can_ you do, Winthrop?"

He did not answer again, and she looked up and looked into hisface. 

"Can you take God for your God? and give your heart and yourlife, -- all the knowledge you will ever get and all the powerit will ever give you, -- to be used for him?"

"For him, mamma? --"

"In doing his work -- in doing his pleasure?"

"Mamma -- I am not a Christian, " he said hesitatingly and hiseye falling. 

"And now you know what a Christian is. Till you can do this, you do nothing. Till you are Christ's after this whole-heartedfashion you are not mine as I wish to see you, -- you are notmine for ever, -- my boy -- my dear Winthrop --" she said, againputting her arm round him and bowing her face to his breast. 

Did he ever forget the moment her head lay there? the momentwhen his arms held the dearest earthly thing life ever had forhim? It was a quiet moment; she was not crying; no tears hadbeen dropped at all throughout their conversation; and whenshe raised her face it was to kiss him quietly, -- but twice, on his lips and on his cheek, -- and bid him good night. Buthis soul was full of one meaning, as he shut his littlebedroom door, -- that that face should never be paler or morecare-worn for anything of his doing; -- that he would give upanything, he would never go from home, sooner than grieve herheart in a feather's weight; nay, that rather than grieve her, he would _become a Christian_. 

CHAPTER IV. 

A lonely dwelling, where the shoreIs shadowed with rocks, and cypressesCleave with their dark green cones the silent skies, And with their shadows the clear depths below. SHELLEY. 

The winter was a long one to the separated family. Quietly wonthrough, and busily. The father in the distant legislature;the brother away at his studies; and the two or three lonelypeople at home; -- each in his place was earnestly andconstantly at work. No doubt Mr. Landholm had more time toplay than the rest of them, and his business cares did notpress quite so heavily; for he wrote home of gay dinings-out, and familiar intercourse with this and that member of theSenate and Assembly, and hospitable houses that were open tohim in Vantassel, where he had pleasant friends and pleasanttimes. But the home cares were upon him even then; he told howhe longed for the Session to be over, that he might be withhis family; he sent dear love to little Winifred and Asahel, and postscripts of fatherly charges to Winthrop, recommendingto him particularly the care of the young cattle and to go ondressing the flax. And Winthrop, through the long winter, hadtaken care of the cattle and dressed the flax in the samespirit with which he shut his bedroom door that night; alittle calmer, not a whit the less strong. 

He filled father's and brother's place -- his mother knew howwell. Sam Doolittle knew, for he declared "there wa'n't astake in the fences that wa'n't looked after, as smart as ifthe old chap was to hum. " The grain was threshed as duly asever, though a boy of sixteen had to stand in the shoes of aman of forty. Perhaps Sam and Anderese wrought better thantheir wont, in shame or in admiration. Karen never had so gooda woodpile, Mrs. Landholm's meal bags were never better lookedafter; and little Winifred and Asahel never wanted their ridesin the snow, nor had more nuts cracked o' nights; though theyhad only one tired brother at home instead of two fresh ones. Truth to tell, however, one ride from Winthrop would at anytime content them better than two rides from Will. Winthropnever allowed that he was tired, and never seemed so; but hismother and Karen were resolved that tired he must be. 

"He had pretty strength to begin with, " Karen said; "that wasa good thing; and he seemed to keep it up too; he was shootin'over everything. "

If Winthrop kept his old plans of self-aggrandizement, it wasat the bottom of his heart; he looked and acted nothing butthe farmer, all those months. There was a little visit fromRufus too, at mid-winter, which must have wakened the spiritof other things, if it had been at all laid to sleep. But ifit waked it kept still. It did not so much as shew itself. Unless indirectly. 

"What have you been doing all to-day, Governor?" said hislittle sister, meeting him with joyful arms as he came in onedark February evening. 

"What have _you_ been about all day?" said her brother, takingher up to his shoulder. "Cold isn't it? Have you got somesupper for me?"

"No, _I_ hav'n't, --" said the little girl. "Mamma! -- Governorwants his supper!"

"Hush, hush. Governor's not in a hurry. "

"Where have you been all day?" she repeated, putting herlittle hand upon his cold face with a sort of tenderconsideration. 

"In the snow, and out of it. "

"What were you doing in the snow?"

"Walking. "

"Was it cold?"

"Stinging. "

"_What_ was stinging?"

"Why, the cold!"

She laughed a little, and went on stroking his face. 

"What were you doing when you wa'n't in the snow?"

"What do you want to know for?"

"Tell me!"

"I was scutching flax. "

"What is that?"

"Why, don't you know? -- didn't you see me beating flax in thebarn the other day? -- beating it upon a board, with a bat? --that was scutching. "

"That day when mamma said, -- mamma said, you were working toohard?"

"I think it is very likely. "

"I thought we were done dressing flax?" remarked Asahel. 

"_We!_ -- well, I suppose you have, for this season. "

"Well, ain't you done dressing flax?"

"No, sir. "

"I thought you said the flax was all done, Winthrop?" said hismother. 

"My father's is all done, ma'am. "

"And yet you have been dressing flax to-day?" said Asahel;while his mother looked. 

"Mamma, " said Winthrop, "I wish Asahel was a little older. --He would be a help. "

"Who have you been working for?" said the child. 

"For myself. "

"Where have you been, Winthrop?" said his mother in a lowertone of inquiry. 

"I have been over the mountain, mamma, -- to Mr. Upshur's. "

"Dressing flax?"

"Yes, ma'am. "

"And you have come over the mountain to-night?"

"Yes, mother. "

She stooped in silence to the fire to take up her tea-pot; butAsahel exclaimed, "It ain't right, mamma, is it, for Winthrop to be dressingflax for anybody else?"

"What's the wrong?" said his brother. 

"Is it, mamma?"

But mamma was silent. 

"What's the wrong?" repeated Winthrop. 

"Because you ought to be doing your own business. "

"Never did, if I didn't to-day, " Winthrop remarked as he cameto the table. 

"For shame Asahel!" put in little Winifred with her childishvoice; -- "_you_ don't know. Governor always is right. "

It was a very cold February, and it was a very bleak walk overthe mountain; but Winthrop took it many a time. His mother nowand then said when she saw him come in or go out, "Don'tovertry yourself, my son! --" but he answered her always withhis usual composure, or with one of those deep breaking-uplooks which acknowledged only her care -- not the need for it. As Karen said, "he had a pretty strength to begin with;" andit was so well begun that all the exposure and hardship servedrather to its development and maturing. 

The snow melted from off the hills, and the winter blasts camemore fitfully, and were changed for soft south airs betweentimes. There was an end to dressing flax. The spring work wasopening; and Winthrop had enough to do without working on hisown score. Then Mr. Landholm came home; and the energies ofboth the one and the other were fully taxed, at the plough andthe harrow, in the barnyard and in the forest, where in allthe want of Rufus made a great gap. Mrs. Landholm had morereason now to distress herself, and distressed herselfaccordingly, but it was of no use. Winthrop wrought early andlate, and threw himself into the gap with a desperate ardourthat meant -- his mother knew what. 

They all wrought cheerfully and with good heart, for they weretogether again; and the missing one was only thought of as astimulus to exertion, or its reward. Letters came from Rufus, which were read and read, and though not much talked about, secretly served the whole family for dessert at their dinnerand for sweetmeats to their tea. Letters which shewed that thefather's end was gaining, that the son's purpose wasaccomplishing; Rufus would be a man! They were not veryfrequent, for they avoided the post-office to save expense, and came by a chance hand now and then; -- "Favoured by Mr. Upshur, " -- or, "By Uncle Absalom. " They were written on greatuncouth sheets of letter-paper, yellow and coarse; but thehandwriting grew bold and firm, and the words and the thoughtswere changing faster yet, from the rude and narrow mind of theboy, to the polish and the spread of knowledge. Perhaps theletters might be boyish yet, in another contrast; but the homecircle could not see it; and if they could, certainly thechange already made was so swift as shewed a great readinessfor more. Mr. Landholm said little about these letters; readthem sometimes to Mr. Upshur, read them many times to himself;and for his family, his face at those times was commentenough. 

"Well! --" he said one day, as he folded up one of the uncouthgreat sheets and laid it on the table, -- "the man that couldwrite _that_, was never made to hoe corn -- that's certain. "

Winthrop heard it. 

At midsummer Rufus came home for a little. He brought news. Hehad got into the good graces of an uncle, a brother of hisfather's, who lived at Little River, a town in the interior, forty miles off. This gentleman, himself a farmer extremelywell to do in the world, and with a small family, had invitedRufus to come to his house and carry on his studies there. Theinvitation was pressed, and accepted, as it would be the meansof a great saving of outlay; and Rufus came home in theinterval to see them all, and refit himself for the wintercampaign. 

No doubt he was changed and improved, like his letters; andfond eyes said that fond hopes had not been mistaken. If theylooked on him once with pride, they did now with a sort ofinsensible wonder. His whole air was that of a differentnature, not at all from affectation, but by the necessity ofthe case; and as noble and graceful as nature intended him tobe, they delightedly confessed that he was. Perhaps by thesame necessity, _his_ view of things was altered a little, astheir view of him; a little unconscious change, it might be;that nobody quarrelled with except the children; but certainit is that Winifred did not draw up to him, and Asahel stoodin great doubt. 

"Mamma, " said he one day, "I wish Rufus would pull off hisfine clothes and help Winthrop. "

"Fine clothes, my dear!" said his mother; "I don't think yourbrother's clothes are very fine; I wish they were finer. Doyou call patches fine?"

"But anyhow they are better than Winthrop's?"

"Certainly -- when Winthrop is at his work. "

"Well, the other day he said they were too good for him tohelp Winthrop load the cart; and I think he should pull themoff!"

"Did Winthrop ask him?"

"No; but he knew he was going to do it. "

"Rufus must take care of his clothes, or he wouldn't be fit togo to Little River, you know. "

"Then he ought to take them off, " said Asahel. 

"He did cut wood with Winthrop all yesterday. "

Asahel sat still in the corner, looking uncomfortable. 

"Where are they now, mamma?"

"Here they are, " said Mrs. Landholm, as Rufus and Winthropopened the door. 

The former met both pair of eyes directed to him, andinstantly asked, "What are you talking of?"

"Asahel don't understand why you are not more of a farmer, when you are in a farmhouse. "

"Asahel had better mind his own business, " was the somewhatsharp retort; and Rufus pulled a lock of the little boy's hairin a manner to convey a very decided notion of his judgment. Asahel, resenting this handling, or touched by it, slipped offhis chair and took himself out of the room. 

"He thinks you ought to take off your fine clothes and helpWinthrop more than you do, " said his mother, going on with ashirt she was ironing. 

"Fine clothes!" said the other with a very expressive breath, -- "I shall feel fine when I get that on, mother. Is thatmine?"

"Yes. "

"Couldn't Karen do that?"

"No, " said Mrs. Landholm, as she put down her iron and took ahot one. The tone said, "Yes -- but not well enough. "

He stood watching her neat work. 

"I am ashamed of myself, mother, when I look at you. "

"Why?"

"Because I don't deserve to have you do this for me. "

She looked up and gave him one of her grave clear glances, andsaid, "_Will_ you deserve it, Will?"

He stood with full eyes and hushed tongue by her table, forthe space of five minutes. Then spoke with a change of tone. 

"Well, I'm going down to help Winthrop catch some fish forsupper; and you sha'n't cook 'em, mamma, nor Karen neither. Karen's cooking is not perfection. By the by, there's onething more I do want, -- and confoundedly too, -- a pair ofboots; -- I really don't know how to do without them. "

"Boots?" -- said his mother, in an accent that sounded a littledismayful. 

"Yes. -- I can get capital ones at Asphodel -- really stylishones -- for five dollars; -- boots that would last me handsome agreat while; and that's a third less than I should have togive anywhere else, -- for such boots. You see I shall wantthem at Little River -- I shall be thrown more in the way ofseeing people -- there's a great deal of society there. I don'tsee that I can get along without them. "

His mother was going on with her ironing. 

"I don't know, " she said, as her iron made passes up and down, -- "I don't know whether you can have them or not. "

"I know, " said Winthrop. "But I don't see the sense of gettingthem at Asphodel. "

"Because I tell you they are two dollars and a half cheaper. "

"And how much more will it cost you to go round by the way ofAsphodel than to go straight to Little River?"

"I don't know, " said the other, half careless, halfdispleased; -- "I really haven't calculated. "

"Well, if you can get them for five dollars, " said Winthrop, "you shall have them. I can lend you so much as that. "

"How did you come by it?" said his brother looking at himcuriously. 

"I didn't come by it at all. "

"Where did it come from?"

"Made it. "

"How?"

"What do you want to know for? I beat it out of some rawflax. "

"And carried it over the mountain, through the snow, winternights, " added his mother. 

"You didn't know you were doing it for me, " Rufus saidlaughing as he took the money his brother handed him. But itwas a laugh assumed to hide some feeling. "Well, it shall getback to you again somehow, Winthrop. Come -- are we ready forthis piscatory excursion?"

"For what?" said his mother. 

"A Latin word, my dear mother, which I lately picked upsomewhere. "

"Why not use English?" said his mother. 

A general little laugh, to which many an unexpressed thoughtand feeling went, broke up the conference; and the two fishersset forth on their errand; Rufus carrying the basket andfishing-poles, and Winthrop's shoulder bearing the oars. Asthey went down in front of the house, little Winifred ran out. 

"Governor, mayn't I go?"

"No!" said Rufus. 

"We are going to Point Bluff, Winnie, " said Winthrop stoppingto kiss her, -- "and I am afraid you would roll off on one sidewhile I was pulling up a fish on the other. "

She stood still, and looked after her two brothers as theywent down to the water. 

The house stood in a tiny little valley, a little basin in therocks, girdled about on all sides with low craggy heightscovered with evergreens. On all sides but one. To the souththe view opened full upon the river, a sharp angle of whichlay there in a nook like a mountain lake; its further coursehid behind a headland of the western shore; and only the bendand a little bit before the bend could be seen from thevalley. The level spot about the house gave perhaps half anacre of good garden ground; from the very edge of that, thegrey rising ledges of granite and rank greensward between heldtheir undisputed domain. There the wild roses plantedthemselves; there many a flourishing sweet-briar flaunted innative gracefulness, or climbed up and hung about an old cedaras if like a wilful child determined that only itself shouldbe seen. Nature grew them and nature trained them; and sweetwreaths, fluttering in the wind, gently warned the passer-bythat nature alone had to do there. Cedars, as soon as thebottom land was cleared, stood the denizens of the soil onevery side, lifting their soft heads into the sky. Little elsewas to be seen. Here and there, a little further off, thelighter green of an oak shewed itself, or the tufts of ayellow pine; but near at hand the cedars held the ground, thick pyramids or cones of green, from the very soil, smoothand tapered as if a shears had been there; but only nature hadmanaged it. They hid all else that they could; but the greyrocks peeped under, and peeped through, and here and therebroke their ranks with a huge wall or ledge of granite, whereno tree could stand. The cedars had climbed round to the topand went on again above the ledge, more mingled there withdeciduous trees, and losing the exceeding beauty of theirsupremacy in the valley. In the valley it was not unshared;for the Virginia creeper and cat-briar mounted and flung theirarms about them, and the wild grape-vines took wildpossession; and in the day of their glory they challenged thebystander to admire anything without them. But the day oftheir glory was not now; it came when Autumn called them toshew themselves; and Autumn's messenger was far off. Thecedars had it, and the roses, and the eglantine, underSummer's rule. 

It was in the prime of summer when the two fishers went downto their boat. The valley level was but a few feet above theriver; on that side, with a more scattering growth of cedars, the rocks and the greensward gently let themselves down to theedge of the water. The little dory was moored between twouprising heads of granite just off the shore. Stepping fromrock to rock the brothers reached her. Rufus placed himself inthe stern with the fishing tackle, and Winthrop pushed off. 

There was not a stir in the air; there was not a ripple on thewater, except those which the oars made, and the long wideningmark of disturbance the little boat left behind it. Still --still, -- surely it was Summer's siesta; the very birds werestill; but it was not the oppressive rest before athunderstorm, only the pleasant hush of a summer's day. Thevery air seemed blue -- blue against the mountains, and keptback the sun's fierceness with its light shield; and even theeye was bid to rest, the distant landscape was so hidden underthe same blue. 

No distant landscape was to be seen, until they had rowed forseveral minutes. Winthrop had turned to the north and wascoasting the promontory edge, which in that directionstretched along for more than a quarter of a mile. Itstretched west as well as north, and the river's course beyondit was in a north-easterly line; so that keeping close underthe shore as they were, the up view could not be had till thepoint was turned. First they passed the rock-bound shore whichfenced in the home valley; then for a space the rocks and theheights fell back and several acres of arable ground edged theriver, cut in two by a small belt of woods. These acres werenot used except for grazing cattle; the first field wasoccupied with a grove of cylindrical cedars; in the second asoft growth of young pines sloped up towards the height; theground there rising fast to a very bluff and precipitous rangewhich ended the promontory, and pushed the river boldly into acurve, as abrupt almost as the one it took in an oppositedirection a quarter of a mile below. Here the shore was boldand beautiful. The sheer rock sprang up two hundred feet fromthe very bosom of the river, a smooth perpendicular wall;sometimes broken with a fissure and an out-jutting ledge, inother parts only roughened with lichens; then breaking awayinto a more irregular and wood-lined shore; but with thisvariety keeping its bold front to the river for many an oar'slength. Probably as bold and more deep below the surface, forin this place was the strength of the channel. The down tidesrushed by here furiously; but it was still water now, and thelittle boat went smoothly and quietly on, the sound of theoars echoing back in sharp quick return from the rock. It wasall that was heard; the silence had made those in the boatsilent; nothing but the dip of the oars and that quick mockeryof the rowlocks from the wall said that anything was moving. 

But as they crept thus along the foot of the precipice, theother shore was unfolding itself. One huge mountain had beenall along in sight, over against them, raising its toweringhead straight up some fourteen hundred feet from the water'sedge; green, in the thick luxuriance of summer's clothing, except where here and there a blank precipice of many hundredfeet shewed the solid stone. Now the fellow mountain, closebeyond, came rapidly in view, and, as the point of thepromontory was gained, the whole broad north scene opened uponthe eye. Two hills of equal height on the east shore lookedover the river at their neighbours. Above them, on bothshores, the land fell, and at the distance of about eightmiles curved round to the east in an amphitheatre of lowhills. There the river formed a sort of inland sea, and fromthence swept down queen-like between its royal handmaids onthe right hand and on the left, till it reached the promontorypoint. This low distant shore and water was now masked withblue, and only the nearer highlands shewed under the masktheir fine outlines, and the Shatemuc its smooth face. 

At the point of the promontory the rocky wall broke down to alow easy shore, which stretched off easterly in a straightline for half a mile, to the bottom of what was called thenorth bay. Just beyond the point, a rounded mass of granitepushed itself into the water out of reach of the trees andshewed itself summer and winter barefacedly. This rock wasknown at certain states of the tide to be in the way of thewhite mackerel. Winthrop made fast his little skiff between itand the shore, and climbing upon the rock, he and Rufus satdown and fell to work; for to play they had not come hither, but to catch their supper. 

The spirit of silence seemed to have possessed them both, forwith very few words they left the boat and took their places, and with no words at all for some time the hooks were baitedand the lines thrown. Profound stillness -- and then theflutter of a poor little fish as he struggled out of hiselement, or the stir made by one of the fishers in reachingafter the bait-basket -- and then all was still again. Thelines drooped motionless in the water; the eyes of the fisherswandered off to the distant blue, and then came back to theirbobbing corks. Thinking, both the young men undoubtedly were, for it could not have been the mackerel that called such gravecontemplation into their faces. 

"It's confoundedly hot!" said Rufus at length veryexpressively. 

His brother seemed amused. 

"What are you laughing at?" said Rufus a little sharply. 

"Nothing -- I was thinking you had been in the shade lately. We've got 'most enough, I guess. "

"Shade! -- I wish there was such a thing. This is a prettyplace though, if it wasn't August, -- and if one was doinganything but sitting on a rock fishing. "

"Isn't it better than Asphodel?" said Winthrop. 

"Asphodel! -- When are you going to get away from here, Winthrop?"

"I don't know. "

"Has anything been done about it?"

"No. "

"It is time, Winthrop. "

Winthrop was silent. 

"We must manage it somehow. You ought not to be fishing hereany longer. I want you to get on the way. "

"Ay -- I must wait awhile, " said the other with a sigh. "Ishall go -- that's all I know, but I can't see a bit ahead. I'mround there under the point now, and there's a big headland inthe way that hides the up view. "

Again the eyes of the fishers were fixed on their corks, gravely, and in the case of Rufus with a somewhat disturbedlook. 

"I wish I was clear of the headlands too, " said he after ashort silence; "and there's one standing right across my waynow. "

"What's that?"

"Books. "

"Books?" said Winthrop. 

"Yes -- books which I haven't got. "

"Books!" said his brother in astonishment. 

"Yes --why?"

"I thought you said _boots_, " the other remarked simply, as hedisengaged a fish from the hook. 

"Well, " said Rufus sharply, "what then? what if I did? Can't aman want to furnish both ends of his house at once?"

"I have heard of a man in his sleep getting himself turnedabout with his head in the place of his feet. I thought he wasdreaming. "

"You may have your five dollars again, if you think them ill-bestowed, " said the other putting his hand in his pocket; --"There they are! -- I don't want them -- I will find a way tostand on my own legs -- with boots or without, as the case maybe. "

"I don't know who has better legs, " said Winthrop. "I can'tpity you. "

"But seriously, Winthrop, " said Rufus, smiling in spite ofhimself, -- "a man may go empty-headed, but he cannot go bare-footed into a library, nor into society. "

"Did you go much into society at Asphodel?" asked Winthrop. 

"Not near so much as I shall -- and that's the very thing. I_can't do_ without these things, you see. They are necessary tome. Even at Asphodel -- but that was nothing. Asphodel will bea very good place for you to go to in the first instance. Youwon't find yourself a stranger. "

"Will you be ready for college next year?"

"Hum -- don't know -- it depends. I am not anxious about it -- Ishall be all the better prepared if I wait longer, and Ishould like to have you with me. It will make no difference inthe end, for I can enter higher, and that will save expense. Seriously Winthrop, you _must_ get away. "

"I _must_ catch that fish, " said Winthrop, -- "if I can --"

"You won't --"

"I've got him. "

"There's one place at Asphodel where I've been a good deal --Mr. Haye's -- he's an old friend of my father's and thinks aworld of him. You'll like him -- he's been very kind to me. "

"What shall I like him for -- besides that?" said Winthrop. 

"O he's a man of great wealth, and has a beautiful placethere, and keeps a very fine house, and he's very hospitable. He's always very glad to see me; and it's rather a pleasantchange from Glanbally's _vis-à-vis_ and underdone apple-pies. Heis one of the rich, rich Mannahatta merchants, but he has ataste for better things too. Father knows him -- they met someyears ago in the Legislature, and father has done him someservice or other since. He has no family -- except one or twochildren not grown up -- his wife is dead -- so I suppose he wasglad of somebody to help him eat his fine dinners. He saidsome very handsome things to encourage me. He might haveoffered me the use of his library -- but he did not. "

"Perhaps he hasn't one. "

"Yes he has -- a good one. "

"It's got into the wrong hands, I'm afraid, " said Winthrop. 

"He has a _little_ the character of being hard-fisted. At leastI think so. He has a rich ward that he is bringing up with hisdaughter, -- a niece of his wife's -- and people say he willtake his commission out of her property; and there is nobodyto look after it. "

"Well I shan't take the office, " said Winthrop, getting up. "If the thought of Mr. Haye's fine dinner hasn't taken awayyour appetite, suppose we get home and see how these mackerelwill look fried. "

"It's just getting pleasant now, " said Rufus as he rose to hisfeet. "There might be a worse office to take, for she willhave a pretty penny, they say. "

"Do you think of it yourself?"

"There's two of them, " said Rufus smiling. 

"Well, you take one and I'll take the other, " said Winthrop. Gravely. "That's settled. And here is something you had betterput in your pocket as we go -- it may be useful in themeanwhile. "

He quietly gathered up the five dollars from the rock andslipped them into the pocket of Rufus's jacket as he spoke;then slipped himself off the rock, took the fishing tackle andbaskets into the boat, and then his brother, and pushed outinto the tide. There was a strong ebb, and they ran swiftlydown past rock and mountain and valley, all in a cooler andfairer beauty than a few hours before when they had gone up. Rufus took off his hat and declared there was no place likehome; and Winthrop sometimes pulled a few strong strokes andthen rested on his oars and let the boat drop down with thetide. 

"Winthrop, " -- said Rufus, as he sat paddling his hands in thewater over the side of the boat, -- "you're a tremendous finefellow!"

"Thank you. -- I wish you'd sit a little more in the middle. "

"This is better than Asphodel just now, " Rufus remarked as hetook his hands out and straightened himself. 

"How do you like Mr. Glanbally?"

"Well enough -- he's a very good man -- not too bright; but he'sa very good man. He does very well. I must get you there, Winthrop. "

Winthrop shook his head and turned the conversation; and Rufusin fact went away from home without finding a due opportunityto speak on the matter. But perhaps other agency was at work. 

The summer was passed, and the fall nearly; swallowed up infarm duty as the months before had been. The cornstalks wereharvested and part of the grain threshed out. November was onits way. 

"Governor, " said his father one night, when Winthrop wasplaying "even or odd" with Winifred and Asahel, a greathandful of chestnuts being the game, -- "Governor, have you amind to take Rufus's place at Asphodel for a while this fall?"

The blood rushed to Winthrop's face; but he only forgot hischestnuts and said, "Yes, sir. "

"You may go, if you've a mind to, and as soon as you like. --It's better travelling now than it will be by and by. I canget along without you for a spell, I guess. "

"Thank you, father. "

But Winthrop's eyes sought his mother's face. In vain littleWinifred hammered upon his hand with her little doubled upfist, and repeated, "even or odd?" He threw down the chestnutsand quitted the room hastily. 

CHAPTER V. 

The wind blew hollow frae the hills, By fits the sun's departing beamLooked on the fading yellow woodsThat waved o'er Lugar's winding stream. BURNS. 

He five dollars were gone. No matter -- they could be wanted. They must be. Winthrop had no books either. What had he? Awardrobe large enough to be tied up in a pocket-handkerchief;his father's smile; his mother's tremulous blessing; and thetears of his little brother and sister. 

He set out with his wardrobe in his hand, and a dollar in hispocket, to walk to Asphodel. It was a walk of thirteen miles. The afternoon was chill, misty and lowering; November's sad-colour in the sky, and Winter's desolating heralds all overthe ground. If the sun shone anywhere, there was no sign ofit; and there was no sign of it either in the traveller'sheart. If fortune had asked him to play "even or odd, " hecould hardly have answered her. 

He was leaving home. _They_ did not know it, but he did. It wasthe first step over home's threshold. This little walk was thebeginning of a long race, of which as yet he knew only thestarting-point; and for love of that starting-point and forstraitness of heart at turning his back upon it, he could havesat down under the fence and cried. How long this absence fromhome might be, he did not know. But it was the snapping of thetie, -- that he knew. He was setting his face to the world; andthe world's face did not answer him very cheerfully. And thatpoor little pocket-handkerchief of things, which his mother'shands had tied up, he hardly dared glance at it; it said sopitifully how much they would, how little they had the powerto do for him; she and his father; how little way that heartof love could reach, when once he had set out on the coldjourney of life. He had set out now, and he felt alone, --alone; -- his best company was the remembrance of thatwhispered blessing; and that, he knew, would abide with him. If the heart could have coined the treasure it sent back, hismother would have been poor no more. 

He did not sit down, nor stop, nor shed a tear. It would havegone hard with him if he had been obliged to speak to anybody;but there was nobody to speak to. Few were abroad, at thatlate season and unlovely time. Comfort had probably retreatedto the barns and farmhouses -- to the _homesteads_, -- for it wasa desolate road that he travelled; the very wagons and horsesthat he met were going home, or would be. It was a long road, and mile after mile was plodded over, and evening began to saythere was nothing so dark it might not be darker. No Asphodelyet. 

It was by the lights that he saw it at length and guessed hewas near the end of his journey. It took some plodding then toreach it. Then a few inquiries brought him where he might seeMr. Glanbally. 

It was a corner house, flush upon the road, bare as a povertyof boards could make it, and brown with the weather. In thetwilight he could see that. Winthrop thought nothing of it; hewas used to it; his own house at home was brown and bare; butalas! this looked very little like his own house at home. There wasn't penthouse enough to keep the rain from theknocker. He knocked. 

"Is Mr. Glanbally at home?"

"Yes -- I 'spect he is -- he come in from school half an hourago. You go in there, and I guess you'll find him. "

'There, ' indicated a door at right angles with the front andabout a yard behind it. The woman opened the door, and leftWinthrop to shut it for himself. 

In a bare room, at a bare table, by an ill-to-do dip candle, sat Mr. Glanbally and his book. The book on the table, and Mr. Glanbally's face on the book, as near as possible; and both asnear as possible under the candle. Reason enough for that, when the very blaze of a candle looked so little like givinglight. Was that why Mr. Glanbally's eyes almost touched theletters? Winthrop wondered he could see them at all; butprobably he did, for he did not look up to see anything else. He had taken the opening and shutting of the door to be bysome wonted hand. Winthrop stood still a minute. There wasnothing remarkable about his future preceptor, except hisposition. He was a little, oldish man -- that was all. 

Winthrop moved a step or two, and then looking hastily up, thelittle man pushed the candle one way and the book another, andpeered at his visitor. 

"Ah! -- Do you wish to see me, sir?"

"I wish to see Mr. Glanbally. "

"That's my name, sir, -- that's right. "

Winthrop came a step nearer and laid a letter on the table. The old gentleman took it up, examined the outside, and thenwent on to scan what was within, holding the lines in the samefearful proximity to his face; so near indeed, that toWinthrop's astonishment when he got to the bottom of the pagehe made no scruple of turning over the leaf with his nose. Theletter was folded, and then Mr. Glanbally rose to his feet. 

"Well, sir, and so you have come to take a place in ourAcademy for a spell -- I am glad to see you -- sit down. "

Which Winthrop did; and Mr. Glanbally sat looking at him, alittle business-like, a little curious, a little benevolent. 

"What have you studied?"

"Very little, sir, -- of anything. "

"Your father says, his second son -- What was the name of theother?"

"William, sir. "

"William what?"

"Landholm. "

"William Landholm -- yes, I recollect -- I couldn't make outexactly whether it was _Sandball_ or _Lardner_ -- Mr. Landholm --Where is your brother now, sir?"

"He is at Little River, sir, going on with his studies. "

"He made very good progress -- very good indeed -- he's a youngman of talent, your brother. He's a smart fellow. He's goingon to fit himself to enter college, ain't he?"

"Yes sir. "

"He'll do well -- he can do what he's a mind. Well, Mr. Landholm -- what are _you_ going to turn your hand to?"

"I have hardly determined, sir, yet. "

"You'll see your brother -- something, I don't know what, oneof these days, and you'll always be his brother, you know. Nowwhat are you going to make of yourself? -- merchant or farmer?"

"Neither, sir. "

"No?" -- said Mr. Glanbally. He looked a little surprised, forMr. Landholm's letter had spoken of "a few weeks. "

"Well, what then?"

"I don't know what I shall like best, sir, " said Winthrop. 

"No, not yet; perhaps not yet. You'll be a happy man if everyou do, sir. _I_ never knew what I liked best, till I couldn'thave it. Well sir -- what do you calculate to begin upon? -- alittle arithmetic, I suppose, won't be out of the way. "

"I should like -- Latin, if you please, sir. "

"Latin! Then you're following your brother's steps? I am gladof it! It does me good to see boys studying Latin. That'sright. Latin. And Algebra, perhaps. "

"Yes sir. "

"I'll put you into Algebra, as soon as you like. "

"I shall want books, I suppose, sir. Can I get them here?"

"No; you can't get 'em, I'm afraid, this side of Deerford. "

"Deerford?"

"That's six miles off, or so. "

"I can't walk there to-night, " said Winthrop; "but I'll go to-morrow. "

"Walk there to-night! no, -- but we'll see. I think you've gotthe stuff in you. To-night! -- Maybe we can find some old booksthat will do to begin with; and you can walk over there somewaste afternoon. How far have you come to-day?"

"About thirteen miles, sir, from home. "

"On foot?"

"Yes sir. "

"And you want half a dozen more to-night?"

"No sir, " said Winthrop, smiling, -- "not if I might choose. "

"You'll find a day. Your father spoke to me about yourlodgings. You can lodge here, where I do; only twelveshillings a week. I'll speak to Mrs. Nelson about it; and youcan just make yourself at home. I'm very glad to see you. "

'Make himself at home'! Winthrop's heart gave an emphaticanswer, as he drew up a chair the opposite side of thefireplace. Make himself at home. That might only be done by aswift transport of thirteen miles. He could not do it, if hewould. Would he, if he could? Nay, he had set his face up themountain of learning, and not all the luring voices that mightsound behind and beside him could tempt him to turn back. Hemust have the Golden Water that was at the top. 

It was necessary to stuff cotton into his ears. Fancy hadobstinately a mind to bring his mother's gentle tread abouthim, and to ring the sweet tones of home, and to shew himpictures of the summer light on the hills, and of the littlesnow-spread valley of winter. Nay, by the side of that coldfireplace, with Mr. Glanbally at one corner and himself at theother, she set the bright hearth of home, girdled with warmhearts and hands; a sad break in them now for his being away. Mr. Glanbally had returned to his book and was turning overthe leaves of it with his nose; and Winthrop was left alone tohis contemplations. How alone the turning over of those leavesdid make him feel. If Mr. Glanbally would have held up hishead and used his fingers, like a Christian man, it would nothave been so dreary; but that nose said emphatically, "Younever saw me before. "

It was a help to him when somebody came in to spread that baretable with supper. Fried pork, and cheese; and bread that wasnot his mother's sweet baking, and tea that was very"herbaceous. " It was the fare he must expect up the mountain. He did not mind that. He would have lived on bread and water. The company were not fellow-travellers either, to judge bytheir looks. No matter for that; he did not want company. Hewould sing, "My mind to me a kingdom is;" but the kingdom hadto be conquered first; enough to do. He was thinking allsupper-time what waste ground it was. And after supper he wastaken to his very spare room. It was doubtful how the epithetcould possibly have been better deserved. That mattered not;the temple of Learning should cover his head by and by; itsignified little what shelter it took in the mean while. Butthough he cared nothing for each of these things separately, they all together told him he was a traveller; and Winthrop'sheart owned itself overcome, whatever his head said to it. 

His was not a head to be ashamed of his heart; and it was withno self-reproach that he let tears come, and then wiped themaway. He slept at last; and the sleep of a tired man should besweet. But "as he slept he dreamed. " He fell to hisjourneyings again. He thought himself back on the wearisomeroad he had come that day, and it seemed that night anddarkness overtook him; such night that his way was lost. Andhe was sitting by the roadside, with his little bundle, stayedthat he could not go on, when his mother suddenly came, with alight, and offered to lead him forward. But the way by whichshe would lead him was not one he had ever travelled, for thedream ended there. He awoke and knew it was a dream; yetsomewhat in the sweet image, or in the thoughts andassociations it brought back, touched him strangely; and hewept upon his pillow with the convulsive weeping of a littlechild. And prayed, that night, for the first time in his life, that in the journey before him his mother's God might be hisGod. He slept at last. 

He awoke to new thoughts and to fresh exertion. Action, action, was the business of the day; to get up the hill oflearning, the present aim of life; and to that he benthimself. Whether or not Winthrop fancied this opportunitymight be a short one, it is certain he made the most of it. Mr. Glanbally had for once his heart's desire of a pupil. 

It was a week or two before the walk was taken to Deerford andthe books bought. At the end of those weeks the wasteafternoon fell out, and Mr. Glanbally got Winthrop a ride in awagon for one half the way. Deerford was quite a place; but toWinthrop its great attraction was -- a Latin dictionary! Hefound the right bookstore, and his dollar was duly exchangedfor a second-hand Virgil, a good deal worn, and a dictionary, which had likewise seen its best days; and that was not sayingmuch; for it was of very bad paper and in most miserablelittle type. But it was a precious treasure to Winthrop. Hisheart yearned after some Greek books, but his hand was stayed;there was nothing more in it. He had only got the Virgil anddictionary by favour eking out his eight shillings, for thebooks were declared to be worth ten. So he trudged off homeagain with his purchases under his arm, well content. ThatVirgil and dictionary were a guide of the way for a good pieceof the mountain. Now to get up it. 

He had got home and was turning the books over with Mr. Glanbally, just in the edge of the evening, when the dooropened quick and a little female figure came in. She cameclose up to the table with the air of one quite at home. 

"Good evening, Mr. Glanbally -- father told me to give you thisletter. "

Winthrop looked at her, and Mr. Glanbally looked at theletter. She was a slight little figure, a child, not more thanthirteen or fourteen at the outside, perhaps not so much, buttall of her age. A face not like those of the Asphodelchildren. She did not once look towards him. 

"Why I thought you were in Mannahatta, Miss Elizabeth. "

"Just going there -- we have just come from Little River on ourway. "

"This letter is for you, Winthrop, " said Mr. Glanbally, handing it over. "And Mr. Haye was kind enough to bring itfrom Little River?"

"Yes sir -- he said it was for somebody here. "

"And now you are going to Mannahatta?"

"Yes sir -- to-morrow. Good bye, Mr. Glanbally. "

"Are you alone, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Yes sir. "

"Where is Miss Cadwallader?"

"She's at home. I've just been down to see nurse. "

"But it's too late for you, " said Mr. Glanbally, getting up, --"it's too dark -- it's too late for you to go home alone. "

"O no sir, I'm not afraid. "

"Stop, I'll go with you, " said Mr. Glanbally, -- "but I've beenriding till I'm as stiff as the tongs -- Winthrop, are you tootired to walk home with this young lady? -- as her father hasbrought you a letter you might do so much. "

"Certainly, sir, -- I am not tired. "

"I don't want anybody. I'm not in the least afraid, Mr. Glanbally, " said the little lady rather impatiently, and stillnot glancing at her promised escort. 

"But it's better, Miss Elizabeth" --

"No sir, it isn't. "

"Your father will like it better, I know. This is Mr. Landholm-- the brother of the Mr. Landholm you used to see last summer, -- you remember. "

Elizabeth looked at her guard, as if she had no mind toremember anybody of the name, and without more ado left theroom. Winthrop understanding that he was to follow, did so, and with some difficulty brought himself up alongside of thelittle lady, for she had not tarried for him and was moving onat a smart pace. Her way led them presently out of the villageand along a lonely country road. Winthrop thought he was not aneedless convenience at that hour; but it was doubtful whathis little charge thought. She took no manner of notice ofhim. Winthrop thought he would try to bring her out, for hewas playing the part of a shadow too literally. 

"You are a good walker, Miss Elizabeth. "

A slight glance at him, and no answer. 

"Do you often go out alone so late?"

"Whenever I want to. "

"How do you like living in the city?"

"I? -- I don't know. I have never lived there. "

"Have you lived here?"

"Yes. "

The tone was perfectly self-possessed and equally dry. Hetried her again. 

"My brother says you have a very pleasant place. "

There was no answer at all this time. Winthrop gave it up as abad business. 

It had grown nearly dark. She hurried on, as much as wasconsistent with a pace perfectly steady. About half a milefrom the village she came to a full stop, and looked towardshim, almost for the first time. 

"You can leave me now. I can see the light in the windows. "

"Not yet, " said Winthrop smiling -- "Mr. Glanbally would hardlythink I had done my duty. "

"Mr. Glanbally needn't trouble himself about me! He hasnothing to do with it. This is far enough. "

"I must go a little further. "

She started forward again, and a moment after hardly made herown words good. They encountered a large drove of cattle, thatspread all over the road. Little independence plainly falteredhere and was glad to walk behind her guard, till they hadpassed quite through. They came then to the iron gate of hergrounds. 

"You needn't come any further, " she said. "Thank you. "

And as she spoke she opened and shut the gate in his face. Winthrop turned about and retraced his steps homeward, to readhis brother's letter. It was read by his little end of candleafter he went up to bed at night. 

"Little River, Nov. 1807. 

"My dear governor, "For I expect you will be all that, one of these days, (aliteral "governor, " I mean, ) or in some other way assert yoursupremacy over nineteen twentieths of the rest of the humanrace. Methinks even now from afar I see Joseph's dreamenacting, in your favour, only you will perforce lacksomething of his _baker's dozen_ of homages in your own family. Unless -- but nobody can tell what may happen. For my part I amsincerely willing to be surpassed, so it be _only by you;_ andwill swing my cap and hurrah for you louder than anybody, thefirst time you are elected. Do not think I am more than halfmad. In truth I expect great things from you, and I expectwithout any fear of disappointment. You have an obstinacy ofperseverance, under that calm face of yours, that will be morethan a match for all obstacles in your way; indeed obstaclesonly make the rush of the stream the greater, if once it getby them; the very things which this minute threatened to checkit, the next are but trophies in the foaming triumph of itsonward course. You can do what you will; and you will aimhigh. Aim at the highest. 

"_I_ am aiming as hard as I can, and so fast that I can't seewhether my arrows hit. Not at the capture of any pretty face, -- though there are a few here that would be prizes worthcapturing; but really I am not skilled in that kind of archeryand on the whole am not quite ready for it. An archer needs tobe better equipped, to enter those lists with any chance ofsuccess, than alas! I am at present. I am aiming hard at thedressing up of my mind, in the sincere hope that the dressingup of my person may have some place in the after-piece. Inother words, I am so busy that I don't know what I am doing. Asphodel was a miserable place (though I am very glad you arein it) -- my chances of success at Little River are muchbetter. Indeed I am very much to my mind here; were I, as Isaid, a little better equipped outwardly, and if my auntLandholm only had mamma's recipe for making pumpkin pies; or, as an alternative, had the pumpkin crop this season butfailed. But alas! the huge number of the copper-coloured tribethat lurked among the corn forests a few weeks ago, forbid meto hope for any respite till St. Nicholas jogs my aunt L. 'selbow. 

"I have left myself no room to say with how much delight Ireceived your letter, nor with what satisfaction I think ofyou as having fairly started in the race. You have enteredyour plough, now, Governor, -- quick, quick, for the otherside. 

"Thine in the dearest rivalry, "Will. Rufus Landholm

"All manner of love to mamma, papa, and the little ones, fromWill. "

In another corner, -- "I am sorry Mr. Haye makes so little stayat Asphodel at this time -- you will not see anything of him, nor of his place. "

"I can bear that, " thought Winthrop. 

He was much too busy to see men or places. One fortnight wasgiven to the diligent study of Algebra; two other littlefortnights to Latin; and then his father came and took himhome, sooner than he expected. But he had "entered hisplough. "

Yet it was hard to leave it there just entered; and the ridehome was rather a thoughtful one. Little his father knew whathe had been about. _He_ thought his son had been "getting alittle schooling;" he had no notion he had begun to fithimself for College!

Just as they reached the river, at a little hamlet under thehill at the foot of the north bay, where the road branched offto skirt the face of the tableland towards the homepromontory, the wagon was stopped by Mr. Underhill. He cameforward and unceremoniously rested both arms upon the tire ofthe fore wheel. 

"Mornin'. Where' you been?"

"A little way back. 'Been to Asphodel, to fetch my sonWinthrop home. "

"Asphodel? -- that's a good way back, ain't it?"

"Well, a dozen miles or so, " said Mr. Landholm laughing. 

"Has he been to the 'cademy too?"

"Yes -- for a little while back, he has. "

"What are you going to make of your sons, neighbour Landholm?"

"Ah! -- I don't know, " said Mr. Landholm, touching his whipgently first on one side and then on the other side of his offhorse; -- "_I_ can't make much of 'em -- they've got to makethemselves. "

Neighbour Underhill gave a sharp glance at Winthrop and thencame back again. 

"What do you reckon's the use of all this edication, farmer?"

"O -- I guess it has its uses, " said Mr. Landholm, smiling alittle bit. 

"Well, do you s'pose these boys are goin' to be smarter menthan you and I be?"

"I hope so. "

"You do! Well, drive on! --" said he, taking his arms from thetop of the wheel. But then replacing them before the wagon hadtime to move --

"Where's Will?"

"Will? he's at Little River --doing well, as I hear. "

"Doing what? getting himself ready for College yet?"

"Yes -- he isn't ready yet. "

"I say, neighbour, -- it takes a power of time to get thesefellows ready to begin, don't it?"

"Yes, " said Mr. Landholm with a sigh. 

"After they're gone you calculate to do all the work yourself, I s'pose?"

"O I've only lost one yet, " said Mr. Landholm shaking thereins; "and he'll help take care of me by and by, I expect. --Come!"

Again the other's hands slipped off the wheel, and again wereput back. 

"We're goin' to do without larnin' here, " said he. "Lost ourschoolmaster. "

"That fellow Dolts gone?"

"Last week. "

"What's the matter?"

"The place and him didn't fit somewheres, I s'pose; at least Idon't know what 'twas if 'twa'n't that. "

"What are you going to do?"

"Play marbles, I guess, -- till some one comes along. "

"Well, my hands 'll be too cold to play marbles, if I sit heremuch longer, " said Mr. Landholm laughing. "Good day to ye!"

And the wheel unclogged, they drove on. 

CHAPTER VI. 

To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune; but to writeand read comes by nature. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 

Little could be done in the winter. The days were short andfull of employment; all the more for Will's absence. What withthreshing wheat and oats, foddering cattle, and dressing flax, driving to mill, cutting wood, and clearing snow, there was notime for Virgil during the few hours of daylight; hardly timeto repeat a Latin verb. The evenings were long and bright, andthe kitchen cosy. But there were axe-helves to dress out, andoars, and ox-yokes; and corn to shell, and hemp to hackle; andat which ever corner of the fireplace Winthrop might sethimself down, a pair of little feet would come pattering roundhim, and petitions, soft but strong, to cut an apple, or toplay jackstraws, or to crack hickory nuts, or to roastchestnuts, were sure to be preferred; and if none of these, orif these were put off, there was still too much of that sweetcompanionship to suit with the rough road to learning. Winniewas rarely put off, and never rejected. And the little garretroom used by Winthrop and Will when the latter was at home, and now by Winthrop alone, was too freezing cold when he wentup to bed to allow him more than a snatch at his longed-forwork. A few words, a line or two, were all that could bemanaged with safety to life; and the books had to be shut upagain, with bitter mortification that it must be so soon. Thewinter passed and Virgil was not read. The spring broughtlonger days, and more to do in them. 

"Father, " said Winthrop one night, "they have got no one yetin Mr. Dolts' place. "

"What, at Mountain Spring? I know they haven't. The foolishman thought twelve dollars a month wa'n't enough for him, Isuppose. "

"Why was he foolish, Mr. Landholm?"

"Because he greatly misstated his own value -- which it isn'tthe part of a wise man to do. _I_ know he wasn't worth twelvedollars. "

"Do you think I am worth more than that, sir?"

"I don't know what you're worth, " said his father good-humouredly. "I should be sorry to put a price upon you. "

"Why, Winthrop?" -- his mother said more anxiously. 

"Will you let me take Mr. Dolts' place, father?"

"His place? What, in the schoolhouse?"

"Yes, sir. If I can get it, I mean. "

"What for?"

"The twelve dollars a month would hire a man to do my work onthe farm. "

"Yes, and I say, what for? What do you want it for?"

"I think perhaps I might get more time to myself. "

"Time? -- for what?"

"Time to study, sir. "

"To study! -- Teach others that you may teach yourself, eh?"said Mr. Landholm, with a breath that was drawn very much likea sigh; and he was silent and looked grave. 

"I am afraid you wouldn't like it, Winthrop, " said his motherseriously. 

"I should like the time, mamma. "

"I wish I were a little richer, " said Mr. Landholm, drawinghis breath, -- "and my sons should have a better chance. I amwilling to work both _my_ hands off -- if that would be of anyavail. You may do as you please, my dear, about the school. I'll not stand in your way. "

"The twelve dollars would pay a man who would do as much workas I could, father. "

"Yes, yes, -- that's all straight enough. "

"Is Winthrop going to teach school?" exclaimed Asahel. 

"Perhaps so. "

"Then I should go to school to Winthrop, " said the little boyclapping his hands, -- "shouldn't I, mamma? Wouldn't it befunny?"

"I too?" cried Winifred. 

"Hush, hush. Hear what your father says. "

"I am only sorry you should have to resort to suchexpedients. "

"Do you think they would take me, father?"

"Take you? yes! If they don't, I'll make them. "

"Thank you, sir. "

Winthrop presently went with the children, who drew him outinto the kitchen. Mr. Landholm sat a few moments in silent andseemingly disturbed thought. 

"That boy'll be off to College too, " he said, -- "after hisbrother. "

"He'll not be likely to go after anything wrong, " said Mrs. Landholm. 

"No --that's pretty certain. Well, I'll do all I can for him!"

"Whatever he undertakes I think he'll succeed in, " the motherwent on remarking. 

"I think so too. He always did, from a child. It's hischaracter. There's a sharp edge to Rufus's metal, -- but Ithink Winthrop's is the best stuff. Well I ain't ashamed ofeither one on 'em!"

Winthrop took the school. He found it numbering some thirtyheads or more. That is, it would count so many, though in someinstances the heads were merely nominal. There were all sorts, from boys of fifteen and sixteen that wanted to learn theMultiplication table, down to little bits of girls that didnot know A, B, and C. Rough heads, with thoughts as matted astheir hair; lank heads, that reminded one irresistibly of_blocks;_ and one fiery red shock, all of whose ideas seemed tobe standing on end and ready to fly away, so little hold hadthey upon either knowledge, wit, or experience. And every oneof these wanted different handling, and every one called fordiligent study and patient painstaking. There were often fineparts to be found under that rough and untrained state ofnature; there were blocks that could be waked into life by alittle skill and kind management and a good deal of time; andeven the fly-away shock could be brought down to order andreason by a long course of patience and firmness. But theyounger heads that had no thoughts at all, -- the minds thatwere blank of intelligence, -- the eyes that opened but tostare at the new teacher! What amount of culture, whatdistance of days and months, would bring something out ofnothing!

It was hard, hard work. There was nobody to help the newteacher; he wrought alone; that the teacher always did. Thedays were days of constant, unintermitted labour; the nightswere jaded and spiritless. After spelling a great deal in thecourse of the day, and making up an indefinite number of sumsin addition and multiplication, Winthrop found his stomach wasgone for Latin and Virgil. Ears and eyes and mind were sick ofthe din of repetitions, wearied with confusions of thought nothis own; he was fain to let his own rest. The children "goton, " the parents said, "first-rate;" but the poor teacher wasstanding still. Week passed after week, and each Saturdaynight found him where he was the last. He had less time thanon the farm. Fresh from the plough, he could now and thensnatch a half hour of study to some purpose; there was no"fresh from the school. " Besides all which, he still foundhimself or fancied himself needed by his father, and whenevera pinch of work called for it he could not hold back his hand. 

"How does it go, Winthrop?" said his mother when she saw himwearily sitting down one summer night. 

"It doesn't go at all, mother. "

"I was afraid that it would be so. "

"How does what go?" said Asahel. 

"The school. "

"_How_ does it go?"

"Upon my head; and I am tired of carrying it. "

"Don't you like being school-teacher?"

"No. "

"_I_ do, " said Asahel. 

"I wouldn't stay in it, Winthrop, " said his mother. 

"I will not mamma, -- only till winter. I'll manage it so long. "

Eight months this experiment was tried, and then Winthrop cameback to the farm. Eight months thrown away! he sadly said tohimself. He was doubly needed at home now, for Mr. Landholmhad again been elected to the Legislature; and one of thefirst uses of Winthrop's freedom was to go with his father toVantassel and drive the wagon home again. 

One thing was gained by this journey. In Vantassel, Winthropcontrived to possess himself of a Greek lexicon and a GraecaMajora, and also a Greek grammar, though the only one he couldget that suited his purse was the Westminster grammar, inwhich the alternatives of Greek were all Latin. _That_ did notstagger him. He came home rich in his classical library, andvery resolved to do something for himself this winter. 

The day after his return from Vantassel, just as they had donesupper, there was a knock at the front door. Winthrop went toopen it. There he found a man, tall and personable, well-dressed though like a traveller, with a little leathern valisein his hand. Winthrop had hardly time to think he did not looklike an American, when his speech confirmed it. 

"How-do-you-do?" he said, using each word with a ceremonywhich shewed they were not denizens of his tongue. "I amwanting to make some résèrche in dis country, and I wasdirectet here. "

Winthrop asked him in, and then when he was seated, asked himwhat he wanted. 

"I am wishing to know if you could let me live wiz you a fewdays -- I am wanting to be busy in your mountains, about myaffairs, and I just want to know if you can let me have a bedto sleep on at night, and a little somet'ing to eat -- I wouldbe very much obliged and I would pay you whatever you please -- "

"Mother, " said Winthrop, "can you let this gentleman stay herea few days? he has business in the mountains, he says, andwants to stop here?"

"I do not wish to be no trouble to no person, " he saidblandly. "I was at a little house on de ozer side of de river, but I was told dere was no room for me, and I come to an ozerplace and dey told me to come to dis place. I will not troubleno person -- I only want a place to put my head while my feetare going all over. "

A moment's hesitation, and Mrs. Landholm agreed to this verymoderate request; and Mr. Herder, as he gave his name, and hisvalise, were accommodated in the 'big bedroom. ' This was thebest room, occupying one corner of the front of the house, while the 'keeping-room' was at the other; a tiny entry-way, of hardly two square yards, lying between, with a door in eachof three sides and a steep staircase in the fourth. 

Winthrop presently came to ask if the stranger had had supper. 

"I have not! But I will take anysing, what you please to giveme. "

Mr. Herder did not belie his beginning. He made himself muchliked, both by the children and the grown people; and as hesaid, he gave as little trouble as possible. He seemed ahearty, genial nature, excessively devoted to his pursuits, which were those of a naturalist and kept him out of doorsfrom morning till night; and in the house he shewed aparticular simplicity both of politeness and kind feeling; inpart springing perhaps from his German nature, and in partfrom the honest truthful acquaintance he was holding with theworld of nature at large. "He acted like a great boy, " oldKaren said in wondering ridicule, -- "to be bringing in leaves, and sticks, and stones, as he was every night, and making hisroom such a mess she never saw!"

He had soon a marked liking and even marked respect for hisyoung host. With his usual good-humour Winthrop helped him inhis quest; now and then offered to go with him on hisexpeditions; tracked up the streams of brooks, shewed thepaths of the mountains, rowed up the river and down the river;and often and often made his uncommon strength and agilityavail for something which the more burly frame of thenaturalist could not have attained. He was always ready; hewas never wearied; and Mr. Herder found him an assistant asacute as he was willing. 

"You do know your own woods -- better than I do!" -- he remarkedone day when Winthrop had helped him out of a botanicaldifficulty. 

"It's only the knowledge of the eye, " Winthrop replied, with aprofound feeling of the difference. 

"But you do seem to love knowledge -- of every kind, " said thenaturalist, -- "and that is what I like. "

"I have very little, " said Winthrop. "I ought to love what Ican get. "

"That is goot, " said Mr. Herder; -- "that is de right way. VenI hear a man say, 'I have much knowledge, ' -- I know he neverwill have much more; but ven I hear one say, 'I have alittle, ' -- I expect great things. "

Winthrop was silent, and presently Mr. Herder went on. 

"What kind of learning do you love de best?"

"I don't know, sir, really. "

"What have you studied?"

Winthrop hesitated. 

"A little Latin, sir. "

"Latin! -- How much Latin have you read?"

"The Gospel of John, and nearly the first book of the Aeneid. But I have very little time. "

"The Evangel of St. John, and the Aeneid. Are you going on tostudy it now?"

"Yes sir, -- as much as I can find time. "

"Greek too?"

"No sir. I am only beginning. "

"I ask, because I saw some Greek books on de table de ozernight and I wondered -- excuse me -- who was reading them. Youdo not know nothing of German?"

"No sir. "

"Ah, you must learn de German -- dat is _my_ language. "

"I don't know my own language yet, " said Winthrop. 

"Vat is dat?"

"English. "

"English! -- But how do you do, here amongst de hills -- isthere somebody to learn you?"

"No sir. "

"And you go by yourself? -- Vell, I believe you will climbanything, " said Mr. Herder, with a little smile; "only it isgoot to know what place to begin, -- as I have found. "

"I must begin where I can, sir. "

"But you should get to de Université; from dere it is moreeasy. "

"I know that, sir; that is what I am trying to fit myselffor. "

"You do not need so much fitting -- you will fit yourselfbetter there. I would get away to de Université. You will goup -- I see it in your face -- you will go up, like you go upthese rocks; it is pretty steep, but you know, vere one personcannot stand, anozer will mount. And what will you do wizyourself when you get to de top?"

"I don't know yet, sir, " Winthrop said laughing. 

"It is just so goot not to know, " said Mr. Herder. "What thinga man may wish to make himself, no matter what, he should fithimself for some ozer thing. Or else, he may be just one thing-- he might be poet, or mathématicien, or musicien maybe, -- andnot be a whole _man_. You understand?"

"Very well, sir. "

"I did not know no more what I would be, when I first went tode Université of Halle I have been to seven Universités. "

Winthrop looked at him, as if to see whether he were cased insevenfold learning. 

"I am not so very wise, neizer, " he said laughing. "And now Iam in de eight Université -- in Mannahatta -- and if you willcome dere I will be very glad to see you. "

"Thank you, sir; --but I am afraid Mannahatta would be tooexpensive for me. "

"Perhaps. -- But vere will you go?"

"I don't know sir, yet. "

"But ven you get through, you will come to Mannahatta and letme see what you have made of yourself?"

Winthrop shook his head. "I don't know when that will be, Mr. Herder. "

They were walking through a tangled woodland, along one of thedeep mountain gorges; the naturalist stopping frequently togive closer notice to something. He stood still here toexamine a piece of rock. 

"Will you let me give you one little direction, " said heproducing his little hammer, -- "_two_ little direction, or Ishould call them big direction, which may be of some goot toyou?"

"I wish you would, sir. "

"In de first place den, don't never go half way throughnozing. If some thing you want to know is in de middle of datrock, " said he striking it, "knock de rock all to pieces butwhat you will have it. I mean, when you begin, finish, and doit goot. "

"That is what I think, Mr. Herder. "

"In de second place, " continued Mr. Herder, illustrating partof his former speech by hammering off some pieces of rock fromthe mass, -- "don't never think that no kind of knowledge is ofno use to you. Dere is _nozing_ dat it is not goot to know. Youmay say, it is no use to you to know dat colour of de outsideof dis rock, and dis colour of de inside; you are wrong; youought to learn to know it if you can; and you will find de usebefore you die, wizout you be a very misfortunate man. Dere isnozing little in dis world; all is truth, or it will help youfind out truth; and you cannot know too much. "

"I believe that, sir; and I will remember it. "

"And when you have learned English and Latin and Greek, youwill learn German?" said the naturalist, putting the fragmentsof rock in his pocket. 

Winthrop laughed at his expression. 

"Promise me dat you will. You will find it of use to you too. "

"But all useful things are not possible, " said Winthrop. 

"I wish it was possible for you to bring down that bird, " saidthe naturalist, gazing up towards a pair of huge wings abovethem; -- "It would be very useful to me. " The creature wassailing through the distant ether in majestic style, movingits wings so little that they seemed an emblem of powerfulrepose. 

"That is a white-headed eagle, " said Winthrop. 

"I know him!" said the naturalist, still gazing. "I wish I hadhim; -- but _dat_ is a thing in which is no goot; as he is toofar off for me to reach him. Better for him! And it will bebetter for us to go home, for the day is not very long. "

Neither was Mr. Herder's stay in the mountains after that. Atparting he assured Winthrop "he should be very glad to do himall the goot he could do, if he would only let him know how. "

This was just after the fall of the leaf. The winter was amild one, and so fruitful in business belonging to the farmthat Winthrop's own private concerns had little chance. Latinwas pushed a little, and Greek entered upon; neither of themcould be forwarded much, with all the stress that hope ordespair could make. Snowstorm, and thaw, and frost, and sun, came after and after each other, and as surely and constantlythe various calls upon Winthrop's time; and every changeseemed to put itself between him and his books. Mr. Landholmwas kept late in Vantassel, by a long session, and the earlyspring business came all upon his son's hands. 

Letters were rather infrequent things in those days, waiting, as they usually did, for private carriage. It was near the endof March that the rare event of two letters in one dayhappened to the quiet little household. 

Winthrop got one at the post-office, with the Vantassel mark;and coming home found his mother sitting before the fire withanother in her hand, the matter of which she was apparentlystudying. 

"A letter, mamma?"

"Yes -- from Will. "

"How did it come?"

"It came by Mr. Underhill. "

"What's the matter? what does he say?"

"Not much -- you can see for yourself. "

"And here's one from papa. "

Mrs. Landholm took it, and Winthrop took Rufus's. 

"Little River, March 18, 1809. 

"What does papa mean to do? Something must be done, for Icannot stay here for ever; neither in truth do I wish it. If Iam ever to make anything, it is time now. I am twenty-one, andin mind and body prepared, I think, for any line of enterpriseto which fortune may call me. Or if nothing can be done withme, -- if what has been spent must be thrown away -- it isneedless to throw away any more; it would be better for me tocome home and settle down to the lot for which I seemed to beborn. Nothing can be gained by waiting longer, but much lost. 

"I am not desponding, but seriously this transition life I amleading at present is not very enlivening. I am neither onething nor the other; I am in a chrysalis state, which isnotoriously a dull one; and I have the further aggravation, which I suppose never occurs to the nymph _bona fide_, of amiserable uncertainty whether my folded-up wings are those ofa purple butterfly or of a poor drudge of a beetle. Besides, it is conceivable that the chrysalis may get weary of hiscase, and mine is not a silken one. I have been here longenough. My aunt Landholm is very kind; but I think she wouldlike an increase of her household accommodations, and alsothat she would prefer working it by the rule of _subtraction_rather than by the more usual and obvious way of _addition_. Sheis a good soul, but really I believe her larder containsnothing but pork, and her pantry nothing but -- pumpkins! Shehas actually contrived, by some abominable mystery of thekitchen, to keep some of them over through a period of frostand oblivion, and to-day they made their appearance in _dueform_ on the table again; my horror at which appearance has Ibelieve given me an indigestion, to which you may attributewhatever of gloominess there may be contained in this letter. I certainly felt very _heavy_ when I sat down; but the sight ofall your faces through fancy's sweet medium has greatlyrefreshed me. 

"Nevertheless answer me speedily, for I am in earnest, although I am in jest. 

"I intend to see you at all events soon. 

"Love to the little ones and to dear ma and pa from

"Rufus. "

"What does father say, mother?" was all Winthrop's commentaryon this epistle. She gave him the other letter, and he yieldedhis brother's again to her stretched-out hand. 

"Vantassel, March 22, 1809. 

"My dear Orphah, "I am really coming home! I never knew any months so long, itseems to me, as these three. The business will be finished Ibelieve next week, and the Session will rise, and the firstuse I shall make of my recovered freedom will be -- can youdoubt it? -- to hasten home to my family. My dear family -- theyare closer to me all the time than you think, and for someweeks past it seems to me they have had half of every thought. But I will be with you now, Providence willing, by the middleof the week, I hope, or as soon after as I can. 

"The last fortnight has been spent in talking -- we have had avery stormy discussion of that point I spoke to you of in mylast. The opposition of parties has run very high. It isgaining fearful ground in the country. I tremble for what maybe the issue. 

"I am quite well again. Mr. Haye has been very attentive andkind, and the Chancellor has shewn himself very friendly. 

"I expect Will will be at home as soon as I am myself. I wroteto him that he had better do so. I cannot afford to keep himany longer there, and there seems nothing better for him to doat present but to come home. I hope for better days. 

"Love to all till I see you, my dear wife and children, "W. Landholm. 

"My son Winthrop, this word is for you. I am coming home soonI hope to relieve you of so much care. Meanwhile a word. Iwant Sam to go into the north hill-field with the plough, assoon as he can; I think the frost must be out of the groundwith you. I intend to put wheat there and in the big bordermeadow. The bend meadow is in no hurry; it will take corn, Iguess. You had better feed out the turnips to the old blackcow and the two heifers. "

The letters were read at last, and folded up, by therespective hands that held them. 

"Well, Will's coming home, " the mother said, with half a sigh. 

Winthrop did not answer; he made over to her hand the letterhe held in his own. 

"The north hill-field is pretty much all ploughed already, " heremarked. 

"You're a good farmer, Governor, " said his mother. "But I amafraid that praise doesn't please you. "

"Yes it does, mamma, " he answered smiling a little. 

"But it don't satisfy you?"

"No more than it does you, mamma. It helps my hope of being agood something else some day. "

"I don't care much what you are, Governor, if it is onlysomething _good_, " she said. 

He met her grave, wistful eyes, but this time he did notsmile; and a stranger might have thought he was exceedinglyunimpressible. Both were silent a bit. 

"Well, it will be good to see them, " Mrs. Landholm said, againwith that half sighing breath; "and now we must make haste andget all ready to welcome them home. "

CHAPTER VII. 

Happy heWith such a mother! faith in womankindBeats with his blood, and trust in all things highComes easy to him. TENNYSON. 

What a coming home that was. Who could have guessed that anyungrateful cause had had anything to do with it. What kisses, what smiles, what family rejoicings at the table, what endlesstalks round the fire. What delight in the returned Member ofAssembly; what admiration of the future Collegian. For nobodyhad given that up; wishes were bidden to wait awhile, that wasall; and as the waiting had procured them this dear home-gathering, who could quarrel with it. Nay, there was no eyeshaded, there was no voice untuned for the glad music of thattime. 

"Well it's worth going away, to come back again, ain't it?"said Mr. Landholm, when they were gathered round the fire thatfirst evening. 

"No, " said his wife. 

"Well, I didn't think so last winter, " said the father of thefamily, drawing his broad hand over his eyes. 

"I can tell you, _I_ have thought so this great while, " saidRufus. "It's -- it's seven or eight months now since I havebeen home. "

"Papa, " said little Winifred, squeezing in and climbing up onher father's knees, -- "we have wanted you every night. "

"You did!" said her father, bending his face conveniently downto her golden curls; -- "and what did you do by day?"

"O we wanted you; but then you know we were so busy in theday-time. "

"Busy!" said her father, -- "I guess _you_ were busy!"

She made herself busy then, for putting both arms round hisneck she pressed and kissed his face, till feeling grew tooexcited with the indulgence of it, and she lay with her headquite still upon his shoulder where nobody could see her eyes. The father's eyes told tales. 

"I think Winifred has forgotten me, " observed Rufus. 

But Winifred was in no condition to answer the charge. 

"Winifred doesn't forget anybody, " said her father fondly. "We're none of us given to forgetting. I am thankful that wehave one thing that some richer folks want -- we all love oneanother. Winifred, --I thought you were going to shew me thatblack kitten o' your'n?"

"I haven't any kitten, papa, -- it is Asahel's. "

"Well, let Asahel bring it then. "

Which Asahel did. 

"Have you looked at the cattle, Mr. Landholm?" said his wife. 

"No -- not yet -- this is the first specimen of live stock I'veseen, " said Mr. Landholm, viewing attentively a little blackkitten which was sprawling very uncomfortably upon the paintedfloor. "I've heard of 'em though. Asahel has been giving me adetail at length of all the concerns of the farm. I thinkhe'll make an excellent corresponding secretary by and by. "

"I was only telling papa what Governor had been doing, " saidAsahel. 

"You were afraid he would be forgotten. There, my dear, Iwould let the little cat go back to its mother. "

"No papa, -- Asahel wanted you should know that _Governor_ didn'tforget. "

"Did you ever hear of the time, Asahel, " said his elderbrother, "that a cat was sold by the length of her tail?"

"By the length of her tail!" said Asahel unbelievingly. 

"Yes -- for as much wheat as would cover the tip of her tailwhen she was held so --"

And suiting the action to the word, Rufus suspended the kittenwith its nose to the floor and the point of its tail at theutmost height it could reach above that level. Winifredscreamed; Asahel sprang; Rufus laughed and held fast. 

"It's a shame!" said Winifred. 

"You have no right to do it!" said Asahel. "It _isn't_ thelaw, if it was the law; and it was a very cruel law!"

But Rufus only laughed; and there seemed some danger of abreak in that kindliness of feeling which their father hadvaunted, till Mrs. Landholm spoke. A word and a look of hers, to one and the other, made all smooth; and they went on againtalking, of happy nothings, till it was time to separate forthe night. It was only then that Mr. Landholm touched on anymatter of more than slight interest. 

"Well, Rufus, " he said when at last they rose from theirchairs, -- "are you all ready for College?"

"Yes sir. "

A little shadow upon both faces -- a very little. 

"I am glad of it. Well keep ready; -- you'll go yet one ofthese days -- the time will come. You must see if you can't becontented to keep at home a spell. We'll shove you off by andby. "

Neither party very well satisfied with the decision, but therewas no more to be said. 

To keep at home was plain enough; to be contented was anothermatter. Rufus joined again in the farm concerns; the well-wornLittle River broadcloth was exchanged for homespun; andWinthrop's plough, and hoe, and axe, were mated again as informer time they used to be. This at least was greatly enjoyedby the brothers. There was a constant and livelycorrespondence between them, on all matters of interest, past, present, and future, and on all matters of speculationattainable by either mind; and though judgments and likingswere often much at variance, and the issues, to the sameargument, were not always the same with each; on one point, the delight of communication, they were always at one. ClearlyRufus had no love for the axe, nor for the scythe, but hecould endure both while talking with Winthrop; though many atime it would happen that axe and scythe would be lost in theinterest of other things; and leaning on his snathe, orflinging his axe into a cut, Rufus would stand to argue, ordemonstrate, or urge, somewhat just then possessing all hisfaculties; till a quiet reminder of his brother's would sethim to laughing and to work again; and sweetly moved thescythes through the grass, and cheerily rung the axes, for thewinrows were side by side and the ringing answered from treeto tree. And the inside of home gave Rufus pleasure too. Yetthere were often times, -- when talk was at a standstill, andmother's "good things" were not on the table, with a string ofhappy faces round it, and neither axe nor scythe kept him froma present feeling of inaction, -- that the shadow reappeared onRufus's brow. He would sit in the chimney corner, looking fardown into the hearth-stones, or walk moodily up and down thefloor, behind the backs of the other people, with a face thatseemed to belong to some waste corner of society. 

"My son, " said Mrs. Landholm, one evening when Mr. Landholmwas out and the little ones in bed, -- "what makes you wearsuch a sober face?"

"Nothing, mother, -- only that I am doing nothing. "

"Are you sure of that? Your father was saying that he neversaw anybody sow broadcast with a finer hand -- he said you haddone a grand day's work to day. "

An impatiently drawn breath was the answer. 

"Rufus, nobody is doing _nothing_ who is doing all that Godgives him leave to do. "

"No mother -- and nobody ever _will_ do much who does not holdthat leave is given him to make of himself the utmost that hecan. "

"And what is that?" she said quietly. 

Nobody spoke; and then Rufus said, not quietly, "Depends on circumstances, ma'am; -- some one thing and someanother. "

"My son Rufus, -- we all have the same interest at heart withyou. "

"I am sorry for it, ma'am; I would rather be disappointedalone. "

"I hope there will be no disappointment -- I do not look forany, in the end. Cannot you bear a little presentdisappointment?"

"I do bear it, ma'am. "

"But Winthrop has the very same things at stake as you have, and I do not see him wear such a disconsolate face, -- ever. "

"Winthrop --" the speaker began, and paused, every feature ofhis fine face working with emotion. His hearers waited, butwhatever lay behind, nothing more of his meaning came out. 

"Winthrop what? --" said his brother laughing. 

"You are provokingly cool!" said the other, his eye changingagain. 

"You have a right to find fault with that, " said Winthropstill laughing, "for certainly it is a quality with which _you_never provoked anybody. "

Rufus seemed to be swallowing more provocation than he hadexpressed. 

"What were you going to say of me, Rufus?" said the otherseriously. 

"Nothing --"

"If you meant to say that I have not the same reason to bedisappointed that you have, you are quite right. "

"I meant to say that; and I meant to say that you do not feel_any_ disappointment as much as I do. "

Winthrop did not attempt to mend this position. He only mendedthe fire. 

"I wish you need not be disappointed!" the mother saidsighing, looking at the fire with a very earnest face. 

"My dear mother, " said Winthrop cheerfully, "it is no use towish that in this world. "

"Yes it is -- for there is a way to escape disappointments, --if you would take it. "

"To escape disappointments!" said Rufus. 

"Yes. "

"What is it?"

"Will you promise to follow it?"

"No mother, " he said, with again a singular play of light andshade over his face; -- "for it will be sure to be someimpossible way. I mean -- that an angel's wings may get overthe rough ground where poor human feet must stumble. "

How much the eyes were saying that looked at each other!

"There is provision even for that, " she answered. "'As aneagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on herwings, ' so the Lord declares he did once lead his people, --and he will again, -- over rough ground or smooth. "

"My dear mother, " said Rufus, "you are very good, and I -- amnot very good. "

"I don't know that that is much to the point, " she saidsmiling a little. 

"Yes it is. "

"Do you mean to say you cannot go the road that others havegone, with the same help?"

"If I should say yes, I suppose you would disallow it, " hereplied, beginning to walk up and down again; "but myconsciousness remains the same. "

There was both trouble and dissatisfaction in his face. 

"Will your consciousness stand this? -- 'Even the youths shallfaint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall; butthey that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength: theyshall mount up with wings as eagles, ' -- just what you werewishing for, Rufus; -- 'they shall run, and not be weary; andthey shall walk, and not faint. '"

He was silent a minute; and then replied, "That will alwayscontinue to be realized by some and not by others. "

"If you were as easily disheartened in another line, Rufus, you would never go through College. "

"My dear mother!" he said, "if you were to knock all myopinions to pieces with the Bible, it wouldn't change me. "

"I know it!" she said. 

There was extreme depression in voice and lip, and she bentdown her face on her hand. 

Two turns the length of the room Rufus took; then he came tothe back of her chair and laid his hand upon her shoulder. 

"But mother, " he said cheerfully, "you haven't told us the wayto escape disappointments yet; I didn't understand it. Foraught I see, everybody has his share. Even you -- and I don'tknow who deserves them less -- even you, I am afraid, aredisappointed, in me. "

It was as much as he could do, evidently, to say that; hiseyes were brilliant through fire and water at once. She liftedup her head, but was quite silent. 

"How is it, mamma? or how can it be?"

"I must take you to the Bible again, Rufus. "

"Well, ma'am, I'll go with you. Where?"

She turned over the leaves till she found the place, andgiving it to him bade him read. 

"'Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of theungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth inthe seat of the scornful; but his delight is in the law of theLord, and in his law doth he meditate, day and night. 

"'And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in due season; his leaf alsoshall not wither, _and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper_. '"

Rufus stopped and stood looking on the page. 

"Beautiful words!" he said. 

"They will bear looking at, " said Mrs. Landholm. 

"But my dear mother, I never heard of anybody in my life ofwhom this was true. "

"How many people have you heard of, in your life, who answeredthe description?"

Rufus turned and began to walk up and down again. 

"But suppose he were to undertake something not well -- notright?"

"The security reaches further back, " said Winthrop. 

"You forget, " said his mother, "he could not do that; or couldnot persist in it. "

Rufus walked, and the others sat still and looked at the fire, till the opening of the door let in Mr. Landholm and a coldblast of air; which roused the whole party. Winthrop put morewood on the fire; Mr. Landholm sat down in the corner and madehimself comfortable; and Mrs. Landholm fetched an enormous tinpan of potatoes and began paring them. Rufus presently stoppedbehind her chair, and said softly, "What's that for, mother?"

"For your breakfast to-morrow, sir. "

"Where is Karen?"

"In bed. "

"Why don't you let her do them, mother?"

"She has not time, my son. "

Rufus stood still and looked with a discontented face at thethin blue-veined fingers in which the coarse dirty roots wereturning over and over. 

"I've got a letter from my friend Haye to-day, " Mr. Landholmsaid. 

"What Haye is that?" said his wife. 

"What Haye? --there's only one that I know of; my old friendHaye -- you've heard me speak of him a hundred times. I used toknow him long ago in Mannahatta when I lived at Pillicoddy;and we have been in the Legislature together, time and again. "

"I remember now, " said Mrs. Landholm paring her potatoes. "What does he want?"

"What do you guess he wants?"

"Something from the farm, I suppose. "

"Not a bit of it. "

"Mr. Haye of Asphodel?" said Rufus. 

"Asphodel? no, of Mannahatta; -- he used to be at Asphodel. "

"What does he want, sir?"

"I am going to tell your mother by and by. It's her concern. "

"Well tell it, " said Mrs. Landholm. 

"How would you like to have some company in the house thissummer?"

Mrs. Landholm laid the potatoe and her knife and her handsdown in the pan and looking up asked, "What sort of company?"

"You know he has no wife this many years?"

"Yes --"

"Well -- he's a couple of little girls that he wants to putsomewhere in the country this summer, for their health, Iunderstand. "

Mrs. Landholm took up her knife again and pared potatoesdiligently. 

"Does he want to send them here?"

"He intimates as much; and I have no doubt he would be veryglad. It wouldn't be a losing concern to us, neither. He wouldbe willing to pay well, and he can afford it. "

"What has he done with his own place, at Asphodel?" saidWinthrop. 

"Sold it, he tells me. Didn't agree with his daughter, the airthere, or something, and he says he couldn't be at the botherof two establishments without a housekeeper in nary one of'em. And I think he's right. I don't see how he could. "

Winthrop watched the quick mechanical way in which hismother's knife followed the paring round and round thepotatoes, and he longed to say something. "But it is not myaffair, " he thought; "it is for Rufus. It is not _my_ businessto speak. "

Nobody else spoke for a minute. 

"What makes him want to send his children here?" said Mrs. Landholm without looking up from her work. 

"Partly because he knows me, I suppose; and maybe he has heardof you. Partly because he knows this is just the finestcountry in the world, and the finest air, and he wants them torun over the hills and pick wild strawberries and drinkcountry milk, and all that sort of thing. It's just the placefor them, as I told him once, I remember. "

"You told him! --"

"Yes. He was saying something about not knowing what to dowith his girls last winter, and I remember I said to him thathe had better send them to me; but I had no more idea of histaking it up, at the time, than I have now of going to Egypt. "

Mrs. Landholm did not speak. 

"You have somewhere you can put them, I suppose?"

"There's nobody in the big bedroom. "

"Well, do you think you can get along with it? or will it giveyou too much trouble?"

"I am afraid they would never be satisfied, Mr. Landholm, withthe way we live. "

"Pho! I'll engage they will. Satisfied! they never saw suchbutter and such bread in their lives, I'll be bound, as youcan give them. If they aren't satisfied it'll do 'em good. "

"But bread and butter isn't all, Mr. Landholm; what will theydo with our dinners, without fresh meat?"

"What will they do with them? Eat 'em, fast enough, only youhave enough. I'll be bound their appetites will take care ofthe rest, after they have been running over the mountains allthe morning. You've some chickens, hav'n't you? -- and I couldget a lamb now and then from neighbour Upshur; and here'sWinthrop can get you birds and fish any day in the year. "

"Winthrop will hardly have time. "

"Yes he will; and if he don't we can call in Anderese. He's apretty good hunter. "

"I'm not a bad one, " said Rufus. 

"And you have Karen to help you. _I_ think it will be a veryfine thing, and be a good start maybe towards Rufus's going toCollege. "

Another pause, during which nothing moved but the knife andMrs. Landholm's fingers. 

"Well -- what do you say?" said her husband. 

"If you think it will do -- I am willing to try, " she answered. 

"I know it will do; and I'll go and write directly to Haye -- Isuppose he'd like to know; and to-morrow my hands will havesomething to hold besides pens. "

There was profound silence again for a little after he wentout. 

"How old are these children?" Mrs. Landholm said. 

Neither answered promptly. 

"I saw one of them when I was at Asphodel, " said Winthrop;"and she was a pretty wellgrown girl; she must have beenthirteen or fourteen. "

"And that was a year and a half ago! Is her sister younger orolder?"

"It isn't her sister, " said Rufus; "it's her cousin, Ibelieve; Mr. Haye is her guardian. She's older. "

"How much?"

"A year or two -- I don't know exactly. "

Mrs. Landholm rose and took up her pan of potatoes with an airthat seemed to say Miss Haye and her cousin were both in it, and carried it out into the kitchen. 

Some little time had passed, and Winthrop went there to lookfor her. She had put her pan down on the hearth, and herselfby it, and there she was sitting with her arms round herknees. 

Winthrop softly came and placed himself beside her. 

"Mother --"

She laid her hand upon his knee, without speaking to him orlooking at him. 

"Mother -- I'll be your provider. "

"I would a great deal rather be yours, Governor, " she said, turning to him a somewhat wistful face. 

"There isn't anything in the world I would rather, " said he, kissing her cheek. 

She gave him a look that was reward enough. 

"I wonder how soon they will come, " she said. 

"That is what I was just asking; and pa said he supposed assoon as the weather was settled. "

"That won't be yet awhile. You must see and have a goodgarden, Governor. Perhaps it will be all for the best. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

Hills questioning the heavens for light --Ravines too deep to scan!As if the wild earth mimicked thereThe wilder heart of man;Only it shall be greener farAnd gladder, than hearts ever are. E. B. BROWNING. 

It was the first of June; a fair lovely summer morning, June-like. 

"I suppose Mr. Haye will come with them, " said Mr. Landholm, as he pushed back his chair from the breakfast-table; -- "haveyou anywhere you can put him?"

"There's the little bedroom, he can have, " said Mrs. Landholm. "Asahel can go in the boys' room. "

"Very good. Winthrop, you had better take the boat down ingood time this afternoon so as to be sure and be there -- Ican't be spared a moment from the bend meadow. The grass thereis just ready to be laid. It's a very heavy swath. I guessthere's all of three tons to the acre. "

"Take the boat down where?" said Asahel. 

"To Cowslip's mill, " said his brother. "What time will thestage be along, sir?"

"Not much before six, I expect. You'll have the tide with youto go down. "

"It's well to look at the fair side of a subject, " saidWinthrop, as his father left the room. 

"May I go with you, Governor?" said Asahel. 

"No sir. "

"Why?"

"Because I shall have the tide hard against me coming back. "

"But I am not much, and your arms are strong, " urged Asahel. 

"Very true. Well -- we'll see. Mother, do you want any fish to-day?"

A sort of comical taking of the whole subject somehow wasexpressed under these words, and set the whole family a-laughing, All but Rufus; he was impenetrable. He sat finishinghis breakfast without a word, but with a certain significantair of the lip and eyebrow, and dilating nostril, which saidsomething was wrong. 

It was the fairest of summer afternoons; the sky June's deepand full-coloured blue, the sun gay as a child, the hills intheir young summer dress, just put on; and the water, -- well, it was running down very fast, but it was running quietly, andlying under the sky and the sunshine it sparkled back theirspirit of life and joy. The air was exceeding clear, and thegreen outlines of the hills rose sharp against the blue sky. 

Winthrop stood a minute on one of the rocks at the water'sedge to look, and then stepped from that to the one where hisboat was moored, and began to undo the chain. 

"Are you going down after those people?" said the voice ofRufus behind him. It sounded in considerable disgust. 

"What do you advise?" said Winthrop without looking up. 

"I would see them at the bottom of the river first!"

"Bad advice, " said Winthrop. "It would be a great deal harderto go after them there. "

"Do you know what effect your going now will have?"

"Upon them?"

"No, upon you. "

"Well -- no, " said Winthrop looking at the river; "I shall havea pull up, but I shall hardly hear any news of that to-morrow. "

"It will make them despise you!"

"That would be rather an effect upon them, " said Winthrop, throwing the loosened chain into the boat's head and steppingin himself; -- "as it strikes me. "

"I wish you would take my advice, " said Rufus. 

"Which?" said his brother. 

"Let them alone!"

"I will, " said Winthrop; "I mean that. "

"You are excessively provoking!"

"Are you sure?" said Winthrop smiling. "What do you proposethat I should do, Rufus?"

"Send Sam Doolittle in your place. "

"Willingly; but it happens that he could not fill my place. You must see that. "

"And are you going to bring up their baggage and all?"

"I must know the sum of two unknown quantities before I cantell whether it is just equal to a boat-load. "

Rufus stood on the shore, biting his lip. The little boat wassilently slipping out from between the rocks, after a lighttouch or two of the oars, when Asahel came bounding down theroad and claimed Winthrop's promise for a place in it. 

"You don't want this child with you!" said Rufus. 

But Winthrop gave one or two pushes in the reverse directionand with great skill laid the skiff alongside of the rock. Asahel jumped in triumphantly, and again slowly clearing therocks the little boat took the tide and the impulse of astrong arm at once, and shot off down the stream. 

They kept the mid-channel, and with its swift current sooncame abreast of the high out-jutting headland behind which thewaters turned and hid themselves from the home view. Diver'sRock, it was called, from some old legend now forgotten. A fewminutes more, and the whole long range of the river below wasplain in sight, down to a mountain several miles off, behindwhich it made yet another sharp turn and was again lost. Inthat range the river ran a little west of south; just beforerounding Diver's Rock its direction was near due east, so thatthe down tide at the turn carried them well over towards theeastern shore. That was what they wanted, as Cowslip's millwas on that side. So keeping just far enough from the shore tohave the full benefit of the ebb, they fell softly and quickdown the river; with a changing panorama of rocks and foliageat their side, the home promontory of Shahweetah lying insight just north of them, and over it the heads of thenorthern mountains; while a few miles below, where the rivermade its last turn, the mountains on either side locked intoone another and at once checked and rested the eye. The linesof ground there were beautiful; the western light sportedamong them, dividing hill from hill, and crowning their headswith its bright glory. It was the dynasty of the East, justthen. The eastern mountains sat in stately pride; and theirretainers, the woods, down to the water side, glittered in theroyal green and silver; for on their fresh unsullied leavesthe light played with many a sheen. The other shore was brightenough still; but the shadows were getting long and the sunwas getting low, and the contrast was softly and constantlygrowing. 

"It's pretty, aint it, Winthrop?" said Asahel. 

"Yes. "

"I wonder what's the reason you row so much better than Rufus-- Rufus bites his lip, and works so, and makes such a splash, -- and you don't seem as if you worked at all. "

"Perhaps because I am stronger, " said Winthrop. 

"Rufus is strong enough. But that can't be the reason you doeverything better than he does. "

"That don't happen to be the state of the case. "

"Yes it does; for you always catch the most fish, and papasaid last summer he never saw any one bind and tie as fast asyou did. "

Again silently the boat fell down along the shore, a littledark speck amidst the glow of air and water. 

"How nice you look in your white jacket and trousers, " saidAsahel. 

"I am glad to hear it, " said Winthrop laughing. "Is it such anuncommon thing?"

"It is uncommon for you to look so nice. You must take greatcare of them, Winthrop; -- it took mother so long to makethem. "

"I have another pair, boy, " said Winthrop, biting his lips, asthe boat rounded to the little flight of steps at Cowslip'smill. 

"Yes, but then you know, Karen -- There's the stage, Governor!-- and the folks are come, I guess. Do you see those headspoking out of the windows?" --

"You stay here and mind the boat, Asahel. "

And Winthrop sprang ashore and went up to the crossing wherethe stage-coach had stopped. 

At 'Cowslip's mill' there was a sloop landing; a sort of wharfwas built there; and close upon the wharf the mill and storagehouse kept and owned by Mr. Cowslip. From this central point aroad ran back over the hills into the country, and at a littledistance it was cut by the high road from Vantassel. Here thestage had stopped. 

By the time Winthrop got there, most of the effects he was totake charge of had been safely deposited on the ground. Twoyoung ladies, and a gentleman seeming not far from young, stood at the end of the coach to watch the success of thedriver and Mr. Cowslip in disinterring sundry trunks and boxesfrom under the boot and a load of other trunks and boxes. 

"Where's Mr. Landholm? isn't Mr. Landholm here?" said thegentleman impatiently. 

"There's somebody from Mr. Landholm ahint you, " remarked Mr. Cowslip in the course of tugging out one of the trunks. 

The gentleman turned. 

"Mr. Landholm could not be here, sir, " said Winthrop; "but hisboat is here, and he has sent me to take care of it. "

"He has! Couldn't come himself, eh? I'm sorry for that. -- Thebox from the top of the stage, driver -- that's all. -- Do youunderstand the management of a boat?" said he eyeing Winthropa little anxiously. 

"Certainly, sir, " said Winthrop. "I am accustomed to act asMr. Landholm's boatman. I am his son. "

"His son, are you! Ah well, that makes all straight. I cantrust you. Not his eldest son?"

"No sir. "

"I thought it couldn't be the same. Well he's a deucedhandsome pair of sons, tell him. I'm very sorry I can't stop, -- I am obliged to go on now, and I must put my daughter andMiss Cadwallader in your charge, and trust you to get themsafe home. I will be along and come to see you in a few days. "

"The trunks is all out, sir, " said the driver. "We oughtn't tostop no longer. It's a bad piece atween here and Bearfoot. "

"I leave it all to you, then, " said Mr. Haye. "Elizabeth, thisyoung gentleman will see you and your baggage safe home. Youwon't want me. I'll see you next week. "

He shook hands and was off, stage-coach and all. And Mr. Cowslip and Winthrop were left mounting guard over the baggageand the ladies. Elizabeth gave a comprehensive glance at the"young gentleman" designated by her father, and then turned itupon the black leather and boards which waited to be disposedof. 

"You won't want the hull o' this for ballast, I guess, Winthrop, _this_ arternoon, " remarked Mr. Cowslip. "You'll haveto leave some of it 'long o' me. "

"Can't it all go?" said Elizabeth. 

"It would be too much for the boat, " said Winthrop. 

"If 'twouldn't for you, " -- Mr. Cowslip remarked in a kind ofaside. 

"Isn't there another boat?"

"There is another boat, " said Mr. Cowslip -- "there's mine --but she's up stream somewheres; comin' along, I guess, but shewon't be here time enough for your purposes. "

It was necessary to make a selection. The selection was made, and two stout trunks were successively borne down to the shoreby the hands of Winthrop and Mr. Cowslip and stowed in theboat's bow. The two girls had walked down and stood lookingon. 

"But I haven't got any books!" said Elizabeth suddenly whenshe was invited to get in herself. "Won't the book-box go?"

"Is it that 'ere big board box?" inquired Mr. Cowslip. "Won'tdo! It's as heavy as all the nation. "

"It will not do to put anything more in the boat, " saidWinthrop. 

"I can't go without books, " said Elizabeth. 

"You'll have 'em in the mornin', " suggested the miller. 

"O leave it, Lizzie, and come along!" said her companion. "Seehow late it's getting. "

"I can't go without some books, " said Elizabeth; "I shouldn'tknow what to do with myself. You are sure you can't take thebox?"

"Certainly, " said Winthrop smiling. "She would draw too muchwater, with this tide. "

"Yes, you'd be on the bottom and no mistake, when you got inthe bay, " said Mr. Cowslip. 

Elizabeth looked from one to the other. 

"Then just get something and open the box if you please, " shesaid, indicating her command to Winthrop; "and I will take outa few, till I get the rest. "

"O Lizzie!" urged her companion, -- "let the books wait!"

But she and her expostulation got no sort of attention. MissLizzie walked up the hill again to await the unpacking of thebox. Miss Cadwallader straightened herself against a post, while Mr. Cowslip and Winthrop went to the store for a hammer. 

"She's got spunk in her, ha'n't she, that little one?" saidthe miller. "She's a likely lookin' little gal, too. But Inever seen any one so fierce arter books, yet. "

Tools were soon found, in Mr. Cowslip's store, but the box wasstrongly put together and the opening of it was not a veryspeedy business. The little proprietor looked on patiently. When it was open, Miss Lizzie was not very easy to suit. Withgreat coolness she stood and piled up book after book on theuncovered portion of the box, till she had got at those shewanted. She pleased herself with two or three, and then theothers were carefully put back again; and she stood to watchthe fastening up of the box as it was before. 

"It will be safe here?" she said to the miller. 

"Safe enough!" he answered. "There's nobody here 'll want topry open these here books, agin this night. "

"And will the other things be safe?" said Miss Cadwallader, who had come up the hill again in despair. The miller glancedat her. 

"Safe as your hair in curl-papers. You can be comfortable. Nowthen --"

The sun was not far from the mountain tops, when at last MissLizzie stood again at the water's edge with her volumes. MissCadwallader grumbled a little, but it met the utmostcarelessness. The tide was very low; but by the help ofWinthrop in the boat and Mr. Cowslip on the muddy steps, theyoung ladies were safely passed down and seated in the stern-sheets, not without two or three little screams on the part ofMiss Cadwallader. The other, quite silent, looked a littlestrangely at the water coming within three or four inches ofher dress, an expression of grave timidity becoming her darkeye much better than the look it had worn a few minutesbefore. As the boat lurched a little on pushing off, thecolour started to her cheeks, and she asked "if there was anydanger?"

"Not the least, " Winthrop said. 

Elizabeth gave another look at the very self-possessed calmface of her boatman, and then settled herself in her placewith the unmistakable air of a mind at ease. 

The boat had rounded the corner of the wharf and fell into itsupward track, owing all its speed now to the rower's good arm;for a very strong down tide was running against them. Theycrept up, close under the shore, the oars almost touching therocks; but always, as if a spirit of divination were in her, the little boat turned its head from the threatened danger, edged in and out of the mimic bays and hollows in the shores, and kept its steady onward way. The scene was a fairy-landscene now. Earth, water, and air, were sparkling withfreshness and light. The sunlight lay joyously in the nest ofthe southern mountains, and looked over the East, and smiledon the heads of the hills in the north; while cool shadowsbegan to walk along the western shore. Far up, a broadshoulder of the mountain stood out in bright relief under thesun's pencil; then lower down, the same pencil put a gloryround the heads of the valley cedars; the valley was inshadow. Sharp and clear shewed sun-touched points of rock onthe east shore, in glowing colours; and on the west the hillsraised huge shadowy sides towards the sun, whom theythreatened they would hide from his pensioners. And the sunstood on the mountain's brow and blinked at the world, andthen dropped down; and the West had it! Not yet, but soon. 

The two girls were not unmindful of all the brightness aboutthem, for their eyes made themselves very busy with it, andlittle low-toned talks were held which now and then let a wordescape, of "pretty!" -- and "lovely!" -- and "wouldn't it belovely to have a little boat here? -- I'll ask papa!" --

"Is it hard to row?" asked the last speaker suddenly ofWinthrop. 

"No, " he said, "not at all, wind and water quiet. "

"Aren't they quiet to-night?"

"The tide is running down very strong. Asahel, trim the boat. "

"How on earth can such a child do anything to the boat?" saidMiss Cadwallader. "What do you want done, sir?"

"Nothing, " he said. "It is done. "

"_What_ is done?" said the young lady, with a wondering face toher companion. "Oh aren't you hungry?" she added with a yawn. "I am, dreadfully. I hope we shall get a good supper. "

"Whereabouts is Mr. Landholm's house?" said Elizabethpresently. Winthrop lay on his oars to point it out to her. 

"_That?_" she said, somewhat expressively. 

"Then why don't you go straight there?" inquired hercompanion. "You are going directly the other way. "

A slight fiction; but the boat had turned into the bay, andwas following the curve of its shores, which certainly leddown deep into the land from the farmhouse point. 

"I go here for the eddy. "

"He is going right, " said Asahel, who was sitting on thethwart next to the ladies. 

"Eddy?" said Miss Cadwallader, with a blank look at hercousin. 

"What is an eddy?" said Elizabeth. 

"The return water from a point the tide strikes against. "

Elizabeth eyed the water, the channel, and the _points_, and wasevidently studying the matter out. 

"What a lovely place!" she said. 

"I wonder if the strawberries are ripe, " said MissCadwallader. "Little boy, are there any strawberries in yourwoods?"

"My name is Asahel, " said the 'little boy' gravely. 

"Is it? I am very glad indeed to know it. Are there anystrawberries in the woods here?"

"Lots of 'em, " said Asahel. 

"Are they ripe yet?"

"I haven't seen more than half a dozen, " said Asahel. 

"They are just beginning in the sunny spots, " said his brothersmiling. 

"And do you have anything else here besides strawberries?"

The question was put to Asahel. He looked a little blank. Itwas a broad one. 

"Any other fruit, " said Elizabeth. 

"Plenty, " said Asahel. 

"What?" said Miss Cadwallader; "tell us, will you; for I'vecome here to live upon wild fruit. "

"Yes, ma'am, " said Asahel staring a little; -- "there's redraspberries, and black raspberries, and low-bush blackberriesand high blackberries, and huckleberries, and bearberries, andcranberries; besides nuts, and apples. I guess that ain'tall. "

"Thank you, " said his questioner. "That will do. I don'tintend to stay till nut-time. Oh what a way it is round thisbay!"

"I wish it was longer, " said Elizabeth. 

The sun had left all the earth and betaken himself to theclouds; and there he seemed to be disporting himself with allthe colours of his palette. There were half a dozen at a timeflung on his vapoury canvass, and those were changed andshaded, and mixed and deepened, -- till the eye could butconfess there was only one such storehouse of glory. And whenthe painting had faded, and the soft scattering masses wereleft to their natural grey, here a little silvered and there alittle reddened yet, -- the whole West was still lit up with aclear white radiance that shewed how hardly the sun's brighttrack could be forgotten. 

"Are we here!" said Elizabeth with a half sigh, as the boattouched the rocks. 

"Yes, to be sure, " said her cousin. "Where have you been?"

"In the clouds; and I am sorry to come down again. "

Mr. Landholm was standing on the rocks, and a very frank andhearty reception he gave them. With him they walked up to thehouse; Asahel staid behind to wait till Winthrop had made fastthe boat. 

"How do you like 'em, Governor?" whispered the little boy, crouching upon the rocks to get nearer his brother's ear. 

"How do I like 'em?" said Winthrop; -- "I can't like anybodyupon five minutes' notice. "

"One of 'em's pretty, ain't she? -- the one with the light-coloured hair?"

"I suppose so, " said Winthrop, tying his chain. 

"I guess they like it here pretty well, " Asahel went on. "Didn't you see how they looked at everything?"

"No. "

"They looked up, and they looked down, and on one side and theother side; and every now and then they looked at you. "

"And what did you look at?"

"I looked at them, -- some. "

"Well, " said Winthrop laughing, "don't look at them too much, Asahel. "

"Why not?"

"Why, you wouldn't want to do anything _too_ much, would you?"

"No. But what would be too much?"

"So much that they would find it out. "

"Well, they didn't find it out this evening, " said Asahel. 

But that little speech went home, and for half the way as hewalked up to the house holding Asahel's hand, there wassomething like bitterness in the heart of the elder brother. So long, but no longer. They had got only so far when helooked down at the little boy beside him and spoke with hisusual calm clearness of tone, entire and unchanged. 

"Then they aren't as clear-sighted as I am, Asahel, for Ialways know when you are looking at me. "

"Ah, I don't believe you do!" said Asahel laughing up at him;"I very often look at you when you don't look at me. "

"Don't trust to that, " said Winthrop. 

There was in the little boy's laugh, and in the way he waggedhis brother's hand backwards and forwards, a happy andconfident assurance that Winthrop could do anything, that itwas good to do. 

Everybody was at the supper-table; there was nothing forWinthrop then to do but to take his place; but his _countenance_to his mother, all supper-time, was worth a great deal. Hiscool collected face at her side heartened her constantly, though he scarcely spoke at all. Mr. Landholm played the partof host with no drawback to his cheerfulness; talked a greatdeal, and pressed all the good things of the table upon MissCadwallader; who laughing, talking, and eating, managed to doher full share of all three. She was certainly very pretty. Her "light-coloured" hair was not so light as to be uncomely, and fell in luxuriant ringlets all round the sides of herpretty head; and the head moved about enough to shake theringlets, till they threatened to form a mazy net to catchmen's eyes. The prettiest mouth in the world, set with twolittle rows of the most kissable teeth, if that feature everis contemplated in a kiss; and like the ringlets, the lipsseemed to be in a compact to do as much mischief as theycould; to keep together and mind their own business was thelast thing thought of. Yet it was wonderful how much businessthey managed to transact on their own account, too. The othergirl sat grave and reserved, even almost with an air ofshyness, eat much less, and talked none at all; and indeed herface was pale and thin, and justified what her father had saidabout her wanting the country. Rufus seemed to have got backhis good-humour. He quite kept up the credit of his side ofthe table. 

Immediately after supper the two girls went to their room. 

"Well, how do you like 'em?" said Mr. Landholm. "Did ye eversee a prettier creature, now, than that Rose? Her face is likea rose itself. "

"It is more like a peach-blossom, " said Rufus. 

"The little one don't look well, " said Mrs. Landholm. 

"I wonder who'll go strawberrying with them, " said Asahel. 

CHAPTER IX. 

_Mat_. "He is of a rustical cut, I know not how; he doth notcarry himself like a gentleman of fashion. "_Wet_. "Oh, Mr. Matthew, that's a grace peculiar but to a few. "EVERY MAN IN HIS HUMOUR. 

The 'big bedroom, ' which belonged to the strangers by right ofusage, opened from the kitchen; with another door upon thetiny entry-way once described. It had a fireplace, at presentfull of green pine bushes; a very clean bed covered withpatchwork; the plainest of chairs and a table; and a littlebit of carpet on one spot of the floor; the rest was painted. One little window looked to the south; another to the east;the woodwork, of doors and windows, exceeding homely andunpainted. An extraordinary gay satin toilet-cushion; and overit a little looking-glass, surrounded and surmounted with morethan an equal surface of dark carved wooden framing. 

It was to this unwonted prospect that the early June sunopened the young ladies' eyes the next morning. Elizabeth hadsurveyed it quietly a few minutes, when a little rustling ofthe patchwork called her attention to the shaking shoulders ofher companion. Miss Cadwallader's pretty face lay back on thepillow, her eyes shut tight, and her open mouth expressing allthe ecstatic delight that could be expressed without sound. 

"What is the matter?" said Elizabeth. 

Her cousin only laughed the harder and clapped her hands overher eyes, as if quite beyond control of herself. Elizabeth didnot ask again. 

"Isn't this a funny place we've come to!" said MissCadwallader at last, relapsing. 

"I don't see anything very laughable, " said Elizabeth. 

"But isn't it a _quizzical_ place?"

"I dare say. Every place is. "

"Pshaw! don't be obstinate, -- when you think just as I do. "

"I never did yet, about anything, " said Elizabeth. 

"Well, how do _you_ like eating in a room with a great dresserof tin dishes on one side and the fire where your meat wascooked on the other? -- in June?"

"I didn't see the tin dishes; and there wasn't any fire, ofconsequence. "

"But did you ever see such a gallant old farmer? Isn't hecomical? didn't he keep it up?"

"Not better than you did, " said Elizabeth. 

"But isn't he comical?"

"No; neither comical nor old. I thought you seemed to like himvery well. "

"O, one must do something. La! you aren't going to get upyet?"

But Elizabeth was already at the south window and had it open. Early it was; the sun not more than half an hour high, andtaking his work coolly, like one who meant to do a great dealbefore the day was ended. A faint dewy sparkle on the grassand the sweetbriars; the song sparrows giving good-morrow toeach other and tuning their throats for the day; and a fewwood thrushes now and then telling of their shyer and rarerneighbourhood. The river was asleep, it seemed, it lay sostill. 

"Lizzie! -- you ought to be in bed yet these two hours -- Ishall tell Mr. Haye, if you don't take care of yourself. "

"Have the goodness to go to sleep, and let me and Mr. Hayetake care of each other, " said the girl dryly. 

Her cousin looked at her a minute, and then turning her eyesfrom the light, obeyed her first request and went fast asleep. 

A little while after the door opened and Elizabeth stood inthe kitchen. It was already in beautiful order. She could secthe big dresser now, but the tin and crockery and almost thewooden shelves shone, they were so clean. And they shone inthe light of an opposite fire; but though the second of June, the air so early in the morning was very fresh; Elizabethfound it pleasant to take her stand on the hearth, near thewarm blaze. And while she stood there, first came in Karen andput on the big iron tea-kettle; and then came Mrs. Landholmwith a table-cloth and began to set the table. Elizabethlooked alternately at her and at the tea-kettle; both almostequally strange; she rather took a fancy to both. Certainly tothe former. Her gown was spare, shewing that means were so, and her cap was the plainest of muslin caps, without lace orbedecking; yet in the quiet ordering of gown and cap and theneat hair, a quiet and ordered mind was almost confessed; andnot many glances at the calm mouth and grave brow andthoughtful eye, would make the opinion good. It was a verycomfortable home picture, Elizabeth thought, in a differentline of life from that she was accustomed to, -- the farmer'swife and the tea-kettle, the dresser and the breakfast table, and the wooden kitchen floor and the stone hearth. She did notknow what a contrast _she_ made in it; her dainty little figure, very nicely dressed, standing on the flag-stones before thefire. Mrs. Landholm felt it, and doubted. 

"How do you like the place, Miss Haye?" she ventured. 

To her surprise the answer was an energetic, "Very much. "

"Then you are not afraid of living in a farm-house?"

"If I don't like living in it, I'll live out of it, " saidElizabeth, returning a very dignified answer to Winthrop's'good-morning' as he passed through the kitchen. 

"Are you going down to Cowslip's mill, Governor?" said Mrs. Landholm. 

"Yes, ma'am. "

"You will lose your breakfast. "

"I must take the turn of the tide. Never mind breakfast. "

"Going down after my trunks?" said Elizabeth. 

"Yes, ma'am. "

"I'll go too. Wait a minute!"

And she was in her room before a word could be said. 

"But Miss Haye, " said Mrs. Landholm, as she came out withbonnet and shawl, "you won't go without your breakfast? Itwill be ready long before you can get back. "

"Breakfast can wait. "

"But you will want it. "

"No -- I don't care if I do. "

And down she ran to the rocks, followed by Asahel. 

There was a singular still sweetness in the early summermorning on the water. The air seemed to have twice the life ithad the evening before; the light was fair, beyond words totell. Here its fresh gilding was upon a mountain slope; thereit stretched in a long misty beam athwart a deep valley; ittouched the broken points of rock, and glanced on the river, and seemed to make merry with the birds; fresh, gladsome andpure as their song. No token of man's busy life yet in theair; the birds had it. Only over Shahweetah valley, and fromMr. Underhill's chimney on the other side of the river, andfrom Sam Doolittle's in the bay, thin wreaths of blue smokeslowly went up, telling that there, -- and there, -- and there, -- man was getting ready for his day's work, and woman hadbegun hers! Only those, and the soft stroke of Winthrop'soars; but to Elizabeth that seemed only play. She satperfectly still, her eye varying from their regular dip to thesunny rocks of the headland, to the coloured mountain heads, the trees, the river, the curling smoke, -- and back again tothe oars; with a grave, intent, deep notice-taking. The waterwas neither for nor against them now; and with its light loadand its good oars the boat flew. Diver's Rock was passed; thenthey got out of the sunshine into the cool shadow of theeastern shore below the bay, and fell down the river fast tothe mill. Not a word was spoken by anybody till they gotthere. 

Nor then by Elizabeth, till she saw Mr. Cowslip and Winthropbringing her trunks and boxes to the boat-side. 

"Hollo! you've got live cargo too, Governor, " said the oldmiller. "That aint fair, -- Mornin'! -- The box is safe. "

"Are you going to put those things in here?" said Elizabeth. 

"Sartain, " said Mr. Cowslip; -- "book-box and all. "

"But they'll be too much for the boat?"

"Not at all, " said Winthrop; "it was only because the tide wasso low last night -- there wasn't water enough in the bay. I amnot going in the bay this morning. "

"No, " said Mr. Cowslip, -- "tide's just settin' up along shore-- you can keep along the edge of the flats. "

"You have load enough without them. Don't put 'em in here, sir!" Elizabeth exclaimed; -- "let them go in the other boat --your boat -- you said you had a boat -- it's at home now, isn'tit?"

"Sartain, " said Mr. Cowslip, "it's to hum, so it can start offagain as soon as you like. My boy Hild can fetch up the thingsfor you -- if you think it's worth while to have it cost you adollar. "

"I don't care what it costs, " said Elizabeth. "Send 'em upright away, and I'll pay for it. "

So Winthrop dropped into his place again, and lightly andswiftly as before the boat went on her way back towards theblue smoke that curled up over Shahweetah; and Elizabeth'seyes again roved silently and enjoyingly from one thing toanother. But they returned oftener to the oars, and restedthere, and at last when they were about half way home, shesaid, "I want to learn how to manage an oar -- will you let me takeone and try?"

Winthrop helped her to change her seat and put an oar into herhand, and gave her directions. The first attempts took effectupon nothing but Asahel's face, which gave witness to hisamusement; and perhaps Winthrop's dress, which was largelysplashed in the course of a few minutes. But Elizabeth did notseem to heed or care for either; she was intent upon the greatproblem of making her oar _feel_ the water; and as gravely, ifnot quite so coolly, as Winthrop's instructions weredelivered, she worked at her oar to follow them. A few randomstrokes, which did not seem to discriminate very justlybetween water and air, and then her oar had got hold of thewater and was telling, though irregularly and fitfully, uponthe boat. The difficulty was mastered; and she pulled withmight and main for half the rest of the way home; Winthrophaving nothing to do with his one oar but to keep the twosides of the boat together, till her arm was tired. 

"Next time I'll take both oars, " she said with a face of greatsatisfaction as she put herself back in her old seat. Asahelthought it would cure her of wearing pale cheeks, but he didnot venture to make any remark. 

Rose was waiting for them, sitting crouched discontentedly onthe rocks. 

"It's eight o'clock!" -- said she, -- "and I'm as hungry as abear!"

"So am I, " said Elizabeth springing ashore. 

"What have you been doing? -- keeping breakfast waiting thisage?"

"I never saw any thing so delicious in all my life, " saidElizabeth emphatically, before condescending to say what. 

"I shall tell Mr. Haye you are beginning a flirtationalready, " whispered Miss Cadwallader laughing as they went upto the house. 

But the cheek of the other at that became like a thunder-cloud. She turned her back upon her cousin and walked from herto the house, with a step as fine and firm as that of theBelvidere Apollo and a figure like a young pine tree. Rufus, who met her at the door, was astounded with a salutation suchas a queen might bestow on a discarded courtier; but by thetime the little lady came to the table she had got back herusual air. 

"Well, how do you like boating before breakfast?" said MrLandholm. 

"_Very_ much, " Elizabeth said. 

"I don't like it very much, " said he, "for I ought to havemowed half an acre by this time, instead of being here at mybread and butter. "

"It was not my fault, sir. "

"No, no; it's all right, I am glad you went. I should havetaken my breakfast and been off, long ago; but I waited out ofpure civility to you, to see how you did. 'Pon my word, Ithink you have gained half a pound of flesh already. "

"She looks a great deal better, " said Asahel. 

Elizabeth laughed a little, but entered into no discussion ofthe subject. 

After breakfast the trunks arrived and the young ladies werebusy; and two or three days passed quietly in getting wonted. 

"Mr. Landholm, " said Miss Cadwallader, a few mornings after, "will you do one thing for me?"

"A great many, Miss Rose, " he said, stopping with his hands onhis knees as he was about to leave the table, and looking ather attentively. 

"I want you to send somebody to shew me where the strawberriesare. "

"Strawberries! Do you want to go and pick strawberries?"

"To be sure I do. That's what I came here for. "

"Strawberries, eh, " said Mr. Landholm. "Well, I guess you'llhave to wait a little. There aint a soul that can go with youthis morning. Besides, I don't believe there are any ripeyet. "

"O yes there are, papa!" said Asahel. 

"I guess Bright Spot's full of them, " said Mrs. Landholm. 

"Bright Spot!" said the farmer. "Well, we must be all off tothe hay-field. You see, there's some grass, Miss Rose, standing ready to be cut, that _can't_ wait; so you'll have to. "

"What if it wasn't cut?" said Miss Cadwallader pouting. 

"What if it wasn't cut! -- then the cattle would have nothingto eat next winter, and that would be worse than your wantingstrawberries. No -- I'll tell you, -- It'll be a fine afternoon;and you keep yourself quiet, out of the sun, till it getstowards evening; and I'll contrive to spare one of the boys togo with you. The strawberries will be all the riper, and youcan get as many as you want in an hour or two. "

So upon that the party scattered, and the house was desertedto the 'women-folks;' with the exception of little Asahel; andeven he was despatched in a few hours to the field with thedinner of his father and brothers. The girls betook themselvesto their room, and wore out the long day as they could. 

It grew to the tempting time of the afternoon. 

"Here they are!" said Rose who sat at the east window. "Nowfor it! That farmer is a very good man. I really didn't expectit. "

"_They?_" said Elizabeth. 

"Yes -- both the 'boys, ' as the farmer calls them. "

"I should think one might have been enough, " said Elizabeth. 

"Well, there's no harm in having two. Isn't the eldest onehandsome?"

"I don't know. "

"You _do_ know. "

"I don't! for I haven't thought about it. "

"Do you have to think before you can tell whether a person ishandsome?"

"Yes; -- before I can tell whether I think he is. "

"Well, look at him, -- I tell you he has the most splendideyes. "

"Rose Cadwallader!" said her cousin laying down her book, "what is it to you or me if all the farmer's sons in the landhave splendid eyes?"

Elizabeth's eyebrows said it was very little to her. 

"I like to look at a handsome face anywhere, " said Rosepouting. "Come -- will you. "

Elizabeth did come, but with a very uncompromising set of thesaid eyebrows. 

It appeared that everybody was going strawberrying, exceptMrs. Landholm and Winthrop; at least the former had not herbonnet on, and the latter was not in the company at all. Thechildren found this out and raised a cry of dismay, which waschanged into a cry of entreaty as Winthrop came in. Winthropwas going after fish. But Winifred got hold of his hand, andAsahel withstood him with arguments; and at last Mrs. Landholmput in her gentle word, that strawberries would de just aswell as fish, and better. So Winthrop put up his fishing-rodand shouldered the oars, and armed with baskets of all sizesthe whole party trooped after him. 

In the boat Elizabeth might have had a good opportunity to actupon her cousin's request; for Rufus sat in the stern withthem and talked, while Winthrop handled the oars. But Rufusand her cousin had the talk all to themselves; Elizabeth heldoff from it, and gave her eyes to nothing but the river andthe hills. 

They crossed the river, going a little up, to a tiny greenvalley just at the water's edge. On every side but the riverit was sheltered and shut in by woody walls nigh two hundredfeet in height. The bottom of the valley was a finegreensward, only sprinkled with trees; while from the edge ofit the virgin forest rose steeply to the first height, andthen following the broken ground stretched away up to the topof the neighbouring mountains. From the valley bottom, however, nothing of these could be seen; nothing was to beseen but its own leafy walls and the blue sky above them. 

"Is this the place where we are to find strawberries?" saidMiss Cadwallader. 

"This is the place, " said Rufus; "this is Bright Spot, fromtime out of mind the place for strawberries; nobody ever comeshere but to pick them. The vines cover the ground. "

"The sun won't be on it long, " said Elizabeth; "I don't seewhy you call it Bright Spot. "

"You won't often see a brighter spot when the sun _is_ on it, "said Winthrop. "It gets in the shadow of Wut-a-qut-o once in awhile. "

"The grass is kept very fresh here, " said Rufus. "But thestrawberry vines are all over in it. "

So it was proved. The valley was not a smooth level as it hadlooked from the river, but broken into little waves andhollows of ground; in parts, near the woods, a good dealstrewn with loose rocks and grown with low clumpy bushes ofdifferent species of cornus, and buckthorn, and sweetbriar. Inthese nooks and hollows, and indeed over the whole surface ofthe ground the vines ran thick, and the berries, huge, richand rare, pretended to hide themselves, while the whole airwas alive with their sweetness. 

The party landed and scattered with cries of delight far andnear over the valley. Even Elizabeth's composure gave way. Fora little while they did nothing but scatter; to sit still andpick was impossible; for the novelty and richness of the storeseemed made for the eye as much as for anything else, and bethe berries never so red in one place they seemed redder inanother. Winthrop and Asahel, however, were soon steadily atwork, and then little Winifred; and after a time MissCadwallader found that the berries were good for more than tolook at, and Rufus had less trouble to keep in herneighbourhood. But it was a good while before Elizabeth beganto pick either for lip or basket; she stood on the vineyknolls, and looked, and smelled the air, and searched with hereye the openings in the luxuriant foliage that walled in thevalley. At last, making a review of the living members of thepicture, the young lady bethought herself, and set to workwith great steadiness to cover the bottom of her basket. 

In the course of this business, moving hither and thither asthe bunches of red fruit tempted her, and without raising aneye beyond them, she was picking close to one of the partiesbefore she knew whom she was near; and as they were in likeignorance she heard Asahel say, "I wish Rufus would pick -- he does nothing but eat, ever sincehe came; he and Miss Rose. "

"You don't expect _her_ to pick for you, do you?" said Winthrop. 

"She might just as well as for me to pick for her, " saidAsahel. 

"Do you think we'll get enough for mamma, Governor?" saidlittle Winifred in a very sweet, and a little anxious, voice. 

"We'll try, " said her brother. 

"O you've got a great parcel! -- but I have only so many, --Governor?"

"There's more where those came from, Winnie. "

"Here are some to help, " said Elizabeth coming up and emptyingher own strawberries into the little girl's basket. Winifredlooked down at the fresh supply and up into the young lady'sface, and then gave her an "Oh thank you!" of such frankpleasure and astonishment that Elizabeth's energies were atonce nerved. But first of all she went to see what MissCadwallader was about. 

Miss Cadwallader was squatting in a nest of strawberries, withred finger-ends. 

"Rose -- how many have you picked?"

"I haven't the least idea. Aren't they splendid?"

"Haven't you any in your basket?"

"Basket? -- no, -- where is my basket?" said she looking round. "No, to be sure I haven't. I don't want any basket. "

"Why don't you help?"

"Help? I've been helping myself, till I'm tired. Come here andsit down, Bess. Aren't they splendid? Don't you want to rest?"

"No. "

Miss Rose, however, quitted the strawberries and placedherself on a rock. 

"Where's my helper? -- O yonder, -- somebody's got hold of him. Lizzie, -- who'd have thought we should be so well off forbeaux here in the mountains?"

The other's brow and lip changed, but she stood silent. 

"They don't act like farmer's sons, do they? I never shouldhave guessed it if I had seen them anywhere else. Look, Lizzie, -- now isn't he handsome? I never saw such eyes. "

Elizabeth did not look, but she spoke, and the words lacked nopoint that lips could give them. 

"I am thankful, Rose, that my head does not run upon thethings that yours does!"

"What does yours run upon then?" said Rose pouting. "The otherone, I suppose. That's the one you were helping with yourstrawberries just now. I dont think it is the wisest thing Mr. Haye has ever done, to send you and me here; -- it's a pitythere wasn't somebody to warn him. "

"Rose!" -- said the other, and her eyes seemed to lighten, oneto the other, as she spoke, -- "you know I don't like such talk-- I detest and despise it! -- it is utterly beneath me. You mayindulge in all the nonsense you please, and descend to whatyou please; -- but please to understand, _I will not hear it_. "

Miss Cadwallader's eye fairly gave way under the lightning. Elizabeth's words were delivered with an intensity that keptthem quiet, though with the last degree of clear utterance;and turning, as Rufus came up, she gave him a glare of herdark brown eyes that astonished him, and made off with a quickstep to a part of the field where she could pick strawberriesat a distance from everybody. She picked them somehow byinstinct; she did not know what she was doing; her facerivalled their red bunches; and she picked with a kind offury. That being the only way she had of venting herindignation, she threw it into her basket along with thestrawberries. She hadn't worked so hard the whole afternoon. She edged away from the rest towards a wild corner, where amidrocks and bushes the strawberry vines spread rich and rank andthe berries were larger and finer than any she had seen. Shewas determined to have a fine basketful for Winifred. 

But she was unused to such stooping and steady work, and asshe cooled down she grew very tired. She was in a rough grownplace and she mounted on a rock and stood up to rest herselfand look. 

Pretty -- pretty, it was. It was almost time to go home, forthe sun was out of their strawberry patch and the woody wallswere a few shades deeper coloured than they had been; whileover the river, on the other side, the steep rocks of the homepoint sent back a warm glow yet. The hills beyond them stoodin the sun, and in close contrast was the little deep greenpatch of fore-ground, lit up with the white or the gay dressesof the strawberry pickers. The sweet river, a bit of it, inthe middle of the picture, half in sunshine, half in shade. Itwas like a little nest of fairy-land; so laughed the sunshine, so dwelt the shade, in this spot and in that one. Elizabethstood fast. It was bewitching to the eyes. And while shelooked, the shadow of Wut-a-qut-o was creeping over the river, and now ready to take off the warm browns of the rocky point. 

She was thinking it was bewitching, and drinking it in, whenshe felt two hands clasp her by the waist, and suddenly, swiftly, without a word of warning, she was swung off, clearto another rock about two yards distant, and there set down, "all standing. " In bewildered astonishment, that only waitedto become indignation, she turned to see whom she was to beangry with. Nobody was near her but Winthrop, and he haddisappeared behind the rock on which she had just beenstanding. Elizabeth was not precisely in a mood for cooljudgment; she stood like an offended brood-hen, with ruffledfeathers, waiting to fly at the first likely offender. Therest of the party began to draw near. 

"Come Lizzie, we're going home, " said her cousin. 

"I am not, " said Elizabeth. 

"Why?"

"Because I am not ready. "

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing -- only I am not ready. "

"The sun's out of Bright Spot now, Miss Haye, " said Rufus, with a somewhat mischievous play of feature. 

Elizabeth was deaf. 

"Winthrop has killed a rattlesnake!" exclaimed Asahel from therock; -- "Winthrop has killed a rattlesnake!"

And Winthrop came round the bushes bringing his trophy; alarge snake that counted nine rattles. They all pressed round, as near as they dared, to look and admire; all but Elizabeth, who stood on her rock and did not stir. 

"Where was it? where was it?" --

"When I first saw him, he was curled up on the rock very nearto Miss Haye, but he slid down among the bushes before I couldcatch him. We must take care when we come here now, for themate must be somewhere. "

"_I'll_ never come here again, " said Miss Cadwallader. "O come!-- let us go!"

"Did _you_ move me?" said Elizabeth, with the air of a judgeputting a query. 

Winthrop looked up, and answered yes. 

"Why didn't you ask me to move myself?"

"I would, " said Winthrop calmly, -- "if I could have got wordto the snake to keep quiet. "

Elizabeth did not know precisely what to say; her cousin waslooking in astonishment, and she saw the corners of Rufus'smouth twitching; she shut her lips resolutely and followed theparty to the boat. 

The talking and laughing was general among them on the wayhome, with all but her; she was thinking. She even forgot herstrawberries for little Winifred, which she meant to havegiven her in full view of her cousin. She held her basket onher lap, and looked at the water and didn't see the sunset. 

The sun's proper setting was not to be seen, for he went downfar behind Wut-a-qut-o. Wut-a-qut-o's shade was all over theriver and had mounted near to the top of the opposite hills;but from peak to peak of them the sunlight glittered still, and overhead the sun threw down broad remembrancers of wherehe was and where he had been. The low hills in the distantnorth were all in sunlight; as the little boat pulled over theriver they were lost behind the point of Shahweetah, and thelast ray was gone from the last mountain ridge in view. Coolshadows and lights were over the land, a flood of beautyoverhead in the sky. 

It was agreed on all hands that they had been very successful;and little Winifred openly rejoiced over the quantity they hadbrought home for 'mother'; but still Elizabeth did not add herstore, and had nothing to say. When they got to the landing-place, she would stay on the rocks to see how the boat wasmade fast. Winifred ran up to the house with her basket, MissCadwallader went to get ready for supper, Rufus followed inher steps. Asahel and Elizabeth stayed in the sunset glow tosee Winthrop finish his part of the work; and then they walkedup together. Elizabeth kept her position on one side of theoars, but seemed as moody as ever, till they were about halfway from the rocks; then suddenly she looked up intoWinthrop's face and said, "Thank you. I ought to have said it before. "

He bowed a little and smiled, in a way that set Elizabeth athinking. It was not like a common farmer's boy. It spoke himas quiet in his own standing as she was in hers; and yet hecertainly had come home that day in his shirt sleeves, andwith his mower's jacket over his arm? It was very odd. 

"What was it you said that strawberry-place was in the shadowof sometimes?"

"Wut-a-qut-o?"

"What's that?"

"The big mountain over there. _This_ was in the shadow of it alittle while ago. "

"What a queer name! What does it mean?"

"It is Indian. I have heard that it means, the whole name, --'_He that catches the clouds_. '"

"That is beautiful! --"

"You must be tremendously strong, " she added presently, as ifnot satisfied that she had said enough, -- "for you lifted meas if I had been no more than a featherweight. "

"You did not seem much more, " he said. 

"Strong! --" said Asahel --

But Elizabeth escaped from Asahel's exposition of the subject, into her room. 

She had regained her good-humour, and everybody at the tablesaid she had improved fifty per cent. Since her coming toShahweetah. Which opinion Mr. Haye confirmed when he came aday or two afterward. 

CHAPTER X. 

_Cam_. Be advised. _Flo_. I am; and by my fancy: if my reasonWill thereto he obedient, I have reason;If not, my senses, better pleased with madness, Do bid it welcome. WINTER'S TALE. 

The young ladies' summering in the country had begun with goodpromise; there was no danger they would tire of it. Mr. Hayegave it as his judgment that his daughter had come to theright place; and he was willing to spare no pains to keep herin the same mind. He brought up a little boat with him thenext time he came, and a delicate pair of oars; and Elizabethtook to boating with great zeal. She asked for very littleteaching; she had used her eyes, and now she patientlyexercised her arms, till her eyes were satisfied; and afterthat the "Merry-go-round" had very soon earned a right to itsname. Her father sent her a horse; and near every morning herblue habit was fluttering along the roads, to the greatadmiration of the country people who had never seen a longskirt before. And every afternoon, as soon as the sun hidhimself behind the great western mountain, her little whiteboat stole out from the rocks and coasted about under thepoint or lay in the bay, wandering through sunshine and shade;loitering where the north wind blew softly, or resting withpoised oars when the sun was sending royal messages to earth_via_ the clouds. On horseback or in the boat, -- Miss Elizabethwould not take exercise in so common a way as walking, -- shedid honour to the nurture of the fresh air. The thin cheekrounded out; and sallow and pale gave place to the clear richcolour of health. 

Asahel was her general companion in the boat. Sometimes hercousin condescended to enjoy a sail of a summer's evening, butfor the most part Asahel and Elizabeth went alone. MissCadwallader would neither row nor ride, and was very apt toeschew walking, unless a party were going along. 

Over her books Elizabeth luxuriated all the rest of the time. Morning, noon, and night. The labour of talking she left toher cousin, who took to it kindly, and speedily made herselfvery popular. And there was certainly something very pleasantin her bright smile, always ready, and in her lovely face; andsomething pleasant too in her exceeding dainty and prettymanner of dressing. She fascinated the children's eyes, and iftruth be told, more than the children. She seemed to have auniversal spirit of good-humour. She never was so fast in abook but she would leave it to talk to the old or play withthe young; and her politeness was unfailing. Elizabeth gave notrouble, but she seemed to have as little notion of givingpleasure; except to herself. _That_ she did perfectly andwithout stop. For the rest, half the time she hardly seemed toknow what was going on with the rest of the world. 

So the summer wore on, with great comfort to most parties. Perhaps Winthrop was an exception. He had given comfort, if hehad not found it. He had been his mother's secret stand-by; hehad been her fishmonger, her gamekeeper, her head gardener, her man-at-need in all manner of occasions. His own darlingobjects meanwhile were laid upon the shelf. He did his best. But after a day's work in the harvest field, and fishing foreels off the rocks till nine o'clock at night, what time wasthere for Virgil or Graeca Minora? Sometimes he must draw uphis nets in the morning before he went to the field; and thefish must be cleaned after they were taken. Sometimes a halfday must be spent in going after fruit. And whenever the farmcould spare him for a longer time, he was off to the woodswith his gun; to fetch home rabbits at least, if no other gamewas to be had. But all the while his own ground lay waste. Towhomsoever the summer was good, he reckoned it a fruitlesssummer to him. 

In the multitude of their enjoyments of out-door things, thegirls took very naturally to the unwonted ways and usages ofthe country household. The farm living and the farm hoursseemed to have no disgust for them. In the hot weather thedoors often all stood open; and they sat in the keeping-room, and in the kitchen, and in their own room, and seemed to findall pleasant. 

So one night Elizabeth and Mrs. Landholm were alone in thekitchen. It was a cool evening, though in midsummer, and theyhad gathered round the kitchen fire as being the mostagreeable place. The children were long gone to bed; the restof the family had at length followed them; Elizabeth and Mrs. Landholm alone kept their place. The one was darning somedesperate-looking socks; the other, as usual, deep in a book. They had been very still and busy for a long time; and then asElizabeth looked up for a moment and glanced at the stocking-covered hand of her neighbour, Mrs. Landholm looked up; theireyes met. Mrs. Landholm smiled. 

"Do you like anything so well as reading, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Nothing in the world! What _are_ you doing, Mrs. Landholm?"

"Mending -- some of the boys' socks, " she said cheerfully;"farmers are hard upon their feet. "

"Mending -- _that?_" said Elizabeth. "What an endless work!"

"No, not endless, " said the mother quietly. "Thick shoes and agreat deal of stepping about, make pretty hard work withstockings. "

"But, Mrs. Landholm! -- it would be better to buy new ones, than to try to mend such holes. "

Mrs. Landholm smiled again -- a smile of grave and sweet life-wisdom. 

"Did it ever happen to you to want anything you could nothave, Miss Elizabeth?"

"No -- never, " said Elizabeth slowly. 

"You have a lesson to learn yet. "

"I hope I sha'n't learn it, " said Elizabeth. 

"It must be learned, " said Mrs. Landholm gently. "Life wouldnot be life without it. It is not a bad lesson either. "

"It isn't a very pleasant one, Mrs. Landholm, " said Elizabeth. And she went back to her reading. 

"You don't read my book, Miss Elizabeth, " the other remarkedpresently. 

"What is that?"

Mrs. Landholm looked up again, and the look caught Elizabeth'seye, as she answered, "The Bible. "

"The Bible! -- no, I don't read it much, " said Elizabeth. "Why, Mrs. Landholm?"

"Why, my dear? -- I hope you will know some day why, " sheanswered, her voice a little changed. 

"But that is not exactly an answer, Mrs. Landholm, " saidElizabeth with some curiosity. 

Mrs. Landholm dropped her hands and her stocking into her lap, and looked at the face opposite her. It was an honest andintelligent face, very innocent in its ignorance of life andlife-work. 

"What should we do without the Bible?" she asked. 

"Do without it! Why I have done without it all my days, Mrs. Landholm. "

"You are mistaken even in that, " she said; "but, MissElizabeth, do you think you have lived a blameless life allyour life till now? -- have you never done wrong?"

"Why no, I don't think that, -- of course I have, " Elizabethanswered gravely, and not without a shade of displeasure atthe question. 

"Do you know that for every one of those wrong doings yourlife is forfeit?"

"Why no!"

"And that you are living and sitting there, only because JesusChrist paid his blood for your life? -- Your time is boughttime; -- and he has written the Bible to tell you what to dowith it. "

"Am I not to do what I like with my own time?" thoughtElizabeth. The thought was exceeding disagreeable; but beforeshe or anybody had spoken again, the door of the big bed-roomopened gently, and Miss Cadwallader's pretty face peeped out. 

"Are they all gone to bed? -- are they all gone to bed?" shesaid; -- "may I come, Mrs Landholm?"

She was in her dressing-gown, and tripping across the floorwith the prettiest little bare feet in the world, she took achair in the corner of the fireplace. 

"They got so cold, " she said, -- "I thought I would come out andwarm them. How cosy and delightful you do look here. Dear Mrs. Landholm, do stop working. What are you talking about?"

There was a minute's hesitation, and then Elizabeth said, "Of reading the Bible. "

"The Bible! oh why should one read the Bible?" she said, huddling herself up in the corner. "It's very tiresome!"

"Do you ever read it, Miss Rose?"

"I? -- no, indeed I don't. I am sorry, I dare say you willthink me very wrong, Mrs. Landholm. "

"Then how do you know it is tiresome?"

"O I know it is -- I have read it; and one hears it read, youknow; but I never want to. "

Her words grated, perhaps on both her hearers; but neither ofthem answered. 

"There was a man once, " said Mrs. Landholm, "who read it agreat deal; and he said that it was sweeter than honey and thehoney-comb. "

"Who was that?"

"You may read about him if you wish to, " said Mrs. Landholm. 

"But Mrs. Landholm, " said Elizabeth, "do you think it is an_interesting_ book?"

"Not to those who are not interested in the things, MissElizabeth. "

"What things?"

Mrs. Landholm paused a bit. 

"A friend to go with you through life's journey -- a surefriend and a strong one; a home ready at the journey's end;the name and the love of forgiven children, instead of thebanishment of offenders; a clean heart and a right spirit inplace of this sickly and sin-stricken nature! -- a Saviour anda Father instead of a Judge. "

It was impossible to forget the reddening eyes and tremblinglips which kept the words company. Elizabeth found her ownquivering for sympathy; why, she could not imagine. But therewas so much in that face, -- of patience and gladness, ofstrength and weakness, -- it was no wonder it touched her. Mrs. Landholm's eyes fell to her work and she took up her stockingagain and went on darning; but there was a quick motion of herneedle that told how the spirits were moving. 

Elizabeth sat still and did not look at her book. MissCadwallader hugged herself in her wrapper and muttered underher breath something about "stupid. "

"Are your feet warm?" said Elizabeth. 

"Yes. "

"Then come! --"

Within their own room, she shut the door and without speakingwent about with a certain quick energy which she accompaniedwith more than her usual dignified isolation. 

"Who are you angry with now?" said her cousin. 

"Nobody. "

"Yes you are, you are angry with me. "

"It is of no sort of use to be angry with you. "

"Why?"

"Because I believe you could not be wise if you were to try. "

"I think it is my place to be angry now, " said Miss Rose;giving no other indication of it however than a very slightpouting of her under lip. "And all because I said 'stupid!'Well I don't care -- they _are_ all stupid --Rufus was as stupidthis afternoon as he could be; and there is no need, for hecan be anything else. He was as stupid as he could be. "

"What _have_ you to do with Rufus?" said Elizabeth stampingslightly. 

"Just what you have to do with Winthrop -- amuse myself. "

"You know I don't!" said Elizabeth. "How dare you say it! I donot _choose_ to have such things said to me. You _know_, if thatwas all, that Winthrop does not amuse anybody -- nobody eversees him from meal-time to meal-time. You find Rufus veryamusing, and he _can_ talk very well, considering; but nobodyknows whether the other one can be amusing, for ho nevertried, so far as I know. "

"I know, " said her cousin; "they are a stupid set, all ofthem. "

"They are _not_ a stupid set, " said Elizabeth; "there is not astupid one of them, from the father down. They are anythingbut stupid. "

"What does Winthrop do with himself? Rufus isn't so busy. "

"I don't know, " said Elizabeth; "and I am sure I don't care. He goes for eels, I think, every other night. He has beenafter them to-night. He is always after birds or fish orrabbits, when he isn't on the farm. "

"I wonder what people find so much to do on a farm. I shouldthink they'd grow stupid. -- It is funny, " said MissCadwallader as she got into bed, "how people in the countryalways think you must read the Bible. "

Elizabeth lay a little while thinking about it and then fellasleep. She had slept, by the mind's unconscious measurement, a good while, when she awoke again. It startled her to seethat a light came flickering through the cracks of her doorfrom the kitchen. She slipped out of bed and softly andquickly lifted the latch. But it was not the house on fire. The light came from Mrs. Landholm's candle dying in itssocket; beyond the candle, on the hearth, was the mistress ofthe house on her knees. Elizabeth would have doubted even thenwhat she was about, but for the soft whisper of words whichcame to her ear. She shut the door as softly and quicklyagain, and got into bed with a kind of awe upon her. She hadcertainly heard people stand up in the pulpit and makeprayers, and it seemed suitable that other people should bendupon cushions and bow heads while they did so; but that in acommon-roofed house, on no particular occasion, anybody shouldkneel down to pray when he was alone and for his own sake, wassomething that had never come under her knowledge; and it gaveher a disagreeable sort of shock. She lay awake and watched tosee how soon Mrs. Landholm's light would go away; it died, thefaint moonlight stole in through the window unhindered; andstill there was no stir in the next room. Elizabeth watchedand wondered; till after a long half hour she heard a lightstep in the kitchen and then a very light fall of the latch. She sprang up to look at the moon; it had but little risen;she calculated the time of its rising for several nights back, and made up her mind that it must be long past twelve. Andthis a woman who was tired every day with her day's work andhad been particularly tired to-night! for Elizabeth hadnoticed it. It made her uncomfortable. Why should _she_ spendher tired minutes in praying, after the whole house wasasleep? and why was it that Elizabeth could not set her downas a fool for her pains? And on the contrary there grew up inher mind, on the instant, a respect for the whole family thatwrapped them about like a halo. 

One morning when Elizabeth came through the kitchen to mounther horse, Mrs. Landholm was doing some fine ironing. The bluehabit stopped a moment by the ironing-table. 

"How dreadfully busy you are, Mrs. Landholm. "

"Not so busy that I shall not come out and see you start, " sheanswered. "I always love to do that. "

"Winnie, " said Elizabeth putting a bank bill into the littlegirl's hand, "I shall make you my messenger. Will you givethat to the man who takes care of my horse, for I never seehim, and tell him I say he does his work beautifully. "

Winifred blushed and hesitated, and handing the note back saidthat she had rather not. 

"Won't you give it to him!"

The little girl coloured still more. "He don't want it. "

"Keep your money, my dear, " said Mrs. Landholm; "there is nonecessity for your giving him anything. "

"But why shouldn't I give it to him if I like it?" saidElizabeth in great wonderment. 

"It is a boy that works for my father, Miss Haye, " saidWinthrop gravely; "your money would be thrown away upon him. "

"But in this he works for me. "

"He don't know that. "

"If he don't -- Money isn't thrown away upon anybody, that everI heard of, " said Elizabeth; "and besides, what if I choose tothrow it away?"

"You can. Only that it is doubtful whether it would be pickedup. "

"You think he wouldn't take it?"

"I think it is very likely. "

"What a fool! -- Then I shall send away my horse!" saidElizabeth; "for either he must be under obligation to me, or Ito him; and I don't choose the latter. "

"Do you expect to get through the world without being underobligation to anybody?" said Winthrop smiling. 

But Elizabeth had turned, and marching out of the house didnot make any reply. 

"What's the objection to being under obligation, MissElizabeth?" said Mrs. Landholm. Elizabeth was mounting herhorse, in which operation Winthrop assisted her. 

"It don't suit me!"

"Fortune's suits do not always fit, " said Winthrop. "But then--"

"Then what?" --

"She never alters them. "

Elizabeth's eyes fired, and an answer was on her lip, butmeeting the very composed face of the last speaker, as he puther foot in the stirrup, she thought better of it. She lookedat him and asked, "What if one does not choose to wear them?"

"Nothing for it but to fight Fortune, " said Winthrop smiling;-- "or go without any. "

"I would rather go anyhow!" said Elizabeth, -- "than be obligedto anybody, -- of course except to my father. "

"How if you had a husband?" inquired Mrs. Landholm with agood-humoured face. 

It was a turn Elizabeth did not like; she did not answer Mrs. Landholm as she would have answered her cousin. She hesitated. 

"I never talk about that, Mrs. Landholm, " she said a littlehaughtily, with a very pretty tinge upon her cheek; -- "I wouldnot be obliged to _anybody_ but my father; -- never. "

"Why?" said Mrs. Landholm. "I don't understand. "

"Don't you see, Mrs. Landholm, -- the person under obligationis always the inferior. "

"I never felt it so, " she replied. 

Her guest could not feel, what her son did, the strongcontrast they made. One little head was held as if certainlythe neck had never been bowed under any sort of pressure; theother, in its meek dignity, spoke the mind of too noble alevel to be either raised or lowered by an accident. 

"It is another meaning of the word, mother, from that you arcaccustomed to, " Winthrop said. 

Elizabeth looked at him, but nothing was to be gained from hisface. 

"Will you have the goodness to hand me my riding-whip, " shesaid shortly. 

"You will have to be obliged to me for that, " he said as hepicked it up. 

"Yes, " said Elizabeth; "but I pay for this obligation with a'thank you'!"

So she did, and with a bow at once a little haughty and not alittle graceful. It was the pure grace of nature, the veryspeaking of her mind at the moment. Turning her horse's headshe trotted off, her blue habit fluttering and her little headcarried very gracefully to the wind and her horse's motion. They stood and looked after her. 

"Poor child!" said Mrs. Landholm, -- "she has something tolearn. There is good in her too. "

"Ay, " said her son, "and there is gold in the earth; but itwants hands. "

"Yes, " said Mrs. Landholm, -- "if she only fell into good hands--"

It might have been tempting, to a certain class of minds, tolook at that pretty little figure flying off at full trot inall the riot of self-guidance, and to know that it only wantedgood hands to train her into something really fine. But Mrs. Landholm went back to her ironing, and Winthrop to drive hisoxen a field. 

Elizabeth trotted till she had left them out of sight; andthen walked her horse slowly while she thought what had beenmeant by that queer speech of Winthrop's. Then she remindedherself that it was of no sort of consequence what had beenmeant by it, and she trotted on again. 

Asahel as usual came out to hold her bridle when she returned. 

"Asahel, who takes care of my horse?" she said as she wasdismounting. 

"Ain't it handsomely done?" said Asahel. 

"Yes, -- beautifully. Who does it?"

"It's somebody that always does things so, " said Asaheloracularly, a little in doubt how he should answer. 

"Well, who?"

"Don't you know?"

"Of course I don't! Who is it?"

"It's Winthrop. "

"Winthrop!" --

"Yes. He does it. "

Elizabeth's cheeks burnt. 

"Where's that man of yours -- why don't he do it?"

"Sam? -- O he don't know -- I guess he ain't up to it. "

Asahel led away the horse, and Elizabeth went into the house, ready to cry with vexation. But it was not generally herfashion to vent vexation so. 

"What's the matter now?" said her cousin. "What adventure haveyou met with this morning?"

"Nothing at all. "

"Well, what's the matter?"

"Nothing -- only I want to lay my whip about somebody'sshoulders, -- if I could find the right person. "

"Well 'taint me, " said Rose shrinking. "Look here -- I've got adelicious plan in my head -- I'm going to make them take us inthe boat round the bay, after huckleberries. "

"Absurd!"

"What's absurd?"

"That. "

"Why?"

"Who'll take you?"

"No matter -- somebody, I don't know who; -- Rufus. But you'llgo?"

"Indeed I won't. "

"Why?"

"The best reason in the world. I don't want to. "

"But I want you to go -- for my sake, Lizzie. "

"I won't do it for anybody's sake. And Rose -- I think you takea great deal too much of Rufus's time. I don't believe he doeshis duty on the farm, and he can't, if you will call upon himso much. "

"He's not obliged to do what I ask him, " said Rose pouting;"and I'm not going to stay here if I can't amuse myself. Butcome! -- you'll go in the bay after huckleberries?"

"I shall not stir. You must make up your mind to go withoutme. "

Which Rose declared was very disagreeable of her cousin, andshe even shed a few tears; but a rock could not have receivedthem with more stony indifference, and they were soon dried. 

The huckleberry expedition was agreed upon at dinner, Mr. Landholm being, as he always was when he could, veryagreeable. In the mean time Winthrop took the boat and wentout on the bay to catch some fish. 

It was near the time for him to be back again, and the wholeparty were gathered in the keeping-room and in the door-way;Elizabeth and Mrs. Landholm with their respective books andwork, the others, children and all, rather on the expectingorder and not doing much of any thing; when a quick springyfootstep came round the house corner. Not Winthrop's, they allknew; his step was slower and more firm; and Winthrop'sfeatures were very little like the round good-humouredhandsome face which presented itself at the front door. 

"Mr. Herder!" cried the children. But Rose was first in hisway. 

"Miss Cadval-lader!" said the gentleman, -- "I did not expect --Mrs. Landholm, how do you do? -- Miss Elisabet' I did not lookfor this pleasure. Who would have expect' to see you here!"

"Nobody I suppose, " said Elizabeth. "Isn't it pleasant, Mr. Herder?"

There was a great laughing and shaking of hands between them;and then Mr. Herder went again to Mrs. Landholm, and gave thechildren his cordial greeting. And was made to know Rufus. 

"But where is Wint'rop?" said Mr. Herder, after they had donea great deal of talking in ten minutes. 

"Winthrop is gone a fishing. We expect him home soon. "

"Where is he? Tell me where he is gone and I will go after himand bring him back. I know de country. I did not come to seeyou, Miss Elisabet' -- I have come to see my friend Wint'rop. And I do not want to stay in de house, never, while it is sopleasant wizout. "

"But we are going in the bay after huckleberries, " said Rose, -- "won't you go with us, Mr. Herder?"

"After huckle-berry -- I do not know what is that -- yes, I willgo wiz you, and I will go find Wint'rop and bring him home togo too. "

"He is out on the bay, " said Elizabeth; "I'll take you to himin my boat. Come Mr. Herder, -- I don't want you, Rose; I'lltake nobody but Mr. Herder; -- we'll go after him. "

She ran for her bonnet, seized her oars, and drew Mr. Herderwith her down to the rocks. 

It was a soft grey day; pleasant boating at that or at anyhour, the sun was so obscured with light clouds. Elizabethseated Mr. Herder in the stern of the 'Merry-go-round, ' andpulled out lightly into the bay; he very much amused with herwater-craft. 

They presently caught sight of the other boat, moored a littledistance out from the land, behind a point. 

"There he is!" -- said Mr. Herder. "But what is he doing? He isnot fishing. Row your boat soft, Miss Elisabet' -- hush! -- donot speak wiz your -- what is it you call? -- We will catch him-- we have the wind -- unless he be like a wild duck --"

Winthrop's boat lay still upon the sleepy water, -- his fishingrod dipped its end lazily in, -- the cork floated at rest; andthe fisher seated in his boat, was giving his whole attentionseemingly to something in his boat. Very softly and prettyskilfully they stole up. 

He had something of the wild duck about him; for before theycould get more than near at hand, he had looked up, lookedround, and risen to greet them. By his help the boats werelaid close alongside of each other; and while Winthrop and Mr. Herder were shaking hands across them, Elizabeth quietlyleaned over into the stern of the fishing-boat and took up oneor two books which lay there. The first proved to be an ill-bound, ill printed, Greek _and Latin_ dictionary; the other wasa Homer! Elizabeth laid them down again greatly amazed, andwondering what kind of people she had got among. 

"What brings you here now, Mr. Herder?" said Winthrop. "Haveyou come to look after the American Eagle?"

"Ha! -- no -- I have not come to look after no eagle; -- and yetI do not know -- I have come to see you, and I do not know whatyou will turn to be --the eagle flies high, you know. "

Winthrop was preparing to tie the two boats together, and didnot answer. Mr. Herder stepped from the one he was in and tooka seat in Winthrop's. Elizabeth would not leave her own, though she permitted Winthrop to attach it to his and to dothe rowing for both; she sat afar off among her cushions, alone. 

"I am not very gallant, Miss Elisabet', " said the naturalist;"but if you will not come, I will not come back to you. I didnot come to see you this time -- I want to speak to this youngAmerican Eagle. "

And he settled himself comfortably with his back to Elizabeth, and turned to talk to Winthrop, as answering to his strong armthe two boats began to fly over the water. 

"You see, " he said, "I have stopped here just to see you. Youhave not change your mind, I hope, about going to deUniversité?"

"No sir. "

"Goot. In de Université where I am, there is a foundation -- Imean by that, the College has monies, that she is in right tospend to help those students that are not quite rich enough --if they have a leetle, she gives them a leetle more, till theycan get through and come out wiz their studies. ThisUniversité has a foundation; and it is full; but the Presidentis my friend, and he knows that I have a friend; and he saidto me that he would make room for one more, though we are veryfull, and take you in; so that it will cost you very little. Ispeak that, for I know that you could not wish to spend somuch as some. "

It was a golden chance -- if it could but be given to Rufus!That was not possible; and still less was it possible thatWinthrop should take it and so make his brother's casehopeless, by swallowing up all the little means that of rightmust go to set him forward first. There was a strong heavingof motives against each other in Winthrop's bosom. But hisface did not shew it; there was no change in his cool greyeye; after a minute's hesitation he answered, lying on hisoars, "I thank you very much Mr. Herder -- I would do it gladly -- butI am so tied at home that it is impossible. I cannot go. "

"You can not?" said the naturalist. 

"I cannot -- not at present -- my duty keeps me at home. Youwill see me in Mannahatta by and by, " he added with a faintsmile and beginning to row again; -- "but I don't know when. "

"I wish it would be soon, " said the naturalist. "I should liketo have you there wiz me. But you must not give up fordifficulties. You must come?"

"I shall come, " said Winthrop. 

"How would you like this?" said Mr. Herder after pondering alittle. "I have a friend who is an excellent -- what you callhim? -- bookseller -- Would you like a place wiz him, to keephis books and attend to his business, for a while, and so getup by degrees? I could get you a place wiz him. "

"No, sir, " said Winthrop smiling; -- "the eagle never begins bybeing something else. "

"Dat is true, " said the naturalist. "Well -- I wish I could doyou some goot, but you will not let me; -- and I trust you thatyou are right. "

"You are a good friend, sir, " said Winthrop gratefully. 

"Well -- I mean to be, " said the other, nodding his good-humoured head. 

Elizabeth was too far off to hear any of this dialogue; andshe was a little astonished again when they reached the landto see her boatman grasp her friend's hand and give it a veryhearty shake. 

"I shall never forget it, sir, " she heard Winthrop say. 

"I do not wish that, " said the naturalist. "What for shouldyou remember it? it is good for nozing. "

"Is that boy studying Latin and Greek?" said Elizabeth as sheand Mr. Herder walked up to the house together. 

"That boy? That boy is a very smart boy. "

"But is he studying Greek?"

"What makes you ask so?"

"Because there was a Greek book and a dictionary there in theboat with him. "

"Then I suppose he is studying it, " said Mr. Herder. 

Elizabeth changed her mind and agreed to go with the huckle-berry party; but she carried a book with her and sat in acorner with it, seldom giving her eyes to anything beside. 

Yet there was enough on every hand to call them away. The softgrey sky and grey water, the deep heavy-green foliage of thebanks, and the fine quiet outlines of the further mountains, set off by no brilliant points of light and shade, -- made apicture rare in its kind of beauty. Its colouring was not thecold grey of the autumn, only a soft mellow chastening ofsummer's gorgeousness. A little ripple on the water, -- alittle fleckiness in the cloud, -- a quiet air; it was one ofsummer's choice days, when she escapes from the sun's fiercewatch and sits down to rest herself. But Elizabeth's eyes, ifthey wavered at all, were called off by some burst of thenoisy sociability of the party, in which she deigned not toshare. Her cousin, Mr. Herder, Rufus, Asahel, and Winifred, were in full cry after pleasure; and a cheery hunt they madeof it. 

"Miss Elisabet' does look grave at us, " said the naturalist, --"she is the only one wise of us all; she does nothing butread. What are you reading, Miss Elisabet'?"

"Something you don't know, Mr. Herder. "

"O it's only a novel, " said her cousin; "she reads nothing butnovels. "

"That's not true, Rose Cadwallader, and you know it. "

"A novel!" said Mr. Herder. "Ah! -- yes -- that is what theladies read -- they do not trouble themselves wiz ugly bigdictionaries -- they have easy times. "

He did not mean any reproof; but Elizabeth's cheek colouredexceedingly and for several minutes kept its glow; and thoughher eyes still held to the book, her mind had lost it. 

The boat coasted along the shore, down to the head of the bay, where the huckleberry region began; and then drew as close into the bank as possible. No more was necessary to get at thefruit, for the bushes grew down to the very water's edge andhung over, black with berries, though us Asahel remarked, agreat many of them were _blue_. Everybody had baskets, and nowthe fun was to hold the baskets under and fill them from theoverhanging bunches as fast as they could; though in the caseof one or two of the party the more summary way of carryingthe bushes off bodily seemed to be preferred. 

"And this is huckle-berry, " said Mr. Herder, with a bush inhis hand and a berry in his mouth. "Well -- it is sweet -- alittle; -- it is not goot for much. "

"Why Mr. Herder!" said Rose; -- "They make excellent pies, andMrs. Landholm has promised to make us some, if we get enough. "

"Pies!" said the naturalist, -- "let us get a great manyhuckleberry then -- but I am very sorry I shall not be here toeat the pies wiz you. Pull us a little, Wint'rop -- we havepicked everything. Stop! -- I see, -- I will get you some pies!--"

He jumped from the boat and away he went up the bank, througha thick growth of young wood and undergrowth of alder anddogwood and buckthorn and maple and huckleberry bushes. Hescrambled on up hill, and in a little while came down againwith a load of fruity branches, which he threw into the boat. While the others were gathering them up, he stood still nearthe edge of the water, looking abroad over the scene. Thewhole little bay, with its high green border, the furtherriver-channel with Diver's Rock setting out into it, andabove, below, and over against him the high broken horizonline of the mountains; the flecked grey cloud and the ripplygrey water. 

"This is a pretty place!" said the naturalist. "I have seen nosuch pretty place in America. I should love to live here. Ishould be a happy man! -- But one does not live for to behappy, " he said with half a sigh. 

"One doesn't live to be happy, Mr. Herder!" said Elizabeth. "What does one live for, then? I am sure _I_ live to be happy. "

"And I am sure I do, " said Rose. 

"Ah, yes -- you, -- you may, " said the naturalist good-humouredly. 

"When happiness can be found so near the surface, " said Rufuswith a satiric glance at the cover of Elizabeth's book, -- "itwould be folly to go further. "

"What do _you_ live for, Mr. Herder?" said Elizabeth, givingRufus's words a cool go-by. 

"I? -- O I live to do my work, " said the naturalist. 

"And what is that?"

"I live to find out the truth -- to get at de truth. It is forthat I spend my days and my nights. I have found out some -- Iwill find out more. "

"And what is the purpose of finding out this truth, Mr. Herder?" said Rufus; -- "what is _that_ for? doesn't that makeyou happy?"

"No, " said the naturalist with a serious air, -- "it does notmake me happy. I must find it out -- since it is there -- and Icould not be happy if I did not find it; -- but if dere was notruth to be found, I could make myself more happy in some ozerway. "

The fine corners of the young man's mouth shewed that hethought Mr. Herder was a little confused in his philosophy. 

"_You_ think one ought to live to be happy, don't you, Mr. Rufus?" said Miss Rose. 

"No!" said Rufus, with a fire in his eye and lip, and makingat the same time an energetic effort after a difficult branchof huckleberries, -- "no! -- not in the ordinary way!"

"In what way then?" said the young lady with her favouritepout. 

"He has just shewed you, Miss Rose, " said Winthrop; -- "ingetting the highest huckleberry bush. It don't make him happy-- only he had rather have that than another. "

"Let us have your sense of the matter, then, " said hisbrother. 

"But Mr. Herder, " said Elizabeth, "why do you want to find outtruth? -- what is it for?"

"For science -- for knowledge; -- that is what will do goot tothe world and make ozer happy. It is not to live like a man tolive for himself. "

"Then what _should_ one live for, " said Elizabeth a littleimpatiently, -- "if it isn't to be happy?"

"I would rather not live at all, " said Rose, her pretty lipsblack with huckleberries, which indeed was the case with thewhole party. 

"You yourself, Mr. Herder, that is your happiness -- to findout truth, as you say -- to advance science and learning and dogood to other people; you find your own pleasure in it. "

"Yes, Mr. Herder, " chimed in Rose, -- "don't you love flowersand stones and birds and fishes, and beetles, and animals --don't you love them as much as we do dogs and horses? -- don'tyou love that little black monkey you shewed us the otherday?"

"No, Miss Rose, " said the naturalist, -- "no, I do not lovethem -- I do not care for them; -- I love what is _back_ of thosethings; dat is what I want. "

"And that is your pleasure, Mr. Herder?"

"I do not know, " said the puzzled naturalist, -- "maybe it is --if I could speak German, I would tell you; -- Wint'rop, you dosay nozing; and you are not eating huckleberries neizer; --what do you live for?"

"I am at cross-purposes with life, just now, sir. "

"Cross?" -- said the naturalist. 

"Winthrop is never cross, " responded Asahel from behind athick branch of huckleberry. 

"Dat is to the point!" said Mr. Herder. 

"Well, speak to the point, " said Rufus. 

"I think the point is now -- or will be presently -- to gethome. "

"But to the first point -- what should a man live for?"

"It's against the law to commit suicide. "

"Pish!" said Rufus. 

"Come tell us what you think, Wint'rop, " said Mr. Herder. 

"I think, sir, I should live to be happy. "

"You do!" said the naturalist. 

"And I think happiness should be sought in doing all one can, first for oneself, and then for other people. "

"That will do, " said Mr. Herder. "I agree wiz you. "

"_You_ are not apt to do first for yourself, " said Rufus, with atender sort of admission-making. 

"I am not sure that first for oneself, " said the naturalistmusing. 

"Yes sir -- or could one ever do much for the world?"

"Dat is true; you are right!"

"Then at any rate one is to put other people's happinessbefore one's own?" said Elizabeth with a mixed expression ofincredulity and discontent. 

"It does not seem just reason, does it?" said Mr. Herder. 

"It's what nobody acts up to, " said Rose. 

"O Miss Cadwallader, " said Asahel, -- "mother does it always!"

For which he was rewarded with an inexpressible glance, whichlit upon nothing, however, but the huckleberries. 

"Is that your doctrine, Mr. Winthrop?" said Elizabeth. 

"No, " he said smiling, -- "not mine. Will you sit a little morein the corner, Miss Elizabeth? --"

Elizabeth took up her book again, and gave no token ofattention to anything else, good or bad, till the boat nearedthe rocks of the landing at Shahweetah. 

CHAPTER XI. 

Thou art a dew-drop which the morn brings forth, Ill fitted to sustain unkindly shocks, Or to be trailed along the soiling earth. WORDSWORTH. 

One day in September it chanced that the house was leftentirely to the womenkind. Even Asahel had been taken off byhis father to help in some light matter which his strength wasequal to. Rufus and Winthrop were on the upland, busy with thefall ploughing; and it fell to little Winifred to carry themtheir dinner. 

The doors stood open, as usual, for it was still warm weather, and the rest of the family were all scattered at their severaloccupations. Miss Cadwallader on the bed, asleep; Karensomewhere in her distant premises out of hearing; Elizabethsat with her book in the little passage-way by the open frontdoor, screened however by another open door from the keeping-room where Mrs. Landholm sat alone at her sewing. By and bycame in Winifred, through the kitchen. She came in and stoodby the fireplace silent. 

"Well, dear, " said the mother looking up from her work, -- "didyou find them?"

The child's answer was to spring to her side, throw her armsround her neck, and burst into convulsive tears. 

"Winifred!" -- said Mrs. Landholm, putting an arm round thetrembling child, and dropping her work, -- "what ails you, dear? -- tell me. "

The little girl only clung closer to her neck and shook in apassion of feeling, speechless; till the mother's tone becamealarmed and imperative. 

"It's nothing, mother, it's nothing, " she said, clasping herhard, -- "only -- only --"

The words were lost again in what seemed to be uncontrollableweeping. 

"Only what, dear? -- what?"

"Winthrop was crying. "

And having said that, scarce audibly, Winifred gave way andcried aloud. 

"Winthrop crying! -- Nonsense, dear, -- you were mistaken. "

"I wasn't -- I saw him. "

"What was the matter?"

"I don't know. "

"What made you think he was crying?"

"I _saw_ him!" cried the child, who seemed as if she couldhardly bear the question and answer. 

"You were mistaken, daughter; -- he would not have let you seehim. "

"He didn't -- he didn't know I was there. "

"Where were you?"

"I was behind the fence --I stopped to look at him -- he didn'tsee me. "

"Where was he?"

"He was ploughing. "

"What did you see, Winifred?"

"I saw him -- oh mamma! -- I saw him put his hand to his eyes, --and I saw the tears fall --"

Her little head was pressed against her mother's bosom, andmany more tears fell for his than his had been. 

Mrs. Landholm was silent a minute or two, stroking Winifred'shead and kissing her. 

"And when you went into the field, Winifred, -- how was hethen?"

"Just as always. "

"Where was Rufus?"

"He was on the other side. "

Again Mrs. Landholm was silent. 

"Cheer up, daughter, " she said tenderly; -- "I think I knowwhat was the matter with Winthrop, and it's nothing so verybad -- it'll be set right by and by, I hope. Don't cry any moreabout it. "

"What _is_ the matter with him, mamma?" said the child lookingup with eyes of great anxiety and intentness. 

"He wants to read and to learn, and I think it troubles himthat he can't do that. "

"Is that it? But mamma, can't he?" said his sister with a facenot at all lightened of its care. 

"He can't just now very well --you know he must help papa onthe farm. "

"But can't he by and by, mamma?"

"I hope so; -- we will try to have him, " said the mother, whiletears gathered now in her grave eyes as her little daughter'swere dried. "But you know, dear Winnie, that God knows bestwhat is good for dear Governor, and for us; and we must justask him to do that, and not what we fancy. "

"But mother, " said the little girl, "isn't it right for me toask him to let Winthrop go to school and learn, as he wantsto?"

"Yes, daughter, " said the mother, bending forward till herface rested on the little brow upturned to her, and thegathered tears falling, -- "let us thank God that we may askhim anything -- we have that comfort -- 'In everything, byprayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, ' we may make ourrequests known unto him -- only we must be willing after all tohave him judge and choose for us. "

The child clasped her mother's neck and kissed her again andagain. 

"Then I won't cry any more, mamma, now that I know what thematter is. "

But Elizabeth noticed when Winthrop came in at night, how hislittle sister attached herself to his side, and with what aloving lip and longing eye. 

"Your little sister is very fond of you, " she could not helpsaying, one moment when Winifred had run off. 

"Too fond, " he said. 

"She has a most sensitive organization, " said Rufus. "She istoo fond of everything that she loves. "

"She is not too fond of _you_, " thought Elizabeth, as Winifredcame back to her other brother, with some little matter whichshe thought concerned her and him. "'Sensitive organization!'What queer people these are!"

They were so queer, that Elizabeth thought she would like tosee what was the farming work with which their hands werefilled and which swallowed up the daily life of these people;and the next day she proposed to go with Winifred when shewent the rounds again with her baskets of dinner. MissCadwallader was glad of any thing that promised a littlevariety, so she very willingly made one. 

It was a pleasant September day, the great heats gone, agentler state of the air and the light; summer was justfalling gracefully into her place behind the advancing autumn. It was exceeding pleasant walking, through the still air, andElizabeth and her cousin enjoyed it. But little Winifred wasloaded down with two baskets, one in each hand. They went sofor some time. 

"Winnie, " said Elizabeth at last, "give me one of those -- I'llcarry it. "

"O no!" said the little girl looking up in some surprise, --"they're not very heavy -- I don't want any help. "

"Give it to me; you shan't carry 'em both. "

"Then take the other one, " said Winifred, -- "thank you, MissElizabeth -- I'm just going to take this in to father, in thefield here. "

"In the field where? I don't see anybody. "

"O because the corn is so high. You'll see 'em directly. Thisis the bend-meadow lot. Father's getting in the corn. "

A few more steps accordingly brought them to a cleared part ofthe field, where the tall and thick cornstalks were laid onthe ground. There, at some distance, they saw the group ofworkers, picking and husking the yellow corn, the farm wagonstanding by. Little Winifred crept under the fence and went tothem with her basket, and her companions stood at the fencelooking. There were Mr. Landholm, and Asahel, Mr. Doolittleand another man, seen here and there through the rows of corn. Asahel sat by a heap, husking; Mr. Landholm was cutting downstalks; and bushel baskets stood about, empty, or with theiryellow burden shewing above the top. 

"I should think farmer's work would be pleasant enough, " Roseremarked, as they stood leaning over the fence. 

"It looks pretty, " said Elizabeth. "But I shouldn't like topull corn from morning to night; and I don't believe youwould. "

"O, but men have to work, you know, " said Miss Cadwallader. 

Winifred came back to them and they went on their way, butElizabeth would not let her take the basket again. It was apretty way; past the spring where Sam Doolittle had pushedWinthrop in and Rufus had avenged him; and then up the rathersteep woody road that led to the plain of the tableland. Thetrees stood thick, but the ascent was so rapid that they couldonly in places hinder the view; and as the travellers went up, the river spread itself out more broad, and Shahweetah laybelow them, its boundaries traced out as on a map. A morecommanding view of the opposite shore, a new sight of thesouthern mountains, a deeper draught from nature's free cup, they gained as they went up higher and higher. Elizabeth hadseen it often before; she looked and drank in silence; thoughto-day September was peeping between the hills and shaking hissunny hair in the vallies; -- not crowned like the recedingsummer with insupportable brilliants. 

"I am sorry papa is coming so soon!" said Elizabeth, after shehad stood awhile near the top, looking. 

"Why I thought you wanted to go home, " said her cousin. 

"So I do; -- but I don't want to go away from here. "

"What do you want to stay for?"

"It is so lovely! --"

"_What_ is so lovely?" asked Miss Cadwallader with a tone ofmischief. 

Elizabeth turned away and began to walk on, an expression ofgreat disgust upon her face. 

"I wish I was blessed with a companion who had three grains ofwit!" she said. 

Miss Cadwallader's light cloud of ill-humour, it seldom lookedmore, came on at this; and she pouted till they reached thefence of the ploughed field where the young men were at work. Here Elizabeth gave up her basket to Winifred; and creepingthrough the bars they all made for the nearest plough. Ithappened to be Winthrop's. 

"What's the matter?" said he as they came up. "Am I wanted forguard or for oarsman?"

"Neither -- for nothing, " said Elizabeth. "Go on, won't you? Iwant to see what you are doing. "

"Ploughing?" said he. "Have you never seen it?"

He went on and they walked beside him; Winifred laughing, while the others watched, at least Elizabeth did minutely, theprocess of the share in turning up the soil. 

"Is it hard work?" she asked. 

"No, not here; not when the business is understood. "

"Like rowing, I suppose there is a sleight in it?"

"A good deal so. "

"What has been growing here?"

"Corn. "

"And now when you get to the fence you must just turn aboutand make another ridge close along by this one?"

"Yes. "

"Goodness! -- What's going to be sown here?"

"Wheat. "

"And all this work is just to make the ground soft for theseeds!"

"Why wouldn't it do just as well to make holes in the groundand put the seeds in?" said Miss Cadwallader; -- "withouttaking so much trouble?"

"It is not merely to make the ground soft, " said Winthropgravely, while Elizabeth's bright eye glanced at him to markhis behaviour. "The soil might be broken without being sothoroughly turned. If you see, Miss Elizabeth, -- the slicetaken off by the share is laid bottom upwards. "

"I see -- well, what is that for?"

"To give it the benefit of the air. "

"The benefit of the air! --"

"The air has a sort of enriching and quickening influence uponthe soil; -- if the land has time and chance, it can get backfrom the air a great deal of what it lost in the growing ofcrops. "

"The soil loses, then?"

"Certainly; it loses a great deal to some crops. "

"What, for instance?"

"Wheat is a great feeder, " said Winthrop; "so is Indian corn. "

"By its being 'a great feeder', you mean that it takes a greatdeal of the nourishing quality of the soil?"

"Yes. "

"How many things I do not know!" said Elizabeth wistfully. 

In the little pause which ensued, Winifred took her chance tosay, "Here's your dinner, Governor. "

"Then when the ground is ploughed, is there anything else tobe done before it is ready for the wheat?"

"Only harrowing. "

Elizabeth mused a little while. 

"And how much will the wheat be worth, Winthrop, from all thisfield?"

"Perhaps two hundred dollars; or two hundred and fifty. "

"Two hundred and fifty. -- And then the expenses aresomething. "

"Less to us, " said Winthrop, "because we do so much of thelabour ourselves. "

"Here's your dinner, Winthrop, " said Winifred; -- "shall I setit under the tree?"

"Yes -- no, Winifred, -- you may leave it here. "

"Then stop and eat it now, Governor, won't you? -- don't waitany longer. "

He gave his little sister a look and a little smile, that toldof an entirely other page of his life, folded in with theploughing experience; a word and look very different from anyhe had given his questioners. Other indications Elizabeth'seye had caught under 'the tree, ' -- a single large beech treewhich stood by the fence some distance off. Two or three bookslay there. 

"Do you find time for reading here in the midst of yourploughing, Mr. Winthrop?"

"Not much -- sometimes a little in the noon-spell, " heanswered, colouring slightly. 

They left him and walked on to visit Rufus. Elizabeth led nearenough to the tree to make sure, what her keen eye knew prettywell already, that one of the books was the very identical oldbrown-covered Greek and Latin dictionary that she had seen inthe boat. She passed on and stood silent by Rufus's plough. 

"Well, we've come to see you, Rufus, " said Miss Cadwallader. 

"I thought you had come to see my brother, " said he. 

"I didn't come to see either one or the other, " saidElizabeth. "I came to see what you are doing. "

"I hope you are gratified, " said the young man a littletartly. 

"What's the use of taking so much trouble to break up theground?" said Rose. 

"Because, unfortunately, there is no way of doing it withouttrouble, " said Rufus, looking unspoken bright things into thefurrow at his feet. 

"But why couldn't you just make holes in the ground and putthe seed in?"

"For a reason that you will appreciate, Miss Rose, if you willput on your bonnet the wrong way, with the front preciselywhere the back should be. "

"I don't understand, " -- said the young lady, with something ofan inclination to pout, Will's face was so full ofunderstanding. 

"It isn't necessary that you should understand such abusiness, " he said, becoming grave. "It is our fortune to doit, and it is yours to have nothing to do with it, -- which ismuch better. "

"I have the happiness to disagree with you, Mr. Rufus, " saidElizabeth. 

"In what?"

"In thinking that we have nothing to do with it, or that it isnot necessary we should understand it. "

"I don't see the happiness, Miss Elizabeth; for yourdisagreement imposes upon you a necessity which I should thinkbetter avoided. "

"Which ploughs the best, Rufus?" said Rose; -- "you orWinthrop?"

"There is one kind of ploughing, " said Rufus biting his lip, "which Winthrop doesn't understand at all. "

"And you understand them all, I suppose?"

He didn't answer. 

"What is the kind he does not understand, Mr. Rufus?" saidElizabeth. 

"Ploughing with another man's heifer. "

"Why, what's that, Rufus? I don't know what you mean, " saidMiss Cadwallader. 

No more did Elizabeth, and she had no mind to engage thespeaker on unequal terms. She called her cousin off and tookthe road home, leaving Winifred to speak to her brother andfollow at her leisure. 

"How different those two people are, " she remarked. 

"Which one do you like best?"

"Winthrop, a great deal. "

"I know you like him the best, " said her cousin wilfully. 

"Of course you do, for I tell you. "

"_I_ don't. I like the other a great deal the best. "

"He wasn't very glad to see us, " said Elizabeth. 

"Why wasn't he? Yes he was. He was as glad as the other one. "

"The other one didn't care twopence about it. "

"And what did this one care?"

"He cared, --" said Elizabeth. 

"Well, I like he should -- the other one don't care aboutanything. "

"Yes he does, " said Elizabeth. 

"I shall give Mr. Haye a hint --that he had better not send youhere another summer, " said Rose wittily; -- "there is notelling what anybody will care for. I wouldn't have thought itof you. "

"Can't you be sensible about anything!" said Elizabeth, with asort of contemptuous impatience. "If I had anybody else totalk to, I would not give you the benefit of my thoughts. Itell them to you because I have nobody else; and I really wishyou could make up your mind to answer me as I deserve; -- ornot at all. "

"You are a strange girl, " said Miss Cadwallader, when they hadwalked in company with ill-humour as far as the brow of thehill. 

"I am glad you think so. "

"You are a great deal too old for your age. "

"I am not!" said Elizabeth, who shading her eyes with her handhad again stopped to look over the landscape. "I should bevery sorry to think that. You are two years older, Rose, inbody, than I am; and ten years older in spirit, this minute. "

"Does the spirit grow old faster than the body?" said Roselaughing. 

"Yes -- sometimes. -- How pretty all that is!"

'That' meant the wide view, below and before them, of riverand hill and meadow. It was said with a little breath of asigh, and Elizabeth turned away and began to go down the road. 

Winifred gave it as her opinion to her mother privately, afterthey got home, that Miss Haye was a very ill-behaved younglady. 

CHAPTER XII. 

The thing we long for, that we are, For one transcendent moment, Before the Present, poor and bare, Can make its sneering comment. Still through our paltry stir and strifeGlows down the wished Ideal, And Longing moulds in clay what LifeCarves in the marble Real. LOWELL. 

Mr. Haye came the latter part of September to fetch hisdaughter and his charge home; and spent a day or two in goingover the farm and making himself acquainted with the river. Hewas a handsome man, and very comfortable in face and figure. The wave of prosperity had risen up to his very lips, and itsripples were forever breaking there in a succession of easysmiles. He made himself readily at home in the family; with awell-mannered sort of good-humour, which seemed to belong tohis fine broadcloth and beautifully plaited ruffles. Mr. Landholm was not the only one who enjoyed his company. Betweenhim and Rufus and Miss Cadwallader and Mr. Haye, the roundgame of society was kept up with great spirit. 

One morning Mr. Haye was resting himself with a book in hisdaughter's room; he had had a long tramp with the farmer. Rosewent out in search of something more amusing. Elizabeth satover her book for awhile, then looked up. 

"Father, " she said, "I wish you could do something to helpthat young man. "

"What young man?"

"Winthrop Landholm. "

"What does he want help for?"

"He is trying to get an education -- trying hard, I fancy, "said Elizabeth, putting down her book and looking at herfather, -- "he wants to make himself something more than afarmer. "

"Why should he want to make himself anything more than afarmer?" said Mr. Haye without looking off _his_ book. 

"Why would you, sir?"

"I would just as lief be a farmer as anything else, " said Mr. Haye, "if I had happened to be born in that line. It's as gooda way of life as any other. "

"Why, father! -- You would rather be what you are now?"

"Well -- I wasn't born a farmer, " said Mr. Haye conclusively. 

"Then you would have everybody stay where he happens to be!"

"I wouldn't have anything about it, " said Mr. Haye. "That'swhat I want for myself --let other people do what they will. "

"But some people can't do what they will. "

"Well --Be thankful you're not one of 'em. "

"Father, if I can have what I will, I would have you help thisyoung man. "

"I don't know how to help him, child; -- he's not in my way. Ifhe wanted to go into business, there would be something in it, but I have nothing to do with schools and Colleges. "

Elizabeth's cheek lit up with one of the prettiest colours awoman's cheek ever wears, -- the light of generous indignation. 

"I wish _I_ had the means!" she said. 

"What would you do with it?"

"I would help him, somehow. "

"My dear, you could not do it; they would not let you; theirpride would stand in the way of everything of the kind. "

"I don't believe it, " said Elizabeth, the fire of her eyeshining now through drops that made it brighter; -- "I am suresomething could be done. "

"It's just as well undone, " said Mr. Haye calmly. 

"Why, sir?" -- his daughter asked almost fiercely. 

"What put this young fellow's head upon Colleges, and allthat?"

"I don't know, sir! -- how should I?"

"It won't last -- it's just a freak to be a great man and getout of hob-nailed shoes -- he'll get over it; and much betterhe should. It's much better he should stay here and help hisfather, and that's what he's made for. He'll never be anythingelse. "

Mr. Haye threw down his book and left the room; and hisdaughter stood at the window with her heart swelling. 

"He _will_ be something else, and he'll _not_ get over it, " shesaid to herself, while her eyes were too full to let her see asingle thing outside the window. "He is fit for somethingelse, and he will have it, hard or easy, short or long; and Ihope he will! -- and oh, I wish father had done what would befor his honour in this thing! --"

There was a bitter taste to the last sentence, and tears wouldnot wash it out. Elizabeth was more superb than ordinary thatnight at supper, and had neither smiles nor words for anybody. 

A day or two after they were going away. 

"Winthrop, " she said at parting, (not at all by familiarity, but because she did not in common grant them a right to anytitle whatsoever) -- "may I leave you my little Merry-go-round?-- and will you let nobody have the charge of it exceptyourself?"

He smiled and thanked her. 

"'Tisn't much thanks, " she said; meaning thanks' worth. "Itis I who have to thank you. "

For she felt that she could not send any money to the boy whohad taken care of her horse. 

The family party gathered that night round the supper-tablewith a feeling of relief upon several of them. Mr. Landholm'sface looked satisfied, as of a man who had got a difficult jobwell over; Mrs. Landholm's took time to be tired; Winthrop'swas as usual, though remembering with some comfort that therewould not be so many wantings of fish, nor so many calls uponhis strength of arm for boat exercise. Rufus was serious andthoughtful; the children disposed to be congratulatory. 

"It's good I can sit somewhere but on the corner, " saidAsahel, -- "and be by ourselves. "

"It's good I can have _my_ old place again, " said Winifred, "andsit by Governor. "

Her brother rewarded her by drawing up her chair and drawingit closer. 

"I am glad they are gone, for your sake, mamma, " he said. 

"Well, we haven't made a bad summer of it, " said Mr. Landholm. 

His wife thought in her secret soul it had been a busy one. Winthrop thought it had been a barren one. Rufus -- was notready to say quite that. 

"Not a bad summer, " repeated Mr. Landholm. "The next thing isto see what we will do with the winter. "

"Or what the winter will do with us, " said Rufus after amoment. 

"If you like it so, " said his father; "but _I_ prefer the othermode of putting it. I'd keep the upper hand of time always; --I speak it reverently. "

Winthrop thought how completely the summer had got the betterof him. 

"My friend Haye is a good fellow -- a good fellow. I like him. He and I were always together in the legislature. He's asensible man. "

"He is a gentleman, " said Rufus. 

"Ay -- Well, he has money enough to be. That don't always doit, though. A man and his coat aren't always off the samepiece. Those are nice girls of his, too; -- pretty girls. ThatRose is a pretty creature! -- I don't know but I like t'otherone as well in the long run though, -- come to know her. "

"I do -- better, " said Mrs. Landholm. "There is good in her. "

"A sound stock, only grown a little too rank, " said Winthrop. 

"Yes, that's it. She's a little overtopping. Well, there willcome a drought by and by that will cure that. "

"Why sir?" said Rufus. 

"The odds are that way, " said his father. "'Taint a stand-still world, this; what's up to-day is down to-morrow. Mr. Haye may hold his own, though; and I am sure I hope he will --for his sake and her sake, both. "

"He is a good business man, isn't he, sir?"

"There aint a better business man, I'll engage, than he is, inthe whole city of Mannahatta; and that numbers now, -- sixtyodd thousand, by the last census. He knows how to take care ofhimself, as well as any man I ever saw. "

"Then he bids fair to stand?"

"I don't believe anybody bids fairer. He was trying to make abusiness man of you, wa'n't he, the other day?"

"He was saying something about it. "

"Would you like that?"

"Not in the first place, sir. "

"No. Ah well -- we'll see, -- we'll see, " said Mr. Landholmrising up; -- "we'll try and do the best we can. "

What was that? A question much mooted, by different people andin very different moods; but perhaps most anxiously andcarefully by the father and mother. And the end was, that hewould borrow money of somebody, -- say of Mr. Haye, -- and theywould let both the boys go that fall to College. If this werenot the best, it was the _only_ thing they could do; so itseemed to them, and so they spoke of it. How the young menwere to be _kept_ at College, no mortal knew; the father andmother did not; but the pressure of necessity and the strengthof will took and carried the whole burden. The boys must go;they should go; and go they did. 

In a strong yearning that the minds of their children shouldnot lack bread, in the self-denying love that would risk anyhardship to give it them, -- the father and mother found theirway plain if not easy before them. If his sons were to mountto a higher scale of existence and fit themselves for noblerwork in life than he had done, his shoulders must thenceforthbear a double burden; but they were willing to bear it. Shemust lose, not only, the nurtured joys of her hearthstone, butstrain every long-strained nerve afresh to keep them where shecould not see and could but dimly enjoy them; but she waswilling. There were no words of regret; and thoughts of sorrowlay with thoughts of love at the bottom of their hearts, toofast-bound together and too mighty to shew themselves exceptin action. 

The money was borrowed easily, upon a mortgage of the farm. President Tuttle was written to, and a favourable answerreceived. There was a foundation at Shagarack, as well as atMannahatta; and Will and Winthrop could be admitted there onsomewhat easier terms than were granted to those who couldafford better. Some additions were made to their scantywardrobe from Mr. Cowslip's store; and at home unwearied daysand nights were given to making up the new, and renewing andrefurbishing the old and the worn. Old socks were re-toed andrefooted; old trousers patched so that the patch could not beseen; the time-telling edges of collars and wristbands doneover, so that they would last awhile yet; mittens knitted, andshirts made. It was a little wardrobe when all was done; yethow much time and care had been needed to bring it together. It was a dear one too, though it had cost little money; for itmight almost be said to have been made of the heart's gold. Poor Winifred's love was less wise than her mother's, for itcould not keep sorrow down. As yet she did not know that itwas not better to sit at her father's board end than at eitherend of the highest form at Shagarack. She knitted, socks andstockings, all the day long, when her mother did not want her;but into them she dropped so many tears that the wool wassometimes wet with them; and as Karen said, half mournfullyand half to hide her mourning, "they wouldn't want shrinking. "Winthrop came in one day and found her crying in the chimneycorner, and taking the half-knit stocking from her hand hefelt her tears in it. 

"My little Winnie! --" he said, in that voice with which hesometimes spoke his whole heart. 

Winifred sprang to his neck and closing her arms there, weptas if she would weep her life away. And Rufus who had followedWinthrop in, stood beside them, tear after tear fallingquietly on the hearth. Winthrop's tears nobody knew butWinifred, and even in the bitterness of her distress she feltand tasted them all. 

The November days seemed to grow short and drear with deepershadows than common, as the last were to see the boys go offfor Shagarack. The fingers that knitted grew more tremulous, and the eyes that wrought early and late were dim with morethan weariness; but neither fingers nor eyes gave themselvesany holiday. The work was done at last; the boxes were packed;those poor little boxes! They were but little, and they hadseen service already. Of themselves they told a story. Andthey held now, safely packed up, the College fit-out of thetwo young men. 

"I wonder if Shagarack is a very smart place, mamma?" saidWinifred, as she crouched beside the boxes watching thepacking. 

"Why?"

Winifred was silent and looked thoughtfully into the box. 

"Rufus and Governor will not care if it is. "

"They needn't care, " said Asahel, who was also at the box-side. "They can bear to be not quite so smart as other folks. Mr. Haye said he never saw such a pair of young men; and Iguess he didn't. "

Winifred sighed and still looked into the box, with a facethat said plainly _she_ would like to have them smart. 

"O well, mamma, " she said presently, "I guess they will lookpretty nice, with all those new things; and the socks arenice, aren't they? If it was only summer -- nobody can looknicer than Winthrop when he has his white clothes on. "

"It will be summer by and by, " said Mrs. Landholm. 

The evening came at last; the supper was over; and the wholefamily drew together round the fire. It was not a verytalkative evening. They looked at each other more than theyspoke; and they looked at the fire more than they did either. At last Mr. Landholm went off, recommending to all of them togo to bed. Asahel, who had been in good spirits on the matterall along, followed his father. The mother and daughter andthe two boys were left alone round the kitchen fire. 

They were more silent than ever then, for a good space; andfour pair of eyes were bent diligently on the rising andfalling flames. Only Winifred's sometimes wandered to the faceof one or the other of her brothers, but they never couldabide long. It was Mrs. Landholm's gentle voice that broke thesilence. 

"What mark are you aiming at, boys? -- what are you settingbefore you as the object of life?"

"What _mark_, mother?" said Rufus after an instant's pause. 

"Yes. "

"To make something of myself!" he said rising, and with thatfire-flashing nostril and lip that spoke his whole soul atwork. "I have a chance now, and it will go hard but I willaccomplish it. "

The mother's eye turned to her other son. 

"I believe I must say the same, mother, " he replied gravely. "I have perhaps some notion of _doing_, afterwards; but thefirst thing is to be _myself_ what I can be. I am not, I feel, atithe of that now. "

"I agree with you -- you are right, so far, " answered themother, turning her face again to the fire; -- "but in the end, what is it you would do, and would be?"

"Profession, do you mean, mamma?" said Rufus. 

"No, " she said; and he needed not to ask any more. 

"I mean, what is all this for? -- what purpose lies behind allthis?"

"To distinguish myself!" said Rufus, -- "if I can, -- in someway. "

"I am afraid it is no better than that with me, mother, " saidWinthrop; "though perhaps I should rather say my desire is to_be distinguished_. "

"What's the difference?" said his brother. 

"I don't know. I think I feel a difference. "

"I am not going to preach to you now, " said Mrs. Landholm, andyet the slight failing of her voice did it -- how lastingly! --"I cannot, -- and I need not. Only one word. If you sow andreap a crop that will perish in the using, what will you dowhen it is gone? -- and remember it is said of the redeemed, that their works _do follow_ them. Remember that. -- One wordmore, " she said after a pause. "Let me have it to say in thatday, -- 'Of all which thou gavest me have I lost none'! --"

Not preach to them? And what was her hidden face and bowedhead? -- a preaching the like of which they were never to hearfrom mortal voices. But not a word, not a lisp, fell from oneof them. Winifred had run off; the rest hardly stirred; tillMrs. Landholm rose up, and gravely kissing one and the otherprepared to leave the room. 

"Where is Winifred?" said her brother suddenly missing her. 

"I don't know. I am sure she is somewhere praying for you. "

They said no more, even to each other, that night. 

Nor much the next day. It was the time for doing, notthinking. There was not indeed much to do, except to get off;but that seemed a great deal. It was done at last. Mrs. Landholm from the window of the kitchen watched them get intothe wagon and drive off; and then she sat down by the windowto cry. 

Asahel had gone to ride as far as the mountain's foot with hisfather and brothers; and Winifred knelt down beside her motherto lean her head upon her; they could not get near enough justthen. It was only to help each other weep, for neither couldcomfort the other nor be comforted, for a time. Yet thefeeling of the two, like as it seemed outwardly, was farunlike within. In the child it was the spring flood of alittle brook, bringing, to be sure, momentary desolation; inthe mother it was the flow of the great sea, still and mighty. And when it grew outwardly quiet, the same depth was there. 

They got into each other's arms at last, and pressed cheek tocheek and kissed each other many times; but the first word wasMrs. Landholm's, saying, "Come -- we had better go and get tea -- Asahel will be backdirectly. "

Asahel came back in good spirits, having had his cry on theroad, and they all took tea with what cheerfulness they might. But after tea Winifred sat in the chimney corner gazing intothe fire, very still and pale and worn-looking; her sober blueeyes intently fixed on something that was not there. Veryintently, so that it troubled her mother; for Winifred had notstrength of frame to bear strong mind-working. She watchedher. 

"What, mamma?" said the little girl with a half start, as ahand was laid gently and remindingly upon her shoulder. 

"I should rather ask you what, " said her mother tenderly. "Rest, daughter, can't you?"

"I wasn't worrying, mamma. "

"Wa'n't you?"

"I was thinking of 'They have washed their robes and made themwhite in the blood of the Lamb. '"

"Why, dear?"

"I am so glad I can wash mine, mother. "

"Yes -- Why, my dear child?"

"There are so many spots on them. "

Her mother stooped down beside her and spoke cheerfully. 

"What are you thinking of now, Winnie?"

"Only, mamma, I am glad to think of it, " she said, nestlingher sunny little head in her mother's neck. "I wantedyesterday that Will and Governor should have better clothes. "

"Well, Winnie, I wanted it too -- I would have given thembetter if I had had them. "

"But mamma, ought I to have wished that?"

"Why yes, dear Winnie; it is a pleasant thing to havecomfortable clothes, and it is right to wish for them, provided we can be patient when we don't get them. But still Ithink dear Governor and Will will be pretty comfortable thiswinter. We will try to make them so. "

"Yes mamma, --but I wanted them to be _smart_. "

"It is right to be smart, Winnie, if we aren't _too_ smart. "

"I wish I could be always just right, mamma. "

"The rightest thing will be for you to go to sleep, " said hermother, kissing her eyes and cheeks. "I'll be through my workdirectly and then you shall sit in my lap and rest -- I don'twant to sew to-night. Winnie, the good Shepherd will gather mylittle lamb with his arm and carry her in his bosom, if sheminds his voice; and then he will bring her by and by whereshe shall walk with him in white, and there will be no spotson the white any more. "

"I know. Make haste, mother, and let us sit down together andtalk. "

So they did, with Asahel at their feet; but they didn't talkmuch. They kept each other silent and soft companionship, tillWinifred's breathing told that she had lost her troubles insleep on her mother's bosom. 

"Poor little soul! she takes it hard, " said Karen. "She's'most as old as her mother now. "

"You must get her to play with you, Asahel, as much as youcan, " Mrs. Landholm said in a whisper. 

"Why mamma? aint she well?"

"I don't know -- I'm afraid she wont keep so. "

"She's too good to be well, " said Karen. 

Which was something like true. Not in the vulgar prejudice, asKaren understood it. It was not Winifred's goodness whichthreatened her well-being; but the very delicate spirits whichanswered too promptly and strongly every touch; too strong intheir acting for a bodily frame in like manner delicate. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

_Mess_. -- He hath indeed, better bettered expectation, than youmust expect me to tell you how. _Leon_. -- He hath an uncle here in Messina will be very muchglad of it. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 

Mr. Landholm came back in excellent spirits from Shagarack. The boys were well entered, Will Junior and WinthropSophomore, and with very good credit to themselves. This hadbeen their hope and intention, with the view of escaping thecost of one and two years of a college life. President Tuttlehad received them very kindly, and everything was promising;the boys in good heart, and their father a proud man. 

"Aint it queer, now, " he said that evening of his return, ashe sat warming his hands before the blaze, "aint it queer thatthose two fellows should go in like that -- one Junior andt'other Sophomore, and when they've had no chance at allbeforehand, you may say. Will has been a little better, to besure; but how on earth Winthrop ever prepared himself I can'timagine. Why the fellow read off Greek there, and I didn'tknow he had ever seen a word of it. "

"He used to learn up in his room o' nights, father, " saidAsahel. 

"He used to carry his books to the field and study while theoxen were resting, " said Winifred. 

"He did! -- Well, _he'll_ get along. I aint afeard of him. Hewon't be the last man in the College, I guess. "

"I guess not, father, " said Asahel. 

And now the months sped along with slow step, bringing toil-work for every day. It was cheerfully taken, and patientlywrought through; both at Shagarack and in the little valley athome; but those were doing for themselves, and these weretruly doing love's work, for them. All was for them. The cropswere grown and the sheep sheared, that Rufus and Winthropmight, not eat and be clothed, -- that was a trifle, -- but havethe full good of a College education. The burden and the joyof the toilers was the same. There were delightfulspeculations round the fireside about the professions theyoung men would choose; what profound lawyers, what brilliantministers, should come forth from the learned groves ofShagarack; perhaps, the father hinted, -- statesmen. There wereletters from both the boys, to be read and re-read, and lovedand prided in, as once those of Rufus. And clothes came hometo mend, and new and nice knitted socks went now and then toreplace the worn ones; but that commerce was not frequent norlarge; where there was so little to make, it was of necessitythat there should not be too much to mend; and alas! if shirt-bosoms gave out, the boys buttoned their coats over them andstudied the harder. There were wants they did not tell; thosethat were guessed at, they knew, cost many a strain at home;and were not all met then. But they had not gone to Shagarackto be' smart, ' -- except mentally. That they were. 

They were favourites, notwithstanding. Their superiorsdelighted in their intellectual prominence; their fellowsforgave it. Quietly and irresistibly they had won to the headof their respective portions of the establishment, and stayedthere; but the brilliancy and fire of Rufus and the manlinessand temper of his brother gained them the general good-will, and general consent to the place from which it was impossibleto dislodge them. Admiration first followed elder brother, andliking the younger; till it was found that Winthrop was asunconquerable as he was unassuming; as sure to be ready as tobe right; and a very thorough and large respect presently fellinto the train of his deservings. The faculty confided in him;his mates looked up to him. There was happily no danger of anyaffront to Winthrop which might have called Rufus's firedisagreeably into play. And for himself, he was toouniversally popular. If he was always in the foreground, everybody knew it was because he _could_ not be anywhere else. If Winthrop was often brought into the foreground, on greatoccasions, every soul of them knew it was because no otherwould have dignified it so well. And besides, neither Winthropnor Rufus forgot or seemed to forget the grand business forwhich he was there. With all their diversity of manner anddisposition, each was intent on the same thing, -- to do whathe had come there to do. Lasting eminence, not momentary pre-eminence, was what they sought; and that was an ambition whichmost of their compeers had no care to dispute with them. 

"Poor fellows!" said a gay young money-purser; "they areworking hard, I suppose, to get themselves a place in the eyeof the world. "

"Yes sir, " said the President, who overheard this speech; --"and they will by and by be where you can't see them. "

They came home for a few weeks in the summer, to theunspeakable rejoicing of the whole family; but it was a breakof light in a cloudy day; the clouds closed again. Only nowand then a stray sunbeam of a letter found its way through. 

One year had gone since the boys went to College, and it waslate in the fall again. Mr. Underhill, who had been on ajourney back into the country, came over one morning to Mr. Landholm's. 

"Good morning!" said the farmer. "Well, you've got back fromyour journey into the interior. "

"Yes, " said Mr. Underhill, -- "I've got back. "

"How did you find things looking, out there?"

"Middling; -- their winter crops are higher up than yours andmine be. "

"Ay. I suppose they've a little the start of us with the sun. Did you come through Shagarack?"

"Yes -- I stopped there a night. "

"Did you see my boys?"

"Yes -- I see 'em. "

"Well -- what did they say?" said the father, with his eyealive. 

"Well -- not much, " said Mr. Underhill. 

"They were well, I suppose?"

"First-rate -- only Winthrop looked to me as if he was workin'pretty hard. He's poorer, by some pounds, I guess, than he waswhen he was to hum last August. "

"Didn't he look as usual?" said the father with a smotheredanxiety. 

"There wa'n't no other change in him, that I could see, of nokind. I didn't know as Rufus was going to know who I was, atfirst. "

"He hasn't seen much of you for some time. "

"No; and folks lose their memory, " said Mr. Underhill. "I sawthe -- what do you call him? -- the boss of the concern --president! -- President Tuttle. I saw him and had quite a talkwith him. "

"The president! How came you to see him?"

"Well, 'taint much to see a man, I s'pose, -- is it? I took anotion I'd see him. I wanted to ask him how Will and Winthropwas a getting along. I told him I was a friend o' yourn. "

"Well, did you ask him?"

"Yes I did. "

"What did he say?" said Mr. Landholm, half laughing. 

"I asked him how they were getting along. "

"Ay, and what did he answer to that?"

"He wanted to know if Mr. Landholm had any more sons?"

"Was that all?" said the farmer, laughing quite. 

"That was the hull he said, with a kind of kink of his eyethat wa'n't too big a sum for me to cast up. He didn't give meno more satisfaction than that. "

"And what did you tell him -- to his question?"

"I? -- I told him that two such plants took a mighty sight ofroom to grow, and that the hull county was clean used up. "

"You did!" said Mr. Landholm laughing heartily. "Pretty well!-- pretty good! -- Have some tobacco, neighbour?"

"How is it?" said Mr. Underhill taking a bunch gravely. 

"First-rate, -- _I_ think. Try. "

Which Mr. Underhill did, with slow and careful consideration. Mr. Landholm watched him complacently. 

"I've seen worse, " he remarked dryly at length. "Where did youget it, squire?"

"Nowhere short of the great city, neighbour. It came fromMannahatta. "

"Did, hey? Well, I reckon it might. Will you trade?"

"With what?" said Mr. Landholm. 

"Some of this here. "

"With you?"

"Yes. "

"Well -- let's hear, " said the farmer. 

"Don't you think the post ought to be paid?" said Mr. Underhill, diving into some far-down pockets. 

"Why, are you the post?"

"Don't you think that two sealed letters, now, would be wortha leetle box o' that 'ere?"

"Have you brought letters from the boys?"

"Well I don't know who writ 'em, " said Mr. Underhill; -- "theyguv 'em to me. "

Mr. Landholm took the letters, and with a very willing facewent for a 'little box, ' which he filled with the Mannahattatobacco. 

"Old Cowslip don't keep anything like this, " Mr. Underhillsaid as he received it and stowed it coolly away in hispocket. "I mean to shew it to him. "

"Will you stay to dinner, neighbour?"

"No thank 'ee -- I've got to get over the river; and my littlewoman'll have something cooked for me; and if I wa'n't thereto eat it I shouldn't hear the last of my wastefulness. "

"Ay? is that the way she does?" said Mr. Landholm laughing. 

"Something like it. A tight grip, I tell ye!"

And with these words Mr. Underhill took himself out of thehouse. 

"Where's your mother, Asahel? call her and tell her what'shere, " said Mr. Landholm, as he broke one of the seals. 

"Shagarack, Dec. 3, 1810. 

"My dear parents, "I take the opportunity of friend Underhill's going home tosend you a word -- I can't write much more than a word, I'm sobusy. I never drove my plough at home half so industriously asnow I am trying to break up and sow the barren fields of mind. But oh, this is sweeter labour than that. How shall I everrepay you, my dear father and dear mother, for the efforts youare making -- and enduring -- to give me this blessing. I feelthem to my very heart -- I know them much better than from yourwords. And perhaps this poor return of words is all I shallever be able to make you, -- when it seems to me sometimes asif I could spill my very heart to thank you. But if successcan thank you, you shall be thanked. I feel that within mewhich says I shall have it. Tell mother the box came safe, andwas gladly received. The socks &c. Are as nice as possible, and very comfortable this weather; and the mittens, tellWinnie, are like no other mittens that ever were knit; but Iwish I could have hold of the dear little hands that knit themfor a minute instead -- she knows what would come next. 

"You bid me say if I want anything -- sometimes I think I wantnothing but to hear from you a little oftener -- or to see you!-- that would be too pleasant. But I am doing very well, thoughI _do_ want to know that ma is not working so hard. I shallrelieve pa from any further charge of me after this. Iconsulted the President; and he has given me a form in thegrammar school to take care of -- I believe pa knows there is agrammar school connected with the Institution. This will paymy bills, and to my great joy relieve my father from doing soany more. This arrangement leaves me but half of the usualstudy hours (by day) for myself; so you see I have not muchleisure to write letters, and must close. 

"Your affectionate son, "Winthrop Landholm. 

"I don't forget Asahel, though I haven't said a word of him;and give my love to Karen. "

Mr. And Mrs. Landholm looked up with pleasant faces at eachother and exchanged letters. She took Winthrop's and herhusband began upon the other, which was from Rufus. Asahel andWinifred were standing anxiously by. 

"What do they say?"

"You shall hear directly. "

"Does he say any thing about me?" said Winifred. 

But father and mother were deep in the precious despatches, and the answer had to be waited for. 

"Shagarack College, Dec. 1810. 

"My dear friends at home, "This funny little man says he will take letters to you; -- soas it is a pity not to cultivate any good disposition, Governor and I have determined to favour him. But really thereis not much to write about. Our prospects are as bare as yourgarden in November -- nothing but roots above ground or under --some thrown together, and some, alas! to be dug for; only oursare not parsnips and carrots but a particularly tasteless kindcalled _Greek_ roots; with a variety denominated _algebraic_, ofwhich there are quantities. At these roots, or at somebranches from the same, Governor and I are tugging as for dearlife, so it is no wonder if our very hands smell of them. I amsure I eat them every day with my dinner, and _ruminate_ uponthem afterwards. In the midst of all this we are as well asusual. Governor is getting along splendidly; and I am not muchamiss; at least so they say. The weather is pretty stingingthese few days, and I find father's old cloak very useful. Ithink Winthrop wants something of the sort, though he is asstiff as a pine tree, bodily and mentally, and won't own thathe wants any thing. He won't want any thing long, that he canget. He is working _confoundedly_ hard. I beg mamma's pardon -- Iwouldn't have said that if I had thought of her -- and I wouldwrite over my letter now, if I were not short of time, and totell truth, of paper. This is my last sheet, and a villainousbad one it is; but I can't get any better at the littlestorekeeper's here, and that at a horridly high price. 

"As Governor is writing to you, he will give you all thesense, so it is less matter that there is absolutely nothingin this epistle. Only believe me, my dear father and motherand Winnie and Asahel, ever your most dutiful, grateful, andaffectionate son and brother, "Will. Rufus Landholm. 

"My dear mother, the box was most acceptable. "

After being once read in private, the letters were given aloudto the children; and then studied over and again by the fatherand mother to themselves. Winifred was satisfied with themention of her name; notwithstanding which, she sat with avery wistful face the rest of the afternoon. She was longingfor her brother's hand and kiss. 

"Have your brothers' letters made you feel sober, Winnie?"said her mother. 

"I want to see him, mamma! --"

"Who?"

"Governor. --"

It was the utmost word Winifred's lips could speak. 

"But dear Winnie, " said her mother sorrowfully, "it is fortheir good and their pleasure they are away. "

"I know it, mamma, -- I know I am very selfish --"

"I don't think you are, " said her mother. "Winnie, rememberthat they are getting knowledge and fitting themselves to bebetter and stronger men than they could be if they lived hereand learnt nothing. "

"Mamma, " said Winifred looking up as if defining her position, "I don't think it is right, but I can't always help it. "

"We have one friend never far off. "

"Oh mamma, I remember that all the while. "

"Then can't you look happy?"

"Not always, mamma, " said the little girl covering her facequickly. The mother stooped down and put her arms round her. 

"You must ask him, and he will teach you to be happy always. "

"But I can't, mamma, unless I could be right always, " saidpoor Winifred. 

Mrs. Landholm was silent, but kissed her with those softmotherly kisses which had comfort and love in every touch ofthem. Soon answered, for Winifred lifted up her head andkissed her again. 

"How much longer must they be there, mamma?" she asked morecheerfully. 

"Two years, " Mrs. Landholm answered, with a sigh that belongedto what was not spoken. 

"Mamma, " said Winifred again presently, trying not to shewfrom how deep her question came, "aint you afraid Winthropwants something more to wear?"

And Mrs. Landholm did not shew how deep the question went, butshe said lightly, "We'll see about it. We'll get papa to write and make him tellus what he wants. "

"Maybe he won't tell, " said Winifred thoughtfully. "I wish Icould write. "

"Then why don't you set to and learn? Nothing would pleaseGovernor so much. "

"Would it!" said Winifred with a brightened face. 

"Asahel, " she said, as Asahel came in a few minutes after, "mamma says Governor would like nothing so well as to have melearn to write. "

"I knew that before, " said Asahel coolly. "He was talking tome last summer about learning you. "

"Was he! Then will you Asahel? Do you know yourself?"

"I know how to begin, " said Asahel. 

And after that many a sorrowful feeling was wrought intotrammels and pothooks. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

_Bard_. On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!_Nym_. Pray thee, corporal, stay; the knocks are too hot; andfor mine own part, I have not a case of lives: the humour ofit is too hot, that is the very plain-song of it. KING HENRY V. 

"To Mr. Winthrop Landholm, Shagarack College. 

"Dec. 10, 1810. 

"My dear son, "We received yours of the third, per Mr. Underhill, which wasvery gratifying to your mother and myself, as also Will's ofthe same date. We cannot help wishing we could hear a littleoftener, as these are the first we have had for several weeks. But we remember your occupations, and I assure you make dueallowances; yet we cannot help thinking a little more timemight be given to pa and ma. This is a burdensome world, andevery one must bear their own burdens; yet I think it must beconceded it is right for every individual to do what may be inhis power towards making the lot of others pleasanter. This Iam sure you believe, for you act upon it; and you know thatnothing so lightens our load as to know that Will and Governorare doing well. It is a world of uncertainties; and we cannotknow this unless you will tell us. 

"My dear sons, I do not mean to chide you, and I have saidmore on this subject than I had any intention to do. But it isvery natural, when a subject lies so near the heart, that Ishould exceed the allotted bounds. 

"Winthrop, your mother is afraid, from something in Will'sletter, that you are in want of an overcoat. Tell us if youare, and we will do our best to endeavour to supply thedeficiency. I thought you had one; but I suppose it must bepretty old by this time. My dear son, we have all oneinterest; if you want anything, let us know, and if it _can_ behad you know enough of us to know you shall not want it. Wehave not much to spare certainly, but necessaries we will tryto procure; and so long as we need not groan about the presentit is not my way to grumble about the future. We shall getalong, somehow, I trust. 

"I shall send this by post, as I do not know of anyopportunity, and do not think it best to wait for one. "

"Your loving father, "W. Landholm. 

"Winthrop and Will. "

"My dear boys, "It is very late to-night, and I shall not have any time inthe morning, so must scratch a word as well as I can tonight --you know my fingers are not very well accustomed to handlingthe pen. It gives me the greatest pleasure I can have in thisworld when I hear that you are getting along so well -- exceptI could hear one other thing of you, -- and that would be apleasure beyond anything in this world. Let us know everythingyou want -- and we will try to send it to you, and if we can'twe will all want it together. -- We are all well -- Winifredmourns for you all the while, in spite of trying not to do it. What the rest of us do is no matter. I shall send a box, if Ican, before New Year, with some cakes and apples -- write usbefore that, in time, all you want. 

Your mother. "

This double letter, being duly put in the post according toMr. Landholm's promise, in the course of time and the postcame safe to the Shagarack post-office; from whence it wasdrawn one evening by its owner, and carried to a little upperroom where Rufus sat, or rather stood, at his books. There wasnot a great deal there beside Rufus and the books; a littleiron stove looked as if it disdained to make anybodycomfortable, and hinted that much persuasion was not triedwith it; a bed was in one corner, and a deal table in themiddle of the floor, at which Winthrop sat down and read hisletters. 

He was longer over them than was necessary to read them, by agood deal. So Rufus thought, and glanced at him sundry times, though he did not think fit to interrupt him. He lifted hishead at last and passing them over coolly to Rufus, drew _his_book near and opened his dictionary. He did not look up whileRufus read, nor when after reading he began to walk withthoughtful large strides up and down the little room. 

"Governor!" said Rufus suddenly and without looking at him, "sometimes I am half tempted to think I will take Mr. Haye'soffer. "

"Did he make you an offer?"

"He said what was near enough to it. "

"What tempts you, Will?"

"Poverty. It is only, after all, taking a short road insteadof a long one to the same end. "

"The end of what?" said Winthrop. 

"Of painstaking and struggling. "

There was silence, during which Rufus continued his stridesthrough the room, and the leaves of Winthrop's books ever andanon turned and rustled. 

"What do you think of it?"

"Nothing. "

"Why?"

"I don't believe in drinking of a roiled stream because ithappens to be the first one you come to. "

"Not if you are dry?"

"No, -- not unless everything else is, too. "

"But merchandise is a very honourable pursuit, " said Rufus, walking and studying the floor. 

"Certainly. -- Twelve feet is a good growth for dogwood, isn'tit?" said Winthrop gravely, looking up and meeting his coolgrey eye with that of his brother. 

Rufus first stared, and then answered, and then burst into afit of laughter. Then he grew quite grave again and went onwalking up and down. 

"The fact is, " he said a little while after, -- "I don't knowexactly what I am fittest for. "

"You would be fit for anything if you did, " answered hisbrother. 

"Why?"

"You would be an uncommonly wise man. "

"_You_ might be that with very little trouble, for you are thefittest for everything of anybody I know. "

Winthrop studied his books, and Rufus walked perseveringly. 

"You hold to taking up law?"

"I will, when I begin it, " said Winthrop. 

"Where?"

"Where what?"

"Where will you take it up?"

"In Mannahatta. "

"And then you will rise to the top of the tree!" said hisbrother half admiringly, half sadly. 

"That I may catch a glimpse of you in the top of some othertree, " said Winthrop. 

"But this want of money is such a confounded drag!" said Rufusafter a few minutes. 

"Let it drag you up hill, then. A loaded arrow flies bestagainst the wind. "

"Winthrop, I wonder what you are made of!" said Rufus stoppingshort and looking at him and his books. "The toughest, thesturdiest --"

But Winthrop lifted up his face and gave his brother one ofthose smiles, which were somewhat as if the sturdy young ashto which he likened him had of a sudden put forth its flowersand made one forget its strength in its beauty. Rufus stopped, and smiled a little himself. 

"My choice would be engineering, " he said doubtfully. 

"Stick to your choice, " said Winthrop. 

"That's a very good business for making money, " Rufus went on, beginning to walk again; -- "and there is a variety about it Ishould like. "

"Are you in correspondence with Mr. Haye?"

"No. Why?"

"You seem to be adopting his end of life. "

"I tell you, Winthrop, " said Rufus stopping short again, "whatever else you may have is of very little consequence ifyou haven't money with it! You may raise your head like MontBlanc, above the rest of the world; and if you have nothing toshew but your eminence, people will look at you, and go andlive somewhere else. "

"You don't see the snow yet, do you?" said Winthrop, so drylythat Rufus laughed again, and drawing to him his book sat downand left his brother to study in peace. 

The peace was not of long lasting, for at the end of half orthree quarters of an hour Winthrop had another interruption. The door opened briskly and there came in a young man, --hardly that, -- a boy, but manly, well grown, fine and freshfeatured, all alive in spirits and intellect. He came in witha rush, acknowledged Rufus's presence slightly, and drawing astool close by Winthrop, bent his head in yet closerneighbourhood. The colloquy which followed was carried on halfunder breath, on his part, but with great eagerness. 

"Governor, I want you to go home with me Christmas. "

"I can't, Bob. "

"Why?"

Winthrop answered with soft whistling. 

"Why?"

"I must work. "

"You can work there. "

"No I can't. "

"Why not?"

"I must work here. "

"You can work afterwards. "

"Yes, I expect to. "

"But Governor, what have you got to keep you?"

"Some old gentlemen who lived in learned times a great whileago, are very pressing in their desires to be acquainted withme -- one Plato, one Thucydides, and one Mr. Tacitus, forinstance. "

"You'll see enough of them, Governor; -- you don't like thembetter than me, do you?"

"Yes, Bob, -- I expect they'll do more for me than ever youwill. "

"I'll do a great deal for you, Governor, -- I want you to comewith me to Coldstream -- I want you to see them all at home;we'll have a good time. -- Come!" --

"How do you suppose that old heathen ever got hold of such athought as this?" -- said Winthrop composedly; and he read, without minding his auditors --

"tis d'oiden, ei to zên men êi to katthanein, to katthanein de zên ;" *[* Bunyan used to say, "_The Latin I borrow_. " I must follow soillustrious an example and confess, _The Greek is lent_. ]"_Who knows if to live is not to die, and dying but to live_. "

"I should think he had a bad time in this world, " said Bob;"and maybe he thought Apollo would make interest for hisverses in the land of shades. "

"But Plato echoes the sentiment, -- look here, -- and he was nobeliever in the old system. Where do you suppose he got hislight on the subject?"

"Out of a dark lantern. I say, Winthrop, I want light on mysubject -- Will you come to Coldstream?"

"I don't see any light that way, Bob; -- I must stick fast bymy dark lantern. "

"Are you going to stay in Shagarack?"

"Yes. "

"It's a deuced shame! --"

"What do you make of this sentence, Mr. Cool? --"

But Bob declined to construe, and took himself off, with ahearty slap on Winthrop's shoulder, and a hearty shake of hishand. 

"He's so strong, there's no use in trying to fight him intoreason, " he remarked to Rufus as he went off. 

"What do you suppose Bob Cool would make of your Platonicquotation?" said Rufus. 

"What do you make of it?" said Winthrop after a slight pause. 

"Eremitical philosophy! -- Do you admire it?"

"I was thinking mamma would, " said Winthrop. 

That year came to its end, not only the solar but thecollegiate. Rufus took his degree brilliantly; was loaded withcompliments; went to spend a while at home, and then went toMannahatta; to make some preparatory arrangements for enteringupon a piece of employment to which President Tuttle hadkindly opened him a way. Winthrop changed his form in thegrammar school for the Junior Greek class, which happened tobe left without any teacher by the removal of the Greekprofessor to the headship of another College. To this chargehe proved himself fully competent. It made the same breachesupon his time, and gave him rather more amends than his formin the grammar school. And amid his various occupations, Winthrop probably kept himself warm without a new overcoat;for he had none. 

It was difficult at home, by this time, to do more than makeends meet. They hardly did that. The borrowed hundreds were ofnecessity yet unpaid; there was interest on them that must bekept down; and the failure of Rufus and Winthrop from the farmduty told severely upon the profits of the farm; and thatafter it had told upon the energies and strength of the wholelittle family that were left behind to do all that was done. There was never a complaint nor a regret, even to each other;much less to those for whom they toiled; but often there _was_ ashadowed look, a breath of weariness and care, that spoke fromhusband to wife, from parent to child, and nerved -- orunnerved them. Still, Rufus had graduated; he was a splendidyoung man; all, as well as the parents' hearts, knew that; andWinthrop, -- he was never thought of, their minds and speechnever went out to him, but the brows unbent, the lips relaxed, and their eyes said that their hearts sat down to rest. Winthrop? He never could do anything but well; he never hadsince he was a child. He would take his degree now in a fewmonths and he would take it honourably; and then he would beoff to the great city -- that was said with a throe of pain andjoy! -- and there he would certainly rise to be the greatest ofall. To their eyes could he ever be anything else? But theywere as certain of it as Winthrop himself; and Winthrop wasnot without his share of that quality which Dr. Johnsondeclared to be the first requisite to great undertakings;though to do him justice the matter always lay in his mindwithout the use of comparatives or superlatives. And whilethey sat round the fire talking of him, and of Rufus, theimages of their coming success quite displaced the images ofweary days and careful nights with which that success had beenbought. 

It was not however to be quite so speedily attained as theyhad looked for. 

The time of examination came, and Winthrop passed through it, as President Tuttle told his father, "as well as a man could;"and took honours and distinctions with a calm matter-of-factmanner, that somehow rather damped the ardour ofcongratulation. 

"He takes everything as if he had a right to it, " observed agentleman of the company who had been making some flatteringspeeches which seemed to hit no particular mark. 

"I don't know who has a better right, " said the President. 

"He's not so brilliant as his brother, " the gentleman went on. 

"Do you think so? That can only have been because you did notunderstand him, " said the President equivocally. "He willnever flash in the pan, I promise you. "

"But dang it, sir!" cried the other, "it _is_ a littleextraordinary to see two brothers, out of the same family, fortwo years running, take the first honours over the head of thewhole College. What is a man to think, sir?"

"That the College has not graduated two young men with morehonour to herself and them in any two years of my Presidency, sir. Allow me to introduce you to the fortunate father ofthese young gentlemen -- Mr. Landholm. "

This story Mr. Landholm used afterwards often to repeat, withinfinite delight and exultation. 

Rufus was not at Shagarack at this time. Instead thereof camea letter. 

"Mannahatta, Aug. 26, 1812. 

"My dear Governor, "It has cost me more than I can tell you, that I have not beenable to witness your triumph. Nothing could hinder my sharingit. I shared it even before I heard a word of it. I shared itall last week, while the scenes were enacting; but when papa'sletter came, it made an old boy of me -- I would have thrownoff my hat and hurrahed, if I had not been afraid to trustfour walls with my feelings; and I finally took up with thesafer indulgence of some very sweet tears. I told you it costme a great deal to stay away from Shagarack. My sole reasonfor staying was, that it would have cost me more to go. Thefact is, I had not the wherewithal -- a most stupid reason, butfor that very cause, a reason that you cannot argue with. I amjust clearing for the North -- but not, alas! your way -- and I_could_ not take out of my little funds what would carry me toShagarack and back; and back I should have had to come. So Ihave lost what would have been one of the rare joys of mylife. But I shall have another chance. -- This is but your_first_ degree, Governor; -- your initial step towards greatthings; and you are not one to lag by the way. 

"As for me, I am off to the regions of wildness, to see what Ican do with the rocks and the hills of rude Nature -- or whatthey will do with me, which is perhaps nearer the truth. Notvery inviting, after this gay and brilliant city, wherecertainly the society is very bewitching. I have happened tosee a good deal, and some of the best of it. Mr. Haye has beenvery attentive to me, and I believe would really like to renewhis old offer. He lives here _en prince_; with every thing tomake his house attractive _besides_ the two little princesseswho tenant it; and who make it I think the pleasantest housein Mannahatta. _Your_ friend is amazingly improved, though sheis rather more of a Queen than a princess; but the other isthe most splendid little creature I ever saw. They were verygracious to your humble servant. I have seen a good deal ofthem and like them better and better. Herder is charming. Hehas introduced me to a capital set -- men really worth knowing-- they have also been very kind to me, and I have enjoyed themgreatly; -- but from all this I am obliged to break away, -- andfrom you; for I have no more room. I will write you when I getto the N. W. L. 

"P. S. When you come hither, take up your quarters with mylandlord, George Inchbald -- cor. Beaver and Little South Sts. He loves me and will welcome you. Inchbald is an Englishman, with a heart larger than his means, and a very kind widowedsister. "

Winthrop read this letter gravely through, folded it up, andtook hold of the next business in hand. 

He could not go yet to the great city. The future rising stepsto which Rufus looked forward so confidently, were yet faraway. He owed a bill at the tailor's; and had besides one ortwo other little accounts unsettled, which it had beenimpossible to avoid, and was now impossible to leave. Therefore he must not leave Shagarack. The first thing to dowas to clear these hindrances from his way. So he entered hisname as law-reader at the little office of Mr. Shamminy, tosave time, and took a tutorship in the College to earn money. He had the tutorship of the Junior Greek class, which hisfather loved to tell he carried further than ever a class hadbeen carried before; but that was not all; he had a number ofother recitations to attend which left him, with the necessarystudies, scant time for reading law. That little was made themost of and the year was gained. 

All the year was needed to free himself from these cobwebbindings that held him fast at Shagarack. Another Commencementover, his debts paid, he went home; to make a little pause onthat landing-place of life's journey before taking his laststart from it. 

CHAPTER XV. 

I turn to go: my feet are setTo leave the pleasant fields and farms:They mix in one another's armsTo one pure image of regret. TENNYSON. 

That little space of time was an exceeding sweet one. Governorwas at home again, -- and Governor was going away again. Ifanything had been needed to enhance his preciousness, thosetwo little facts would have done it. Such an idea enterednobody's head. He was the very same Winthrop, they all said, that had left them four years ago; only taller, and stronger, and handsomer. 

"He's a beautiful strong man!" said Karen, stopping in the actof rolling her cakes, to peer at him out of the kitchenwindow. "Aint he a handsome feller, Mis' Landholm?"

"Handsome is that handsome does, Karen. "

"Don't he do handsome?" said Karen, flouring her roller. "Hismother knows he does, I wish I knowed my shortcake'd be arterthe same pattern. "

Winthrop pulled off his coat and went into the fields asheartily as if he had done nothing but farming all his days;and harvests that autumn came cheerily in. The corn seemedyellower and the apples redder than they had been for a longtime. Asahel, now a fine boy of fifteen, was good aid inwhatever was going on, without or within doors. Rufus wrotecheerfully from the North, where he still was; and there washardly a drawback to the enjoyment of the little family athome. 

There was one; and as often happens it had grown out of thefamily's greatest delight. Winifred was not the Winifred offormer days. The rosy-cheeked, fat, laughing little roll-aboutof five years old, had changed by degrees into a slim, pale, very delicate-looking child of twelve. Great nervousirritability, and weakness, they feared of the spine, haddisplaced the jocund health and sweet spirits which never knewa cloud. It was a burden to them all, the change; and yet -- sostrangely things are tempered -- the affections mustered roundthe family hearth to hide or repair the damage disease haddone there, till it could scarcely be said to be poorer orworse off than before. There did come a pang to every heartbut Winifred's own, when they looked upon her; but with thatrose so sweet and rare charities, blessing both the giver andthe receiver, that neither perhaps was less blessed than ofold. Winthrop's face never shewed that there was anything athome to trouble him, unless at times when Winifred was notnear; his voice never changed from its cool cheerfulness; andyet his voice had a great deal to say to her, and his faceWinifred lived upon all the while he was at home. He neverseemed to know that she was weaker than she used to be; buthis arm was always round her, or it might be under her, whenever need was; and to be helped by his strength was morepleasant to Winifred than to have strength of her own. 

She was sitting on his knee one day, and they were picking outnuts together; when she looked up and spoke, as if the wordscould not be kept in. 

"What _shall_ I do when you are gone!"

"Help mother, and keep Asahel in spirits. "

Winifred could not help laughing a little at this idea. 

"I wonder if anything could trouble Asahel much, " she said. 

"I suppose he has his weak point -- like the rest of us, " saidWinthrop. 

"_You_ haven't. "

"How do you know?"

"I don't _know_, but I think so, " said Winifred, touching herhand to his cheek, and then kissing him. 

"What's your _weak_ point?"

"They're all over, " said Winifred, with a little change ofvoice; "I haven't a bit of strength about anything. I don'tthink anybody's weak but me. "

"Nobody ought to be weak but you, " said her brother, with nochange in his. 

"I oughtn't to be weak, " said Winifred; "but I can't help it. "

"It doesn't matter, Winnie, " said her brother; "you shall havethe advantage of the strength of all the rest. "

"That wouldn't be enough, " said Winifred, gently leaning herhead upon the broad breast which she knew was hers forstrength and defence. 

"Not, Winnie? -- What will you have?"

"I'll have the Bible, " said the child, her thin intelligentface looking at him with all its intelligence. 

"The Bible, Winnie?" said Winthrop cheerfully. 

"Yes, because there I can get strength that isn't my own, andthat is better than yours, or anybody's. "

"That's true, Winnie; but what do you want so much strengthfor?" he said coolly. 

She looked at him again, a look very hard indeed to bear. 

"O I know, Winthrop, " she said; -- "I want it. -- I want it nowfor your going away. "

Her voice was a little checked, and again she leaned forwardupon him, this time so as to hide her face. 

Winthrop set down the nuts and drew her more close, and hislips kissed the little blue and white temple which was all ofher face he could get at. 

"It's best I should go, Winnie, " he said. 

"O I know you must. "

"I will have a house one of these days and you shall come andkeep it for me. "

She sat up and shook away a tear or two, and laughed, but herspeech was not as jocular as she meant it to be. 

"What a funny housekeeper I should make!"

"The best in the world. You shall study, and I will knit thesocks. "

"O Governor! What do you know about knitting socks?"

"I know who has knit mine ever since I have been atShagarack. "

"Did mamma tell you?" said the child with a bright sharpglance. 

"I found it out. "

"And were they all right? Because I am going to keep on doingit, Governor. "

"Till you come to be my housekeeper. "

"I don't believe that'll ever be, " said Winifred. 

"Why not?"

"It seems so funny, to think of your ever having a house inMannahatta!"

"Will you come, Winnie?"

"O Governor! -- I dont know, " she said, her face full of aworld of uncertainties. 

"What don't you know?"

"I don't know any thing; and you don't. O Governor" -- and sheflung her arms round his neck, and spoke words coined out ofher heart, -- "I wish you were a Christian! --"

For a minute only he did not speak; and then he said calmly inher ear, "I shall be -- I mean to be one, Winnie. "

Her little head lay very still and silent a few minutes more;and when she lifted it she did not carry on the subject;unless the kisses she gave him, only too strong in theirmeaning, might be interpreted. 

"I should feel so much better if you knew somebody inMannahatta, " she said presently. 

"I do. I know Mr. Herder. "

"O yes; but I mean more than that; somebody where you couldstay and be nice. "

"I shall not stay where I cannot be nice. "

"I know that, " said Winifred; "but you don't know anywhere togo, do you?"

"Yes. Uncle Forriner's. "

"Uncle Forriner. -- You don't know him, do you?"

"Not yet. "

"Did you ever see him?"

"No. "

"Maybe you won't like him. "

"Then it will matter the less about his liking me. "

"He can't help that, " said Winifred. 

"You think so?"

"But Rufus didn't stay with him?"

"No -- Mr. Forriner only moved to Mannahatta about a year ago. "

"Have you ever seen Aunt Forriner?"

"Yes -- once. "

"Well -- is she good?"

"I hope so. "

"You don't know, Governor?"

"I don't know, Winnie. "

Winifred waited a little. 

"What are you going to do, Governor, when you first getthere?"

"I suppose the first thing will be to go and examine UncleForriner and see if I like him. "

Winifred laughed. 

"No, no, but I mean business -- what you are going toMannahatta for -- what will be the first thing?"

"To shew myself to Mr. De Wort. "

"Who's he?"

"He is a lawyer in Mannahatta. "

"Do you know where he lives?"

"No, Winnie; but other people do. "

"What are you going to see him for, Governor?"

"To ask him if he will let me read law in his office. "

"Will he want to be paid for it?"

"I don't know. "

"Suppose he should, Governor?"

"Then I will pay him, Winifred. "

"How can you?"

Her brother smiled a little. "My eyes are not far-sightedenough to tell you, Winnie. I can only give you the fact. "

Winifred smiled too, but in her heart believed him. 

"Did you ever see Mr. De Wort?"

"Never. "

"Then what makes you choose him?"

"Because he is said to be the best lawyer in the city. "

Winifred put her fingers thoughtfully through and through theshort dark wavy brown hair which graced her brother's broadbrow, and wondered with herself whether there would not be abetter lawyer in the city before long. And then in a sweetkind of security laid her head down again upon his breast. 

"I'll have a house for you there, by and by, Winnie, " he said, as his arm drew round her. 

"O I couldn't leave mother, you know, " she answered. 

Her mother called her at this instant, and she ran off, leaving him alone. 

He had spoken to her all the while with no change on hiswonted calm brow and lip; but when she left the room he leftit; and wandering down to some hiding place on the rockyshore, where only the silent cedars stood witnesses, he weptthere till his strong frame shook, with what he no more thanthe rocks would shew anywhere else. It never was shewn. He wasjust as he had been. Nobody guessed, unless his mother, thefeeling that had wrought and was working within him; and sheonly from general knowledge of his nature. But the purpose oflife had grown yet stronger and struck yet deeper rootsinstead of being shaken by this storm. The day of his settingoff for Mannahatta was not once changed after it had been oncefixed upon. 

And it came. Almost at the end of November; a true child ofthe month; it was dark, chill, gloomy. The wind bore littleforetokens of rain in every puff that made its way up theriver, slowly, as if the sea had charged it too heavily, or asif it came through the fringe of the low grey cloud which hungupon the tops of the mountains. But nobody spoke of Winthrop'sstaying his journey. Perhaps everybody thought, that the daybefore, and the night before, and so much of the morning, itwere better not to go over again. 

"Hi!" sighed old Karen, as she took the coffee-pot off thehearth and wiped the ashes from it, -- "it's a heavy place forour feet, just this here; -- I wonder why the Lord sends 'em. _He_ knows. "

"Why he sends what, Karen?" said Winifred, taking the coffee-pot from her, and waiting to hear the answer. 

"Oh go 'long, dear, " said the old woman; -- "I was quarrellingwith the Lord's doings, that's all. "

"_He_ knows!" repeated Winnie, turning away and bending her facedown till hot tears fell on the cover of the coffee-pot. Shestopped at the door of the keeping-room and fought the tearswith her little hand desperately, for they were too ready tocome; once and again the hand was passed hard over cheeks andeyes, before it would do and she could open the door. 

"Well, mother, " said Mr. Landholm, coming back from a look atthe weather, -- "let's see what comfort can be got out ofbreakfast!"

None, that morning. It was but a sham, the biscuits andcoffee. They were all feeding on the fruits of life-trials, struggles and cares, past and coming; and though some wildgrown flowers of hope mingled their sweetness with the harshthings, they could not hide nor smother the taste of them. That taste was in Mr. Landholm's coffee; the way in which heset down the cup and put the spoon in, said so; it was inWinthrop's biscuit, for they were broken and not eaten; itseemed to be in the very light, to Winifred's eyes, by thewistful unmarking look she gave to everything the light shinedupon. 

It was over; and Mrs. Landholm had risen from the tea-boardand stood by the window. There Winthrop parted from her, aftersome tremulous kisses, and with only the low, short, "Goodbye, mother!" He turned to meet the arms of his little sister, which held him like some precious thing that they might nothold. It was hard to bear, but he bore it; till she snatchedher arms away from his neck and ran out of the room. Yet shehad not bid him good bye and he stood in doubt, looking afterher. Then remembered Karen. 

He went into the kitchen and shook the old shrivelled handwhich was associated in his memory with many an old act ofkindness, many a time of help in days of need. 

"Good bye, Karen. "

"Well -- good bye, --" said the old woman slowly, and holdinghis hand. "I sometimes wonder what ever you were brought intothe world for, Mr. Winthrop. "

"Why, Karen?"

"Because I aint much better than a fool, " she said, puttingher other hand to her eyes. "But ye're one of the Lord'sprecious ones, Governor; he will have service of ye, whereverye be. "

Winthrop wrung her hand. Quitting her, he saw his sisterwaiting for him at the kitchen door. She let him come withinit, and then holding up her Bible which had hung in one hand, she pointed with her finger to these words where she had itopen; --

"God now commandeth all men everywhere to repent. "

Her finger was under the word '_now_. ' She added nothing, exceptwith her eyes, which went wistfully, searchingly, beggingly, into his; till a film of tears gathered, and the book fell, and her arms went round him again and her face was hid. 

"I know, dear Winnie, " he said softly, stooping to her afterthe silent embrace had lasted a minute. -- "I must go -- kissme. "

There was a great deal in her kiss, of hope and despair; andthen he was gone; and she stood at the window looking afterhim as long as a bit of him could be seen; clearing away thetears from her eyes that she might watch the little blackspeck of the boat, as it grew less and less, further andfurther off down the river. Little speck as it was, he was init. 

The world seemed to grow dark as she looked, -- in two ways. The heavy rain clouds that covered the sky stooped lower downand hung their grey drapery on the mountains more thick anddark. But it did not rain yet, nor till Winifred turnedwearily away from the window, saying that "they had gotthere;" -- meaning that the little black speck on the water hadreached the little white and brown spot on the shore whichmarked the place of Cowslip's Mill. Then the clouds began tofringe themselves off into rain, and Cowslip's Mill was soonhid, and river and hills were all grey under their thickwatery veil. "But Governor will be in the stage, mamma, " saidWinifred. "He won't mind it. "

Poor Winifred! Poor Governor! -- He was not in the stage. Therewas no room for him. His only choice was to take a seat besidethe driver, unless he would wait another day; and he neverthought of waiting. He mounted up to the box, and the stage-coach went away with him; while more slowly and soberly thelittle boat set its head homewards and pulled up through thedriving rain. 

It rained steadily, and all things soon owned the dominationof the watery clouds. The horses, the roads, the rocks, thestage-coach, and the two outsiders, who submitted for a longdistance in like silence and quiet; though with the one it wasthe quiet of habit and with the other the quiet of necessity. Or it might be of abstraction; for Winthrop's mind took littleheed to the condition of his body. 

It was busy with many greater things. And among them thelittle word to which his sister's finger had pointed, lodgeditself whether he would or no, and often when he would not. Now NOW, -- "God NOW commandeth all men everywhere to repent. "It was at the back of Winthrop's thoughts, wherever they mightbe; it hung over his mental landscape like the rain-cloud; hecould look at nothing, as it were, but across the gentleshadows of that truth falling upon his conscience. The rain-drops dimpled it into the water, when the road lay by theriver-side; and the bare tree-stems they were passing, thatsaid so much of the past and the future, said also quietly andsoberly, "NOW. " The very stage-coach reminded him he was on ajourney to the end of which the stage-coach could not bringhim, and for the end of which he had no plans nor nopreparations made. And the sweet images of home said, "_now_ --make them. " And yet all this, though true and real in hisspirit, was so still and so softly defined, that, -- like thereflection of the hills in the smooth water of the river, -- henoted without noting, he saw without dwelling upon it. It wasthe depth of the picture, and his mind chose the strongeroutlines. And then the water ruffled, and the reflection waslost. 

The ride was in dull silence, till after some hours thecoachman stopped to give his horses water; though he remarked, "it was contrary in them to want it. " But after that histongue seemed loosed. 

"Dampish!" he remarked to his fellow-traveller, as he climbedup to his place again and took the reins. 

"Can you stand it?" said Winthrop. 

"Stand what?"

"Being wet through at this rate?"

"Don't signify whether a man's killed one way or another, " wasthe somewhat unhopeful answer. "Come to the same thing in thelong run, I expect. "

"Might as well make as long a run as you can of it. Why don'tyou wear some sort of an overcoat?"

"I keep it -- same way you do yourn. -- No use to spoil a thingfor nothing. There's no good of an overcoat but to hold somuch heft of water, and a man goes lighter without it. As longas you've got to be soaked through, what's the odds?"

"I didn't lay my account with this sort of thing when I setout, " said Winthrop. 

"O _I_ did. I have it about a third of the time, I guess. Thisand March is the plaguiest months in the hull year. They douse up a man. "

Some thread of association brought his little sister's openbook and pointed finger on the sudden before Winthrop, and fora moment he was silent. 

"Yours is rather bad business this time of year, " he remarked. 

"Like all other business, " said the man; "aint much choice. There's a wet and a dry to most things. What's yourn? if I mayask. "

"Wet, " said Winthrop. 

"How? --" said the man. 

"You need only look at me to see, " said Winthrop. 

"Well -- I thought --" said his companion, looking at him again-- "Be you a dominie?"

"No. "

"Going to be? -- Hum! -- Get ap! --" said the driver touching upone of his horses. 

"What makes you think so?" said Winthrop. 

"Can't tell -- took a notion. I can mostly tell folks, whetherthey are one thing or another. "

"But you are wrong about me, " said Winthrop; "I am neither onething nor the other. "

"I'll be shot if you aint, then, " said his friend after takinganother look at him. "Ben't you? -- You're either a dominie ora lawyer -- one of the six. "

"I should like to know what you judge from. Are clergymen andlawyers so much alike?"

"I guess I aint fur wrong, " said the man, with again a glance, a very benign one, of curiosity. "I should say, your eye was alawyer and your mouth a clergyman. "

"You can't tell what a man is when he is as wet as I am, " saidWinthrop. 

"Can't tell what he's goin' to be, nother. Well, if the raindon't stop, we will, that's one thing. "

The rain did not stop; and though the coach did, it was nottill evening had set in. And that was too late. The wet andcold had wrought for more days than one; they brought ondisease from which even Winthrop's strong frame and spiritcould not immediately free him. He lay miserably ill all thenext day and the next night, and yet another twelve hours; andthen finding that his dues paid would leave him but one dollarunbroken, Winthrop dragged himself as he might out of bed andgot into the stage-coach for Mannahatta which set off thatsame evening. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

I reckon this always -- that a man is never undone till he behanged; nor never welcome to a place, till some certain shotbe paid, and the hostess say, welcome. TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. 

What a journey that was, of weariness and pain and strongwill. Unfit, and almost unable to travel, empty of means andresources almost alike, he would go, -- and he was going; andsheer determination stood in the place and filled the want ofall things beside. It was means and resources both; for bothare at the command of him who knows how to command them. Butthough the will stand firm, it may stand very bare of cheeringor helping thoughts; and so did Winthrop's that live-longnight. There was no wavering, but there was some sadness thatkept him company. 

The morning broke as cheerless as his mood. It had rainedduring the night and was still raining, or sleeting, andfreezing as fast as it fell. The sky was a leaden grey; thedrops that came down only went to thicken the sheet of icethat lay upon everything. No face of the outer world could bemore unpromising than that which slowly greeted him, as thenight withdrew her veil and the stealthy steps of the dawnsaid that no bright day was chasing her forward. Fast enoughit lighted up the slippery way, the glistening fences, thefalling sleet which sheathed fields and houses with glare ice. And the city, when they came to it, was no better. It wasworse; for the dolefulness was positive here, which before inthe broad open country was only negative. The icy sheath wasnow upon things less pure than itself. The sleet fell wherecold and cheerlessness seemed to be the natural state ofthings. Few people ventured into the streets, and those fewlooked and moved as if they felt it a sad morning, whichprobably they did. The very horses stumbled along their way, and here and there a poor creature had lost footing entirelyand gone down on the ice. Slowly and carefully picking its wayalong, the stage-coach drew up at last at its pace in CourtSt. 

The disease had spent itself, or Winthrop's excellentconstitution had made good its rights; for he got out of thecoach feeling free from pain, though weak and unsteady as ifhe had been much longer ill. It would have been pleasant totake the refreshment of brushes and cold water, for his firststep; but it must have been a pleasure paid for; so he did notgo into the house. For the same reason he did not agree to theoffer of the stage-driver to carry him and his baggage to theend of his journey. He looked about for some more humble wayof getting his trunk thither, meaning to take the humblest ofall for himself. But porters seemed all to have gone off tobreakfast or to have despaired of a job. None were in sight. Only a man was shuffling along on the other side of the way, looking over at the stage-coach. 

"Here, Jem -- Tom -- Patrick!" -- cried the stage-driver, --"can't you take the gentleman's trunk for him?"

"Michael, at your service, and if it's all one t' ye, " saidthe person called, coming over. "I'm the boy! Will this be thebox?"

"That is it; but how will you take it?" said Winthrop. 

"Sure I'll carry it -- asy -- some kind of a way, " said Michael, handling the trunk about in an unsettled fashion and seemingto meditate a hoist of it to his shoulders. "Where will it go, sir-r?"

"Stop, -- that won't do -- that handle won't hold, " said thetrunk's master. "Haven't you a wheelbarrow here?"

"Well that's a fact, " said Michael, letting the end of thetrunk down into the street with a force that threatened itsfrail constitution; -- "if the handle wouldn't hould, there'dbe no hoult onto it, at all. Here! -- can't you let us have abarrow, some one amongst ye? -- I'll be back with it aforeyou'll be wanting it, I'll engage. "

Winthrop seconded the application; and the wheelbarrow after alittle delay came forth. The trunk was bestowed on it by theunited efforts of the Irishman and the ostler. 

"Now, don't let it run away from you, Pat, " said the latter. 

"It'll not run away from Michael, I'll engage, " said thatpersonage with a capable air, pulling up first his trowsersband and then the wheelbarrow handles, to be ready for astart. "Which way, then, sir, will I turn?"

Winthrop silently motioned him on, for in spite of weakness ofbody and weariness of spirit he felt too nervously inclined tolaugh, to trust his mouth with any demonstrations. Michael andthe wheelbarrow went on ahead and he followed, both taking themiddle of the street where the ice was somewhat broken up, foron the sidewalk there was no safety for anybody. Indeed safetyanywhere needed to be cared for. And every now and then someinvoluntary movement of Michael and the barrow, together withsome equally unlooked-for exclamation of the former, by way ofcomment or explanation, startled Winthrop's eye and ear, andkept up the odd contrast of the light with the heavy in hismind's musings. It had ceased to rain, but the sky was asleaden grey as ever, and still left its own dull look on allbelow it. Winthrop's walk along the streets was a poor emblemof his mind's travelling at the time; -- a painful picking theway among difficulties, a struggle to secure a footing wherefoothold there was not; the uncertain touch and feeling of acold and slippery world. All true, -- not more literally thanfiguratively. And upon this would come, with a momentary stopand push forward of the wheelbarrow, --

"'Faith, it's asier going backwards nor for'ards! -- Which way_will_ I turn, yer honour? is it up or down?"

"Straight ahead. "

"Och, but I'd rather the heaviest wheeling that ever wasinvinted, sooner nor this little slide of a place. -- Here wego! -- Och, stop us! -- Och, but the little carriage has takenme to itself intirely. It was all I could do to run ahint andkeep up wid the same. Would there be much more of the hills togo down, yer honour, the way we're going?"

"I don't know. Keep in the middle of the street. "

"Sure I'm blessed if I can keep any place!" said Michael, whose movements were truly so erratic and uncertain thatWinthrop's mood of thoughtfulness was more than once run downby them. -- "The trunk's too weighty for me, yer honour, -- itwill have its own way and me after it -- here we go! -- Och, itwouldn't turn out if it was for an angel itself. Maybe yerhonour wouldn't go ahead and stop it?"

"No chance, I'm afraid, " said Winthrop, whose mouth wastwitching at the trot of the Irishman's feet after thewheelbarrow. 

"Och, but we'll never get down there!" he said as he paused atthe top of a long slope. "Then I never knew before what a hardtime the carriage has to go after the horses! We'll never getdown there, yer honour?"

"Never's a great word, Michael. "

"It is, sir!"

"I think you can get down there if you try. "

"Very well, sir! -- I suppose I will. "

But he muttered Irish blessings or cursings to himself as hetook up his trowsers and wheelbarrow handles again. 

"Yer honour, do ye think we'll ever keep on our feet till thebottom?"

"If you don't come down the wheelbarrow won't, I think, Michael. "

"Then I suppose we'll both be to come, " said the manresignedly. "Yer honour'll consider the bad way, I expict. "

'His honour' had reason to remember it. They were going downBank St. , where the fall of ground was rather rapid, and thetravel of the morning had not yet been enough to break up thesmooth glare of the frozen sleet. The Irishman and the barrowgot upon a run, the former crying out, "Och, it _will_ go, yerhonour!" -- and as it would go, it chose its own course, whichwas to run full tilt against a cart which stood quietly by thesidewalk. Neither Michael's gravity nor that of thewheelbarrow could stand the shock. Both went over, and theunlucky trunk was tumbled out into the middle of the street. But the days when the old trunk could have stood such usagewere long past. The hasp and hinge gave way, the cover sprang, and many a thing they should have guarded from public eyesflew or rolled from its hiding place out upon the open street. 

Winthrop from higher ground had beheld the overthrow, and knewwhat he must find when he got to the bottom. Two or three pairof the socks little Winnie had knitted for him had bounced outand scattered themselves far and wide, one even reaching thegutter. Some sheets of manuscript lay ingloriously upon thewheelbarrow or were getting wet on the ice. One nicely "doneup" shirt was hopelessly done for; and an old coat hadunfolded itself upon the pavement, and was fearlessly tellingits own and its master's condition to all the passersby. Twoor three books and several clean pockethandkerchiefs lay aboutindifferently, and were getting no good; an old shoe on thecontrary seemed to be at home. A paper of gingercakes, givingway to the suggestions of the brother shoe, had bestowed aquarter of its contents all abroad; and the open face of thetrunk offered a variety of other matters to the curiosity ofwhom it might concern; the broken cover giving but verypartial hindrance. 

The Irishman had gathered himself, and himself only, out ofthe fallen condition in which all things were. 

"Bad luck to the ould thing, then!" -- was his sense of thematter. 

"You needn't wish that, " said Winthrop. 

"Then, yer honour, I wouldn't wish anything better to meself, if I could ha' helped it. If meself had been in the box, Icouldn't ha' taken it more tinder, till we began to go, andthen, plase yer honour, I hadn't no hoult of anything at allat all. "

"Take hold now, then, " said Winthrop, "and set this upstraight; and then see if you can get a sixpenny worth of ropeanywhere. "

The man went off, and Winthrop gathered up his straypossessions from the street and the gutter and with somedifficulty got them in their places again; and then stoodmounting guard over the wheelbarrow and baggage until thecoming of the rope; thinking perhaps how little he had to takecare of and how strange it was there should be any difficultyin his doing it. 

More care, or an evener way, brought them at last, withoutfurther mishap, to Diamond St. , and along Diamond St. To Mr. Forriner's house and store. Both in the same building; largeand handsome enough, at least as large and handsome as itsneighbours; the store taking the front of the ground floor. Mr. Forriner stood in the doorway taking a look at the day, which probably he thought promised him little custom; for hisface was very much the colour of the weather. 

Winthrop stopped the wheelbarrow before the house; went up andnamed his name. 

"Winthrop Landholm!" -- the touch of Mr. Forriner's hand saidnothing at all unless it were in the negative; -- "how d'ye do, sir. Come to make a visit in Mannahatta?"

"No, sir. I have come here to stay. "

"Ah! -- hum. Sister well?"

"Very well, sir. "

"Left home yesterday?"

"No sir -- three days ago. "

"Ah? where have you been?"

"In bed, sir -- caught cold in the rain Tuesday. "

"Tuesday! -- yes, it did rain considerable all along Tuesday. Where were you?"

"By the way, sir. "

"Just got here, eh? -- bad time. "

"I could not wait for a good one. "

"What are you calculating to do here?"

"Study law, sir. "

"Law! -- hum. Do you expect to make money by that?"

"If I don't, I am afraid I shall not make money by anything, "said Winthrop. 

"Hum! -- I guess there aint much money made by the law, " saidMr. Forriner taking a pinch of snuff. "It's a good trade tostarve by. How long have you to study?"

"All the time I have to live, sir. "

"Eh? -- and how do you expect to live in the meantime?"

"I shall manage to live as long as I study. "

"Well I hope you will -- I hope you will, " said Mr. Forriner. "You'll come in and take breakfast with us?"

"If you will allow me, sir. "

"You haven't had breakfast yet?"

"No sir, nor supper. "

"Well, I guess wife's got enough for you. If that's your boxyou'd better get the man to help you in with it. You can setit down here behind the door. "

"Is it the right place, sir?" inquired Michael as Winthropcame out to him. 

"No" said Winthrop. "But you may help me in with the trunk. "

Michael was satisfied that he had the right money, anddeparted; and Winthrop followed Mr. Forriner through a narrowentry cut off from the store, to a little back room, which wasthe first of the domestic premises. Here stood a table, andMrs. Forriner; a hard-featured lady, in a muslin cap likewisehard-featured; there was a "not-give-in" look, very marked, inboth, cap and lady. A look that Winthrop recognized at once, and which her husband seemed to have recognized a great while. 

"Mrs. Forriner!" said that gentleman to his nephew. "My dear, this is Cousin Winthrop Landholm -- Orphah's son. "

"How do you do, sir?" said Mrs. Forriner's eyes and cap; hertongue moved not. 

"Just come in town, " pursued her husband; "and has come totake breakfast with us. "

"Have you come in to stay, cousin? or are you going back againto the North?"

"I am not going back at present -- I am going to stay, " saidWinthrop. 

The lady was standing up, waiting the instant arrival ofbreakfast, or not enough at ease in her mind to sit down. Thetable and room and furniture, though plain enough and evenmean in their character, had notwithstanding a sufficient lookof homely comfort. 

"You didn't like it up there where you were?" she went on, changing the places of things on the table with a dissatisfiedair. 

"Up where, ma'am?"

"O this is not Rufus, -- this is Winthrop, my dear, " said Mr. Forriner. "Cousin Winthrop has just come down from -- I forget-- from home. What does brother Landholm call his place, cousin?"

"We sometimes call it after our mountain, 'Wut-a-qut-o. '"

How sweet the syllables seemed in Winthrop's lips!

"_What?_" put in the lady. 

Winthrop repeated. 

"I should never remember it. -- Then this is another cousin?"she remarked to Mr. Forriner; -- "and not the one that was herebefore?"

"No, my dear. It is Rufus that is in the country up Northsomewhere -- Cousin Winthrop is coming here to be a lawyer, hetells me. "

"Will you sit up, cousin?" said the lady somewhat dryly, aftera minute's pause, as her handmaid set a Britannia metal tea-pot on the board. The meaning of the request being that heshould move his chair up to the table, Winthrop did so; for todo the family justice he had sat _down_ some time before. 

"How will your mother do without you at home?" inquired Mrs. Forriner, when she had successfully apportioned the milk andsugar in the cups. 

"I have not been at home for three years past. "

"Has she other sons with her?"

"Not another so old as myself. "

"It's pretty hard on her, aint it, to have her two eldest gooff?"

"Where have you been these three years?" put in UncleForriner. 

"At Shagarack, sir. "

"Ah! -- Brother Landholm is bringing up all his sons to becivilians, it seems. "

Winthrop was not very clear what his questioner meant; but asit was probable Mr. Forriner himself was in the same conditionof darkness, he refrained from asking. 

"What's at Shagarack?" said Mrs. Forriner. 

"A College, my dear. "

"College! -- Have you just come to the city, cousin?"

"He caught cold in the rain last Tuesday and has been lying byever since, and only got in town this morning. "

"Have you got a place to stay?"

"Not yet, ma'am. I have been but two hours here. "

"Well, you had better see to that the first thing, and comehere and take dinner -- that'll give you a chance. You'lleasily find what you want. "

"Not this morning, I think, unless it is to be found very nearby, " said Winthrop; "for my feet would hardly carry me ahundred yards. "

"You see, he's weak yet, " put in Mr. Forriner. 

"Didn't you walk here, cousin?" said the lady. 

"Unfortunately, I did, ma'am; for I have not strength to walkanywhere else. "

"O well, you can go up stairs and lie down and get some rest;you'll be better by afternoon I dare say. Will you haveanother cup of tea?"

But Winthrop declined it. 

"He don't look right smart, " said Mr. Forriner. "I reckonhe'll have to go to bed for a while. Cousin, if you'll come upstairs, I'll shew you a place where you can sleep. "

They went up accordingly. 

"Mr. Forriner --" called his wife from the bottom of the stairswhen he and Winthrop had reached the top -- "Mr. Forriner! --the _end_ room -- put him in the end room. "

"Yes -- it isn't very big, but you won't mind that to take anap in, " said Mr. Forriner, opening the door and usheringWinthrop in. 

Where he left him; and what secrets Winthrop's pillow knewwere known to none but his pillow. But the morning was not alllost in sleep; and home's fair images did come most sweetabout him before sleep came at all. 

He was called to dinner, but chose sleep rather, and sleptwell all the afternoon. Towards evening he roused himself, andthough feeling very little strength to boast of, he dressedhimself and went out. 

The day had changed. A warmer temperature had thawed off thethin sleet, and the pavements were drying. The rain-cloud ofthe morning was broken up and scattering hither and thither, and through the clefts of it the sun came blinking in upon theworld. The light was pleasant upon the wet streets and thelong stacks of building and the rolling clouds; and the changein the air was most soothing and mild after the morning'sharsh breath. Winthrop tasted and felt it as he walked up thestreet; but how can the outer world be enjoyed by a man towhom the world is all outer? It only quickened his sense ofthe necessity there was he should find another climate for hismind to live in. But his body was in no state to carry himabout to make discoveries. He must care for that in the firstplace. After some inquiries and wandering about, he at lastmade his way into Bank St. And found an eating-house, verynear the scene of his morning's disaster. Winthrop had veryfew shillings to be extravagant with; he laid down two of themin exchange for a small mutton chop and some bread; and then, somewhat heartened, set out upon his travels again, crossingover to the west side of the city. He felt glad, as he went, that his mother -- and his little sister -- did not know at thatmoment how utterly alone and foundationless he and hisundertaking were standing in the place he had chosen for thescene of his labours and the home of his future life. Yet hecorrected himself. Not 'foundationless, ' while his strong willstood unmoved and untouched by circumstance. Let that not beconquered, it would surely be conqueror, in the long run; andhe determined it should have as long a run as was necessary. He could not help the coming to his mind, as he slowly walkedup Beaver St. , of his mother's recipe against disappointment, and the conversation had about it years before; and the words, "Whatsoever he doeth shall prosper, " as Rufus's voice hadgiven them, came back fresh and with a moment's singular doubtand yearning touching their faithfulness. Himself, in thatflash of light, he saw to be weak, and not strong. What if itshould be so indeed? "_Whatsoever he doeth_ -- SHALL PROSPER. "Upon the uncertainty of human things, upon the tumult of humandifficulties and resolves, the words came like a strangebreath of peace, from somewhere unknown, but felt to be aregion of health and strength. Yet the qualifications to takethe promise were not in Winthrop's hand; to seek them seemedto be a one side of his purpose; he left them on one side, andwent on. 

He was bending his steps towards the meeting of Beaver andLittle South Sts. , the sole point of light which he knew inthe city. It seemed to him that rather less of the sun's cheergot into Diamond St. Than anywhere else. Bank St. Was aheartsome place in comparison. He made his way slowly upBeaver St. Looking for Little South, and passing what to himwere a great many streets without finding that one. As he drewnear still another, his eye was taken with a man standing onthe sidewalk before the corner house; a tall, personable, clean-looking man; who on his part looked first steadily atWinthrop and then came down to meet him, laughing and holdingout his hand before he got near. 

"How do you do?" was his first cordial salutation. -- "It's Mr. Landholm! -- I knew it! -- I knew you, from your likeness toyour brother. We've been looking for you. Come in, come in!How is your brother, Mr. Landholm?"

Winthrop was taken by surprise and could hardly say. 

"I knew you as far off as I could see you -- I said to myself, 'That's Mr. Landholm!' I am very glad to see you, sir. You'vejust got here?"

"This morning. But what right have I to be expected?"

"O we knew you were coming. Your room's ready for you -- emptyand waiting, and we've been waiting and lonesome too, eversince Mr. William went away. How _is_ Mr. William, Mr. Landholm?"

"Well, sir, and full of kindly remembrances of you. "

"Ah, he's not forgotten here, " said Mr. Inchbald. "He won't beforgotten anywhere. Here's my sister, Mr. Landholm, -- mysister, Mrs. Nettley. -- Now, my dear sir, before we sit down, tell me, -- you haven't any other place to stay?"

"I have not, Mr. Inchbald, indeed. "

"Then come up and see what we have to give you, before westrike a bargain. Doll -- won't you give us a cup of tea by thetime we come down? Mr. Landholm will be the better of therefreshment. You have had a tiresome journey this weather, Mr. Landholm?"

As they mounted the stairs he listened to Winthrop's accountof his illness, and looked at him when they got to the top, with a grave face of concern it was pleasant to meet. They hadcome up to the very top; the house was a small andinsignificant wooden one, of two stories. 

"This is your room, " said Mr. Inchbald, opening the door ofthe front attic, -- "this is the room your brother had; it'snot much, and there's not much in it; but now my dear friend, _till_ you find something better, will you keep possession ofit? and give us the pleasure of having you? -- and one thingmore, will you speak of pay when you are perfectly at leisureto think of it, and not before, or never, just as it happens;-- will you?"

"I'll take you at your word, sir; and you shall take me atmine, when the time comes. "

"_That_ I'll do, " said Mr. Inchbald. "And now it's a bargain. Shake hands, -- and come let's go down and have some tea. --Doll, I hope your tea is good to-night, for Mr. Landholm isfar from well. Sit down -- I wish your brother had the otherplace. "

That tea was a refreshment. It was served in the little backroom of the first floor, which had very much the seeming ofbeing Mrs. Nettley's cooking room too. The appointments wereon no higher scale of pretension than Mrs. Forriner's, yetthey gave a far higher impression of the people that usedthem; why, belongs to the private mystery of cups and saucersand chairs, which have an odd obstinate way of their own oftelling the truth. "Doll" was the very contrast to the lady ofthe other tea-table. A little woman, rather fleshy, in a closecap and neat spare gown, with a face which seemed a compoundof benevolent good-will, and anxious care lest everybodyshould not get the full benefit of it. It had known care ofanother kind too. If her brother had, his jovial, healthy, hearty face gave no sign. 

After tea Winthrop went back to Diamond St. 

"We didn't wait for you, " said Mr. Forriner as he came in, --"for we thought you didn't intend probably to be back to tea. "

"What success have you had?" inquired his better half. 

"I have had tea, ma'am, " said Winthrop. 

"Have you found any place?"

"Or the place found me. "

"You have got one! -- Where is it?"

"In Beaver St. -- the place where my brother used to be. "

"What's the name?" said Mr. Forriner. 

"Inchbald. "

"What is he?" asked Mrs. Forriner. 

"An Englishman -- a miniature painter by profession. "

"I wonder if he makes his living at that?" said Mrs. Forriner. 

"What do you have to pay?" said her husband. 

"A fair rent, sir. And now I will pay my thanks for storageand take away my trunk. "

"To-night?" said Mr. Forriner. 

"Well, cousin, we shall be glad to see you sometimes, " saidMrs. Forriner. 

"At what times, ma'am?" said Winthrop. 

He spoke with a straightforward simplicity which a littledaunted her. 

"O, " she said colouring, "come when you have an hour to spare-- any time when you have nothing better to do. "

"I will come then, " he said smiling. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Now he weighs time, Even to the utmost grain. KING HENRY V. 

"Mannahatta, Dec. -- 1813. 

"My dear friends at home, "I am as well and as happy as I can be anywhere away from you. That to be sure is but a modicum of happiness and goodcondition -- very far from the full perfection which I haveknown is possible; but you will all be contented, will younot, to hear that I have so much, and _that I have no more?_ Idon't know -- I think of your dear circle at home -- and thoughI cannot wish the heaven over your heads to be a whit lessbright, I cannot help wishing that you may miss oneconstellation. You can't have any more than that from poorhuman nature -- selfish in the midst of its best generosity. And yet, mother and Winifred, your faces rise up to shame me;and I must correct my speech and say _man's_ nature; I dobelieve that some at least of your side of the world are madeof better stuff than mine. 

"'All are not such. '

"But you want to hear of me rather than of yourselves, and Icome back to where I began. 

"I went to see Mr. De Wort the day after I reached here. Ilike him very well. He received me politely, and veryhandsomely waived the customary fee ($250) and admitted me tothe privileges of his office upon working terms. So I amworking now, for him and for myself, as diligently as I everworked in my life -- in a fair way to be a lawyer, Winnie. Byday engrossing deeds and copying long-winded papers, about thequarrels and wrongs of Mr. A. And Mr. B. -- and at nightdigging into parchment-covered books, a dryer and barrenersoil than any near Wut-a-qut-o or on the old mountain itself, and which must nevertheless be digged into for certain dry andmusty fruits of knowledge to be fetched out of them. I am toobusy to get the blues, but when I go out to take an exercisewalk now and then at dusk or dawn, I do wish I could transportmyself to the neighbourhood of that same mountain, and handlethe axe till I had filled mother's fireplace, or take a turnin the barn at father's wheat or flax. I should accomplish agood deal before you were up; but I wouldn't go away withoutlooking in at you. 

"I am in the same house where Rufus lived when he was inMannahatta, with his friend Mr. Inchbald; and a kinder friendI do not wish for. He is an Englishman -- a fine-looking andfine-hearted fellow -- ready to do everything for me, andputting me upon terms almost too easy for my comfort. He is aminiature painter, by profession, but I fear does not makemuch of a living. That does not hinder his being as generousas if he had thousands to dispose of. His heart does not takecounsel with his purse, nor with anything but his heart. Helives with a widowed sister who keeps his house; and she is askind in her way as he is in his, though the ways aredifferent. I am as much at home here as I can be. I haveRufus's old room; it is a very pleasant one, and if there isnot much furniture, neither do I want much. It holds my bedand my books; and my wardrobe at present does not require veryextensive accommodations; and when I am in the middle of oneof those said parchment-covered tomes, it signifies verylittle indeed what is outside of them or of me, at the moment. So you may think of me as having all I desire, so far as Imyself am concerned; for my license and my use of it, must beworked and waited for. I shall not be a _great_ lawyer, dearWinnie, under three years at least. 

"For you all, I desire so much that my heart almost shuts upits store and says nothing. So much that for a long time, itmay be, I can have no means of helping you to enjoy. Dearfather and mother, I hope I have not on the whole lessenedyour means of enjoyment by striking out this path for myself. I trust it will in the end be found to be the best for us all. I have acted under the pressure of an impulse that seemedstrong as life. I _could_ do no other than as I have done. Yet Ican hardly bear to think of you at home sometimes. Dear Winnieand Asahel, our images rise up and lie down with me. Asahelmust study hard every minute of time he can get. And Winnie, you must study too every minute that it does not tire you, andwhen mother does not want you. And write to me. That will doyou good, and it will do me good too. 

"Give my love to Karen. 

"Yours all, faithfully, "Winthrop Landholm. 

"P. S. -- I have seen nobody yet but Mr. Herder. "

When Winthrop went to put this letter in the post, he drew outthe following:

"To Winthrop Landholm, Esq. :

At Mr. George Inchbald's, "Cor. Beaver and Little South Sts. , Mannahatta. 

"I am so tired, Governor, with the world and myself to-night, that I purpose resting myself at your expense, -- in otherwords, to pour over all my roiled feelings from my own heartinto yours, hoping benevolently to find my own therebycleared. What will be the case with yours, I don't like tostop to think; but incline to the opinion, which I have formany years held, that _nothing can roil it_. You are infinitelybetter than I, Governor; you deserve to be very much happier;and I hope you are. The truth is, for I may as well come toit, -- I am half sick of my work. I can see your face fromhere, and know just what its want of expression expresses. Butstop. You are not in my place, and don't know anything aboutit. You are qualifying yourself for one of the first literaryprofessions -- and it is one of the greatest matters of joy tome to think that you are. You are bidding fair to stand, whereno doubt you will stand, at the head of society. Nothing isbeyond your powers; and your powers will stop short of nothingwithin their reach. I know you, and hug myself (not having youat hand) every day to think what sort of a brother I have got. 

"Governor, I have something in me too, and I am just now in aplace _not_ calculated to develope or cultivate the finer partof a man's nature. My associates, without an exception, areboors and donkeys, not unfrequently combining the agreeableproperties of both in one anomalous animal yclept a clown. With them my days, for the greater part, are spent; and mynights in a series of calculations almost equallyextinguishing to any brightness of mind or spirit. Theconsequence is I feel my light put out! -- not hid under abushel, but absolutely quenched in its proper existence. Ifelt so when I began to write this letter; but by dint oflooking steadily for so long a time towards you, I perceive areflection of light and warmth coming back upon me andbeginning to take effect upon my own tinder, whereby I gatherthat it is capable of being ignited again. Seriously, Winthrop, I am sick of this. _This_ was not what we left homefor. I suppose in time, and with business enough, one mightmake money in this way, but money is not our object in life. It cannot satisfy me, and I trust not you. What shall I do? Imust finish this piece of work -- that will keep me in thewilds and fastnesses of this beautiful region (for it is asuperb country, Winthrop; nature goes far here to make up forthe want of all other discoursers whatever. I have sometimesfelt as if she would make a poet of me, would I, nold I, ) thefinishing of my work here will detain me in the North at leasttill June or July of the coming summer; perhaps August. Andthen it is intimated to me my services would be acceptable outWest -- somewhere near Sawcusto. I have a great mind to come toMannahatta -- perhaps take a tutorship till something betteroffers -- Herder said I would have no sort of difficulty ingetting one, or at least he said what amounted to that -- andperhaps, eventually, enter the political line. I am undecided, except in my disapprobation and dislike of what and where Inow am. I have half an inclination to study law with you. Itis hard to do anything with Fortune's wheel when one is at thevery bottom; and the jade seems to act as if you were a dragupon her. And it is hard that you and I should be at oppositesides of the world while we are both tugging at said wheel. Isometimes think we could work to more advantage nearertogether; we could work with somewhat more comfort. I am inexile here. Write me as soon as you can. 

"My pleasantest thoughts are of you. Herder is as good as hecan be, and you are his favourite; you will presently have thebest literary society, through his means. You don't speak ofHaye. Don't you go there? You had better, Winthrop; -- you mayfind a short cut to the top of Fortune's wheel through thefront door of his house. At any rate, there are two verypretty girls there and a number of other pleasant things, withwhich you will do well to make yourself acquainted, comethereafter what may. I wrote to them at home a week or twoago. 

W. Landholm. 

"P. S. Isn't Inchbald a good fellow?"

The next post went out with the answer. 

"To William Landholm, Esq. , North Lyttleton, Sassafras Co. 

"My dear Rufus, "Stick to your choice. Go West, and do _not_ come here. Do notbe discouraged by the fact of making money. And don't try toturn Fortune's wheel by force, for it will break your arms. 

"Yours ever, "Winthrop Landholm. "

Winthrop did not tell them at home that he was giving lessonsin the classics several hours daily, in order to live while hewas carrying on his own studies; nor that, to keep the burdenof his kind hosts, as well as his own burden, from growing anyheavier, he had refused to eat with them; and was keepinghimself in the most frugal manner, partly by the help of achop-house, and partly by the countenance and support of avery humble little tin coffee-pot and saucepan in his ownattic at home. Mr. Haye's front door he had never entered, andwas more than indifferent where or what it led to. 

"Why for do you not come to your friend, Mr. Haye, ever?" saidMr. Herder to him one day. 

"I am short of time, Mr. Herder. "

"Time! -- But you come to see me?"

"I have time for that. "

"I am glad of it, " said the naturalist, "for there is noperson I like to see better come into my room; but ozer peoplewould like to see you come in too. "

"I am not sure of that, Mr. Herder. "

"I am sure, " said his friend looking kindly at him. "You areworking too much. "

"I can't do that, sir. "

"Come wiz me to Mr. Haye to-night!"

"No sir, thank you. "

"What for do you say that?"

"Because it is kind in you to ask me, " said Winthrop smiling. 

"You will not let nobody be of no use to you, " said thenaturalist. 

Winthrop replied by a question about a new specimen; and thewhole world of animate nature was presently buried in thebowels of the earth, or in the depths of philosophy, whichcomes to about the same thing. 

But it fell out that same day that Winthrop, going into thechop-house to fit himself for hard work with a somewhat betterdinner than usual, planted himself just opposite a table whichfive minutes after was taken by Mr. Haye. It happened thenthat after the usual solitary and selfish wont of such places, the meals were near over before either of the gentlemen foundout he had ever seen the other. But in the course of Mr. Haye's second glass of wine, his eye took a satisfied fit ofroving over the company; and presently discovered something ithad seen before in the figure and face opposite to him and inthe eye which was somewhat carelessly running over the columnsof a newspaper. Glass in hand Mr. Haye rose, and the nextinstant Winthrop felt a hand on his shoulder. 

"Mr. Landholm -- isn't it? I thought so. Why, I've been on thepoint of coming to look after you this last fortnight past, Mr. Landholm, but business held me so tight by the button --I'm very glad to meet you -- Will you join me? --"

"Thank you, sir -- I must not; for business holds me by thehand at this moment. "

"A glass of wine?"

"Thank you sir, again. "

"You will not?"

"No, sir. I have no acquaintance in that quarter, and do notwish to be introduced. "

"But my dear Mr. Landholm! -- are you serious?"

"Always, sir. "

"Most extraordinary! -- But can't you be persuaded? I think youare wrong. "

"I must abide the consequences, I am afraid. "

"Well, stay! -- Will you come to my house to-night and let megive you some other introductions?"

"I cannot refuse that, sir. "

"Then come up to tea. How's your father? --"

So Winthrop was in for it, and went about his afternoonbusiness with the feeling that none would be done in theevening. Which did not make him more diligent, because itcould not. 

Mr. Haye's house was near the lower end of the Parade, and oneof the best in the city. It was a very handsome room in whichWinthrop found the family; as luxuriously fitted up as thefashion of those times permitted; and the little groupgathered there did certainly look as if all the business ofthe world was done without them, and a good part of it _for_them; so undoubtedly easy and comfortable was the flow oftheir laces and the sweep of their silk gowns; so questionlessof toil or endurance was the position of each little figureupon soft cushions, and the play of pretty fingers withdelicate do-nothing bobbins and thread. Rose was literallyplaying with hers, for the true business of the hour seemed tobe a gentleman who sat at her feet on an ottoman, and who wasintroduced to Winthrop as Mr. Satterthwaite. Elizabethaccording to her fashion sat a little apart and seemed to beearnestly intent upon some sort of fine net manufacture. Theythree were all. 

Winthrop's reception was after the former manner; from Roseextremely and sweetly free and cordial; from Elizabeth graveand matter-of-fact. She went back to her net-work; and Rosepresently found Mr. Satterthwaite very interesting again, andwent back to him, so far as looks and talk were concerned. Winthrop could but conclude that he was not interesting, forneither of the ladies certainly found him so. He had anexcellent chance to make up his mind about the whole party;for none of them gave him any thing else to do with it. 

Rose was a piece of loveliness, to the eye, such as one wouldnot see in many a summer day; with all the sweet flush ofyouth and health she was not ill-named. Fresh as a rose, fresh-coloured, bright, blooming; sweet too, one would say, for a very pretty smile seemed ever at home on the lips; -- tosee her but once, she would be noted and remembered as a mostrare picture of humanity. But Winthrop had seen her more thanonce. His eye passed on. 

Her cousin had changed for the better; though it might be onlythe change which years make in a girl at that age, rather thanany real difference of character. She had grown handsomer. Thecheek was well rounded out now, and had a clear healthy tinge, though not at all Rose's white and red. Elizabeth's colouronly came when there was a call for it and then it camepromptly. And she was not very apt to smile; when she did, itwas more often with a careless or scornful turn, or full andbright with a sense of the ludicrous; never a loving orbenevolent smile, such as those that constantly graced Rose'spretty lip. Her mouth kept its old cut of grave independence, Winthrop saw at a glance; and her eye, when by chance shelifted it and it met his, was the very same mixture ofcoolness and fire that it had been of old; the fire forherself, the coolness for all the rest of the world. 

She looked down again at her netting immediately, but the lookhad probably reminded her that nobody in her father's housewas playing the hostess at the moment. A disagreeable reminderit is likely, for she worked away at her netting morevigorously than ever, and it was two or three minutes beforeher eyes left it again to take note of what Rose and Mr. Satterthwaite were thinking about. Her look amused Winthrop, it was so plain an expression of impatient indignation thatthey did not do what they left her to do. But seeing they werea hopeless case, after another minute or two of pulling at hernetting, she changed her seat for one on his side of the room. Winthrop gave her no help, and she followed up her duty movewith a duty commonplace. 

"How do you like Mannahatta, Mr. Landholm?"

"I have hardly asked myself the question, Miss Haye. "

"Does that mean you don't know?"

"I cannot say that. I like it as a place of business. "

"And not as a place of pleasure?"

"No. Except in so far as the pushing on of business may bepleasure. "

"You are drawing a distinction in one breath which youconfound in the next, " said Elizabeth. 

"I didn't know that you would detect it, " he said with a halfsmile. 

"Detect what?"

"The distinction between business and pleasure. "

"Do you think I don't know the difference?"

"You cannot know the difference, without knowing the things tobe compared. "

"The things to be compared! --" said she, with a good look athim out of her dark eyes. "And which of them do you think Idon't know?"

"I supposed you were too busy to have much time for pleasure, "he said quietly. 

"It is possible to be busy in more ways than one, " saidElizabeth, after a minute of not knowing how to take him up. 

"That is just what I was thinking. "

"What are _you_ busy about, Mr. Landholm, in this place ofbusiness?"

"I am only learning my trade, " he answered. 

"A trade! -- May I ask what?" she said, with another surprisedand inquisitive look. 

"A sort of cobbling trade, Miss Elizabeth -- the trade of thelaw. "

"What does the law cobble?"

"People's name and estate. "

"_Cobble?_" said Elizabeth. "What is the meaning of 'cobble?'"

"I don't recollect, " said Winthrop. "What meaning do you giveit, Miss Haye?"

"I thought it was a poor kind of mending. "

"I am afraid there is some of that work done in theprofession, " said Winthrop smiling. "Occasionally. But it isthe profession and not the law that is chargeable, for themost part. "

"I wouldn't be a lawyer if that were not so, " said Elizabeth. "I wouldn't be a _cobbler_ of anything. "

"To be anything else might depend on a person's faculties. "

"I don't care, " said Elizabeth, -- "I _would_ not be. If I couldnot mend, I would let alone. I wouldn't cobble. "

"What if one could neither mend nor let alone?"

"One would have less power over himself than I have, or thanyou have, Mr. Landholm. "

"One thing at least doesn't need cobbling, " he said with asmile. 

"I never heard such a belittling character of the profession, "she went on. "Your mother would have given it a very differentone, Mr. Landholm. She would have told you, 'Open thy mouth, judge' -- what is it? -- 'and plead the cause of the poor. '"

Whether it were the unexpected bringing up of his mother'sname, or the remembrance of her spirit, something procuredMiss Elizabeth a quick little bright smile of answer, verydifferent from anything she had had from Winthrop before. Sodifferent, that her eyes went down to her work for severalminutes, and she forgot everything else in a sort of wonder atthe change and at the beauty of expression his face could puton. 

"I didn't find those words myself, " she added presently; -- "afoolish man was shewing me the other day what he said was myverse in some chapter of Proverbs; and it happened to bethat. "

But Winthrop's answer went to something in her former speech, for it was made with a little breath of a sigh. 

"I think Wut-a-qut-o is a pleasanter place than this, MissHaye. "

"O, so do I! -- at least -- I don't know that it signifies muchto me what sort of a place I am in. If I can only have thethings I want around me, I don't think I care much. "

"How many things do you want to be comfortable?"

"O, -- books, -- and the conveniences of life; and one or twofriends that one cares about. "

"Cut off two of those preliminaries, -- and which one would youkeep for comfort, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Couldn't do without either of 'em. What's become of my Merry-go-round, Mr. Winthrop?"

"It lies in the upper loft of the barn, with all the seamsopen. "

"Why?"

"You remember, nobody was to use it but me. "

A curious recollection of the time when it was given and ofthe feeling, half condescending, half haughty, with which ithad been given, came over Elizabeth; and for a moment or twoshe was a little confused. Whether Winthrop recollected it tooor whether he had a mischievous mind that she should, he saidpresently, "And what's become of your horse, Miss Elizabeth?"

"He's very well, " she said. "At least -- I don't know I am surehow he is, for he is up in the country. "

Winthrop rose at the instant to greet Mr. Herder, andElizabeth did not know whether the smile on his lips was forhim or at her. 

"Ah! Wint'rop, " said the new-comer, "how do you do! I thoughtyou would not come here wiz me this morning?"

"I thought not too, sir. "

"How did you come? Miss Elisabet' did make you. "

"Miss Elizabeth's father. "

"He is a strange man, Miss Elisabet'! -- he would not come forme -- I could not bring him -- neizer for de love of me, nor forde love of you, nor for love of himself. He does like to havehis way. And now he is here -- I do not know what for; but I amvery glad to see him. "

He walked Winthrop off. 

"He _is_ a strange man, " thought Elizabeth; -- "he don't seem tocare in the least what he ever did or may do; he would just aslief remind me of it as not. It is very odd that he shouldn'twant to come here, too. "

She sat still and worked alone. When Mr. Haye by and by camein, he joined Winthrop and Mr. Herder, and they three formed agroup which even the serving of tea and coffee did not breakup. Elizabeth's eye glanced over now and then towards theinterested heads of the talkers, and then at Rose and Mr. Satterthwaite, who on the other side were also enough for eachother's contentment and seemed to care for no interruption. Elizabeth interrupted nobody. 

But so soon as awhile after tea Mr. Satterthwaite left thecompany, Rose tripped across to the other group and placed herpretty person over against the naturalist and his youngfriend. 

"Mr. Herder, you are taking up all of Mr. Landholm -- I haven'tseen him or spoken to him the whole evening. "

"Dere he is, Miss Rose, " said the naturalist. "Do what youlike wiz him. "

"But you don't give a chance. Mr. Landholm, are you as great afavourite with everybody as you are with Mr. Herder?"

"Everybody does not monopolize me, Miss Cadwallader. "

"I wished so much you would come over our side -- I wanted tomake you acquainted with Mr. Satterthwaite. "

Winthrop bowed, and Mr. Haye remarked that Mr. Satterthwaitewas not much to be acquainted with. 

"No, but still -- he's very pleasant, " Rose said. "And how iseverything up at your lovely place, Mr. Landholm?"

"Cold, at present, Miss Cadwallader. "

"O yes, of course; but then I should think it would be lovelyat all times. Isn't it a beautiful place, Mr. Herder?"

"Which place, Miss Rose?"

"Why, Mr. Landholm's place, up the river, where we were thatsummer. And how's your mother, Mr. Landholm, and your sister?-- so kind Mrs. Landholm is! And have you left them entirely, Mr. Landholm?"

"I have brought all of myself away that I could, " he said witha smile. 

"Don't you wish yourself back there every day?"

"No. "

"Don't you! I should think you would. How's your brother, Mr. Landholm, and where is he?"

"He is well, and in the North yet. "

"Is he coming back to Mannahatta soon?"

"I have no reason to think so. "

"I wish he would. I want to see him again. He is such goodcompany. "

"Mr. Wint'rop will do so well, Miss Rose, " said thenaturalist. 

"I dare say he will, " said Rose with a very sweet face. 

"He won't if he goes on as he has begun, " said Mr. Haye. "Iasked him to dine here the day after to-morrow, Rose. "

"He'll come? --"

But Mr. Landholm's face said no, and said it with a coolcertainty. 

"Why, Mr. Landholm! --"

"He is very -- you cannot do nozing wiz him, Miss Rose, " saidthe naturalist. "Miss Elisabet'! --"

"Well, Mr. Herder?"

"I wish you would come over here and see what you can do. "

"About what, Mr. Herder?"

"Wiz Mr. Wint'rop here. "

"I just heard you say that nobody can do anything with him, Mr. Herder. "

"Here he has refuse to come to dinner wiz all of us. "

"If he can't come for his own pleasure, I don't suppose hewould come for anybody else's, " said Elizabeth. 

She left her solitary chair however, and came up and stoodbehind Mr. Herder. 

"He pleads business, " said Mr. Haye. 

"Miss Elisabet', we want your help, " said Mr. Herder. "He isworking too hard. "

"I am not supposed to know what that means, sir. "

"What?" said Mr. Haye. 

"Working too hard. "

"Work!" said Mr. Haye. "What do you know about work?"

"The personal experience of a life-time, sir, " said Winthropgravely. "Not much of the theory, but a good deal of thepractice. "

"I'll bear her witness of one thing, " said Mr. Haye; "if shecan't work herself, she can make work for other people. "

"You've got it, Lizzie, " said her cousin, clapping her hands. 

"I don't take it, " said Elizabeth. "For whom do I make work, father?"

"For me, or whoever has the care of you. "

Elizabeth's cheek burned now, and her eye too, with a firewhich she strove to keep under. 

"It's not fair!" she exclaimed. "If I make work for you, I amsure it is work that nobody takes up. "

"That's true, " said her father laughing, -- "it would be toomuch trouble to pretend to take it all up. "

"Then you shouldn't _bring_ it up!" said Elizabeth, trembling. 

"It's nothing very bad to bring up, " said her father. "It'sonly a little extra strong machinery that wants a goodengineer. "

"That's no fault in the machinery, sir, " said Winthrop. 

"And all you have to do, " suggested Mr. Herder, "is to find agood engineer. "

"I am my own engineer!" said Elizabeth, a little soothed bythe first remark and made desperate by the second. 

"So you are!" said her cousin. "There's no doubt of that. "

"Are you a good one, Miss Elisabet'?" said the naturalist, smiling at her. 

"You must presume not! -- after what you have heard, " sheanswered with abundant haughtiness. 

"It is one mark of a good engineer to be a match for hismachinery, " said Winthrop quietly. 

It was said so coolly and simply that Elizabeth did not takeoffence. She stood, rather cooled down and thoughtful, stillat the back of Mr. Herder's chair. Winthrop rose to takeleave, and Mr. Haye repeated his invitation. 

"I will venture so far as to say I will come if I can, sir. "

"I shall expect you, " said the other, shaking his handcordially. 

Mr. Herder went with his friend. Mr. Haye soon himselffollowed, leaving the two ladies alone. Both sat down insilence at the table; Elizabeth with a book, Miss Cadwalladerwith her fancy work; but neither of them seemed very intent onwhat she was about. The work went on lazily, and the leaves ofthe book were not turned over. 

"I wish I was Winthrop Landholm, " said Rose at length. 

"Why?" -- said her cousin, after a sufficient time had markedher utter carelessness of what the meaning might have been. 

"I should have such a good chance. "

"Of what?" -- said Elizabeth dryly enough. 

"Of a certain lady's favour, whose favour is not very easy togain. "

"You don't care much for my favour, " said Elizabeth. 

"I should, if I were Winthrop Landholm. "

"If you were he, you wouldn't get it, any more than you havenow. "

"O no. I mean, I wish I were he and not myself, you know. "

"You must think well enough of him. I am sure no possibleinducement could make me wish myself Mr. Satterthwaite, for amoment. "

"I don't care for Mr. Satterthwaite, " said Rose coolly. "Buthow Mr. Haye takes to him, don't he?"

"To whom?"

"Winthrop Landholm. "

"I don't see how he shews it. "

"Why, the way he was asking him to dinner. "

"It is nothing very uncommon for Mr. Haye to ask people todinner. "

"No, but such a person. "

"What 'such a person'?"

"O, a farmer's boy. Mr. Haye wouldn't have done it once. Butthat's the way he always comes round to people when they getup in the world. "

"This one hasn't got much up in the world yet. "

"He is going to, you know. Mr. Herder says so; and PresidentDarcy says there are not two such young men seen in half acentury as he and his brother. "

Elizabeth laid down her book and looked over at her companion, with an eye the other just met and turned away from. 

"Rose, -- how _dare_ you talk to me so!"

"So how?" said the other, pouting and reddening, but withoutlifting her face from her work. 

"You know, -- about my father. No matter what he does, if itwere the worst thing in the world, your lips have no businessto mention it to my ears. "

"I wasn't saying anything _bad_, " said Rose. 

"Your notions of bad and good, and honourable anddishonourable, are very different from mine! If he did as yousay, I should be bitterly ashamed. "

"I don't see why. "

"I will not have such things _spoken_ of to me, -- Rose, do youunderstand? What my father does, no human being has a right tocomment upon to me; and none shall!"

"You think you may talk as you like to _me_, " said Rose, betweenpouting and crying. "I was only laughing. "

"Laugh about something else. "

"I wish Winthrop Landholm had been here. "

"Why?"

"He'd have given you another speech about engineering. "

Elizabeth took her candle and book and marched out of theroom. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

One man has one way of talking, and another man has another, that's all the difference between them. GOOD-NATURED MAN. 

Winthrop found he could go. So according to his promise hedressed himself, and was looking out a pockethandkerchief fromthe small store in his trunk, when the door opened. 

"Rufus! --"

"Ah! -- you didn't expect to see me, did you?" said thatgentleman, taking off his hat and coming in and closing thedoor with a face of great life and glee. -- "Here I am, Governor!"

"What brought you here?" said his brother shaking his hand. 

"What brought me here? -- why, the stage-coach, to be sure;except five miles, that I rode on horseback. What should bringme?"

"Something of the nature of a centrifugal force, I shouldjudge. "

"Centrifugal! -- _You_ are my centre, Governor, -- don't you knowthat? I tend to you as naturally as the poor earth does to thesun. That's why I am here -- I couldn't keep at a distance anylonger. "

"My dear sir, at that rate you are running to destruction. "

"No, no, " said Rufus laughing, -- "there's a certain degree oflicense in our moral planetary system -- I'm going away againas soon as I am rightly refreshed with the communication ofyour light and warmth. "

"Well, " said Winthrop untying his neckcloth, "it would seembut courtesy in the sun to stand still to receive his visitor-- I'm very glad to see you, Will. "

"What's the matter?"

"The sun was going out to dinner -- that's all, -- but you are asufficient excuse for me. "

"Going to dinner? -- where?"

"No. 11, on the Parade. "

"No. 11? -- Mr. Haye's? were you? I'll go too. I won't hinderyou. "

"I am not sorry to be hindered, " said Winthrop. 

"But I am! -- at least, I should be. We'll both go. How soon, Governor?"

"Presently. "

"I'll be ready, " said Rufus, -- "here's my valise -- but myshirt ruffles, I fear, are in a state of impoverishedelegance. -- I speak not in respect of one or two holes, ofwhich they are the worse, -- but solely in reference to thecoercive power of narrow circumstances -- which nobody knowsanything of that hasn't experienced it, " said Rufus, lookingup from his valise to his brother with an expression halfearnest, half comical. 

"You are not suffering under it at this moment, " saidWinthrop. 

"Yes I am -- in the form of my frills. Look there! -- I'll tellyou what I'll do -- I'll invoke the charities of my goodfriend, Mrs. Nettley. Is she down stairs? -- I'll be back in amoment, Winthrop. "

Down stairs, shirt in hand, went Rufus, and tapped at Mrs. Nettley's door. That is, the door of the room where sheusually lived, a sort of better class kitchen, which held theplace of what in houses of more pretension is called the 'backparlour. ' Mrs. Nettley's own hand opened the door at his tap. 

She was a strong contrast to her brother, with her rathersmall person and a face all the lines of which were like acobweb set to catch every care that was flying; but woven byno malevolent spider; it was a very nest of kindliness andgood-will. 

"How d'ye do, Mrs. Nettley, " said Rufus softly. 

"Why, Mr. Landholm! -- are you there? Come in -- how good it isto see you again! but I didn't expect it. "

"Didn't expect to see me again?"

"No -- O yes, of course, Mr. William, " said Mrs. Nettleylaughing, -- "I expected to see you again; but not now -- Ididn't expect to see you when I opened the door. "

"I had the advantage, for I did expect to see you. "

"How do you do, Mr. Landholm?"

"Why, as well as a man can do, in want of a shirt, " said Rufuscomically. 

"Mr. Landholm? --"

"You see, Mrs. Nettley, " Rufus went on, "I have come all theway from North Lyttleton to dine with a friend and my brotherhere; and now I am come, I find that without your good officesI haven't a ruffle to ruffle myself withal; or in other words, I am afraid people would think I had packed myself bodily intomy valise, and thereby conclude I was a smaller affair thanthey had thought me. "

"Mr. Landholm! -- how you do talk! --but can I do anything?"

"Why yes, ma'am, -- or your irons can, if you have any hot. "

"O that's it!" exclaimed Mrs. Nettley as Rufus held out thecrumpled frills, -- "It's to smooth them, -- yes sir, my fire isall out a'most, but I can iron them in the oven. I'll do itdirectly, Mr. Landholm. "

"Well, " said Rufus with a quizzical face, -- "any way -- ifyou'll ensure them against damages, Mrs. Nettley -- I don'tunderstand all the possibilities of an oven. "

"We are very glad to have your brother in your room, Mr. Landholm, " the good lady went on, as she placed one of herirons in the oven's mouth, where a brilliant fire was at work. 

"I should think you would, ma'am; he can fill it much betterthan I. "

"Why Mr. Landholm! -- I should think -- I shouldn't think, tolook at you, that your brother would weigh much more than you-- he's broader shouldered, something, but you're the tallest, I'm sure. But you didn't mean that. "

"I won't dispute the palm of beauty with him, Mrs. Nettley, nor of ponderosity. I am willing he should exceed me in both. "

"Why Mr. Landholm! -- dear, I wish this iron would get hot; butthere's no hurrying it; -- I think it's the wood -- I toldGeorge I think this wood does _not_ give out the heat it oughtto do. It makes it very extravagant wood. One has to burn somuch more, and _then_ it doesn't do the work -- Why Mr. Landholm-- you must have patience, sir -- Your brother is excellent, every way, and he's very good looking, but you are thehandsomest. "

"Everybody don't think so, " Rufus said, but with a play of lipand brow that was not on the whole unsatisfied. Mrs. Nettley'sattention however was now fastened upon the frills. And thencame in Mr. Inchbald; and they talked, a sort of whirlwind oftalk, as his sister not unaptly described it; and then, theruffles being in order Rufus put himself so, and Winthrop andhe talked themselves all the way down to No. 11, on theParade. 

Their welcome was most hearty, though the company were alreadyat table. Place was speedily made for them; and Rufus hardlywaited to take his before he became the life and spirit of theparty. He continued to be that through the wholeentertainment, delighting everybody's eye and ear. Winthroplaughed at his brother and with him, but himself played a veryquiet part; putting in now and then a word that told, butdoing it rarely and carelessly; the flow and freshness of theconversation calling for no particular help from him. 

Mr. Herder was there; also Mr. Satterthwaite, who sat next toWinthrop and addressed several confidential and veryunimportant remarks to him, and seemed to look upon hisbrother as a sort of meteoric phenomenon. President Darcy, ofMr. Herder's College, was the only other guest. Elizabeth satnext to Winthrop, but after the first formal greetingvouchsafed not a single look his way; she was in a dignifiedmood for all the company generally, and Rose's were the onlyfeminine words that mixed with the talk during dinner. Veryfeminine they were, if that word implies a want of strength;but coming from such rosy lips, set round about with suchsmiles of winningness, they won their way and made easyentrance into all the ears at table. With the triflingexception of a pair or two. 

"What is the matter with you?" said Rose, when she and hercousin had left the gentlemen and were alone in the drawing-room. 

"Nothing at all. "

"You don't say a word. "

"I will, when I have a word to say. "

"I thought you always had words enough, " said Rose. 

"Not when I haven't time too. "

"Time? what, for words?"

"Yes. "

"What was the matter with the time?"

"It was filled up. "

"Well, you might have helped fill it. "

"Nothing can be more than full, very well, " said Elizabethcontemptuously. "I never want _my_ words to be lost on theoutside of a conversation. "

"You think a great deal of your words, " said her cousin. 

"I want other people should. "

"You do! Well -- I never expect them to think much of mine. "

"That's not true, Rose. "

"It isn't?"

"No; and your smile when you said it spoke that it wasn't. "

"Well, I don't care, they _are_ thought enough of, " said Rose, half crying. 

Elizabeth walked to the window and stood within the curtain, looking out into the street; and Rose bestowed her poutinglips and brimful eyes upon the full view of the fire. 

"What's made you so cross?" she said after a quarter of anhour, when the tears were dried. 

"I am not cross. "

"Did you ever see anybody so amusing as Rufus Landholm?"

"Yes, he's amusing. -- I don't like people that are tooamusing. "

"How can anybody be _too_ amusing?"

"He can make it too much of his business. "

"Who? -- Rufus?"

"No, anybody. You asked how _anybody_ could. "

"Well I dont see how you can think he is too amusing. "

"Why, that is all you care for in a man. "

"It isn't! I care for a great deal else. What do _you_ carefor?"

"I don't know, I am sure, " said Elizabeth; "but I should say, everything else. "

"Well, I think people are very stupid that aren't amusing, "said Rose. 

Which proposition the ladies illustrated for another quarterof an hour. 

The gentlemen came in then, one after another, but Elizabethdid not move from her window. 

"I have something of yours in my possession, Miss Haye, " saidRufus, coming to the outside of the curtain within which shestood. 

"What?" said Elizabeth unceremoniously. 

"Your father. "

"What are you going to do with him?"

Rufus laughed a little; and Winthrop remarked there wasnothing like straightforward dealing to confound a manoeuvrer. 

"I have a desire to put him out of my hands, into yours, " saidRufus; -- "but then, I have also a desire to make him fastthere. "

"My bracelet!" said Elizabeth. 

It had a likeness of Mr. Haye in cameo. 

"Where did you get it?"

"Where you left it. "

"Where was that?"

"On the table, at the left hand of your plate, covered by yournapkin. "

Elizabeth stretched out her hand for it. 

"Not so fast -- I have it in my possession, as I told you, andI claim a reward for recovering it from its ignoblecondition. "

"I shall set my own conditions then, " said Elizabeth. "I willlet anybody put it on, who will do me the pleasure to explainit first. "

"Explain?" said Rufus, looking in a sort of comical doubt atthe cameo; -- "I see the features of Mr. Haye, which never needexplanation to me. "

"Not in nature; but do you understand them when they look sobrown on a white ground?"

"They look very natural!" said Rufus eyeing the cameo. 

"That is to say, you do not understand them?"

"Pardon me, _you_ are the person most difficult to understand. "

"I don't ask that of you, " said Elizabeth. "I want to knowabout this cameo, for I confess I don't. "

"And I confess I don't, " said Rufus. "I didn't even know ithad any other name but Mr. Haye. "

"What's all this?" said Rose, -- "what are you talking abouthere?"

"We are talking about, we don't know what, " said Rufus. 

"What is it?"

"That's the question; -- nobody knows. "

"_What_ is the question?"

"Who shall put on Miss Elizabeth's bracelet. "

"Give it to me -- I'll do it. "

"Pardon me -- there is said to be reason in the roasting ofeggs, and there must be a good deal of reason before thisbracelet goes on. "

"I want somebody to tell me about the cameo, " said Elizabeth. 

"Well, won't somebody do it?"

"Mr. Landholm can't -- I haven't asked Mr. Winthrop. "

"Will you?" said Rose turning to him. 

"I wasn't asked, " said Winthrop. 

"But I asked you. "

"Do you wish to know, Miss Cadwallader?"

"No I don't. What's the use of knowing about everything? Doleave the cameos, and come over here and sit down and talk andbe comfortable!"

"It's impossible for me to be comfortable, " said Rufus. "I'vegot Mr. Haye on my hands and I don't know what to do withhim. "

"Mr. Herder!" -- Rose called out to him, -- "do come here andtell us about cameos, that we can sit down and becomfortable. "

Very good-humouredly the naturalist left Mr. Haye and came tothem, and presently was deep in quartz and silica, and onyxand chalcedony, and all manner of stones that are precious. Hetold all that Elizabeth wanted to know, and much more than shehad dreamed of knowing. Even Rose listened; and Rufus waseagerly attentive; and Elizabeth after she had asked questionsas far as her knowledge allowed her to push them, sighed andwished she knew everything. 

"Then you would be more wise than anybody, Miss Elisabet' --you would be too wise. The man who knows the most, knows thathe knows little. "

"Is that your opinion of yourself, Mr. Herder?" said Rufus. 

"Certainly. I do know very little; -- I will know more, Ihope. "

"O Mr. Herder, you know enough, " said Rose. "I shouldn't thinkyou would want to study any more. "

"If I was to say, I know enough, -- that would be to say that Ido not know nozing at all. "

"Mr. Winthrop, you don't seem as interested as the rest ofus, " said Elizabeth, perhaps with a little curiosity; for hehad stood quietly by, letting even Mr. Satterthwaite pushhimself in between. 

"O he, " said the naturalist, -- "he knows it all before. "

"Then why didn't you tell me!" said Elizabeth. 

"I wasn't asked, " said Winthrop smiling. 

"Wint'rop comes to my room the nights, " Mr. Herder went on, --"and he knows pretty well all what is in it, by this time. When he is tired himself wiz work at his books and hiswritings, he comes and gets rested wiz my stones and mypreparations. If you will come there, Miss Elisabet', I willshew you crystals of quartz, and onyx, and all the kinds ofchalcedony, and ozer things. "

"And I too, Mr. Herder?" said Rose. 

"Wiz pleasure, Miss Rose, -- if you like. "

"Mr. Herder, " said the young lady, "don't you love everythingvery much?"

"I love you very much, Miss Rose, " said the naturalist, turning his good-humoured handsome face full upon her, -- "I donot know about everyzing. "

"No, but I mean all animals and insects, and everything thatlives?"

"I do not love everyzing that lives, " said the naturalistsmiling. "I do not love Mr. Heinfelt. "

"Who is Mr. Heinfelt?" said Rose. 

"He is a man what I do not love. "

"No, but Mr. Herder, I mean, don't you love other things verymuch -- animals, and such things? You have so much to do withthem. "

"No -- I have no love to spare for animals, " he said with agrave face. 

"Don't you love birds and animals, that you are always afterand busy with?"

"No, " said the naturalist, -- "I do not love them -- I love whatis _back_ of all that -- not the animals. I keep my love formen. "

"Do you think you have any more in that direction, for keepingit from the others?" said Elizabeth. 

"I do not understand --"

"Do you think you love men any better because you don't giveanimals any love at all?"

"I do love some animals, " said Mr. Herder. "I had a horseonce, when I lived in Germany, that I did love. I loved him sowell, that when a man did insult my horse, I made him fightme. "

Rose exclaimed; Elizabeth smiled significantly; and Winthropremarked, "So that's the way your love for men shews itself!"

"No, " said the naturalist, -- "no, -- I never did ask a man tomeet me more than that one time. And I did not hurt him much. I only want to punish him a little. "

"Why, Mr. Herder!" Rose repeated. "I didn't think you would dosuch a thing. "

"Everybody fight in Germany, " said the naturalist; "they allfight at the Universités -- they _must_ fight. I found the onlyway was to make myself so good swordsman that I should besafe. "

"And have you fought many duels?" said Elizabeth. 

"Yes -- I have fought -- I have been obliged by circumstances tofight a good many. -- I have seen two hundred. "

"Two hundred duels, Mr. Herder!"

"Yes. -- I have seen four men killed. "

"Were _you_ ever hurt, Mr. Herder?" said Rose. 

"No -- I never was wounded. I saw how it was -- that the onlything to do was to excel ozers; so as in ozer things, I did inthis. "

"But how came you, who love men so well, to have so much to dowith hurting them, Mr. Herder?"

"You cannot help it, Miss Elisabet', " said the naturalist. "They fight for _nozing_ -- they fight for _nozing_. I never askedone, but I have been oblige to fight a good many. The studentsmake themselves into clubs; and the way is, when two studentsof different clubs, get in a quarrel, their presidents mustfight it out; -- so they meet people in duels that they havenever spoken to, nor seen. I will give you an instance. -- Oneof these fellows -- a great fighter -- he had fought perhapsforty times, -- he was bragging about it; 'he had fought suchone and such one, ' he said; -- 'perhaps he ought to have foughtHerder, in order to say that he was the best man with thesword of all the German students, -- perhaps he ought to havemet Herder, but he didn't care about it!' And a young fellowthat heard him, that was by, he took it up; 'Sir, ' said he, 'Herder is my friend -- you must fight him -- come to my roomto-morrow morning at seven o'clock -- he will meet you;' --'very well, ' they agree upon the matter togezer. The nextmorning he come bouncing into my room at a quarter after seven-- 'Herder! Herder! come on! -- Lessing is waiting to fight youin my room. ' -- 'What is the matter?' -- 'O, Lessing said so andso, and I told him you would fight him at seven, and it is aquarter past' -- 'Well, you tell him I didn't know of this, Iam not keeping him waiting; I will come directly. ' -- I was notup. So I got myself dressed, and in ten minutes I was there. Aduel is finished when they have given twelve blows" --

"Twelve on each side, Mr. Herder?"

"Yes -- when they have both of them given twelve blows apiece. Before we begun, Lessing and me, I whispered to somebody whostood there, that I would not touch him unless he touched me;and then I would give it to him in the ribs. I received tenblows on my arm, which is covered wiz a long glove; theeleven, he cut my waistcoat -- I had one blow left, and I gaveit to him in the ribs so long --"

Mr. Herder's words were filled out by the position of his forefingers, which at this juncture were held some seven or eightinches apart. 

"O Mr. Herder! -- did you kill him!" exclaimed Rose. 

"Not at all -- I did not kill him -- he was very good friend ofmine, -- he was not angry wiz me. He said, 'when I get well, Herder, you come to breakfast wiz me in my room;' and I said, 'yes!'"

"Is that kind of thing permitted in the Universities, Mr. Herder?" said Elizabeth. 

"Permit? -- No, it is not permitted. They would hinder it ifthey could. "

"What would have been done to you if you had been found out?"

"Humph! -- They would have shut us up!" said Mr. Herder, shrugging his shoulders. 

"In your rooms?"

"No -- not exactly; -- in the fortress. At Munich the punishmentfor being found out, is eight years in the fortress; -- at ozerplaces, four or five years; -- yet they will fight. "

"How many Universities have you been in, Mr. Herder?" saidRose. 

"I have been in seven, of Universités in Europe. "

"Fighting duels in all of them!"

"Well, yes; -- no, there was one where I did fight no duel. Iwas not there long enough. "

"Mr. Herder, I am shocked! I wouldn't have thought it of you. "

"The bracelet, Mr. Herder, I believe is yours, " said Rufus. 

"Mine?" -- said the naturalist. 

"Miss Elizabeth would allow no one to put it on her hand, buta philosopher. "

"That is too great an honour for me, -- I am not young andgallant enough -- I shall depute you, " -- said Mr. Herderputting the cameo in Winthrop's hand. 

But Winthrop remarked that he could not take deputed honours;and quietly laid it in the hand of its owner. Elizabeth, witha face a little blank, clasped it on for herself. Rufus lookedsomewhat curious and somewhat amused. 

"I am afraid you will say of my brother, Miss Haye, thatthough certainly _young_ enough, he is not very gallant, " hesaid. 

Elizabeth gave no answer to this speech, nor sign of hearing, unless it might be gathered from the cool free air with whichshe made her way out of the group and left them at the window. She joined herself to President Darcy, at the other side ofthe fire, and engaged him in talk with her about differentgems and the engraving of them, so earnestly that she had noeyes nor ears for anybody else. And when any of the gentlemenbrought her refreshments, she took or refused them almostwithout acknowledgment, and always without lifting her eyes tosee to whom it might be due. 

The company were all gone, and a little pause, of rest or ofmusing, had followed the last spoken 'good night. ' It wasmusing on Elizabeth's part; for she broke it with, "Father, if you can give Mr. Landholm aid in any way, I hopeyou will. "

"My dear, " said her father, "I don't know what I can do. I didoffer to set him a going in business, but he don't like myline; and I have nothing to do with his, away up in the Norththere among the mountains. "

"O I don't mean that Mr. Landholm -- I mean the other. "

"Winthrop, " said Mr. Haye. 

"Elizabeth likes him much the best, " said Miss Cadwallader. 

"I don't, " said Mr. Haye. 

"Neither do I!"

"I do, " said Elizabeth. "I think he is worth at least ten ofhis brother. "

"She likes him so well, that if you don't help him, dear Mr. Haye, there is every likelihood that somebody else will. "

"I certainly would, " said Elizabeth, "if there was any waythat I could. But there is not. "

"I don't know that he wants help, " said Mr. Haye. 

"Why, he must, father! -- he can't live upon nothing; how muchmeans do you suppose he has?"

"I met him at the chop-house the other day, " said Mr. Haye; --"he was eating a very good slice of roast beef. I dare say hepaid for it. "

"But he is struggling to make his way up into his profession, "said Elizabeth. "He _must_ be. "

"What must he be?" said Rose. 

"Struggling. "

"Perhaps he is, " said Mr. Haye, "but he don't say so. If I seehim struggling, I will try what I can do. "

"Oh father! --"

"Why should Winthrop Landholm be helped, " said Rose, "morethan all the other young men who are studying in the city?"

"Because I know him, " said Elizabeth, "and don't happen toknow the others. And because I like him. "

"I like him too, " said her father yawning, "but I don't knowanything very remarkable about him. I like his brother thebest. "

"He is honest, and good, and _independent_, " said Elizabeth;"and those are the very people that ought to be helped. "

"And those are the very people that it is difficult to help, "said her father. "How do you suppose he would take it, if Iwere to offer him a fifty dollar note to-morrow?"

"I don't suppose he would take it at all, " said Elizabeth. "You couldn't help him so. But there are other ways. "

"You may give him all your business, when he gets into hisprofession, " said Mr. Haye. "I don't know what else you cando. Or you can use your influence with Mr. Satterthwaite toget his father to employ him. "

"You and he may both be very glad to do it yet, " saidElizabeth. "I shouldn't wonder. "

"Then I don't see why you are concerned about him, " said Rose. 

Elizabeth was silent, with a face that might be taken to saythere was nobody within hearing worthy of her words. 

Rufus went back to his work in the mountains, and Winthropstruggled on; if most diligent and unsparing toil, and patientdenying himself of necessary and wished-for things, werestruggling. It was all his spare time could do to make clearthe way for the hours given to his profession. There waslittle leisure for rest, and he had no means to bestow onpleasure; and that is a very favourable stating of the case asfar as regards the last item. Mr. Inchbald never asked forrent, and never had it; not in those days. That the time wouldcome, Winthrop believed; and his kind host never troubledhimself to inquire. 

There were pleasures, however, that Winthrop could not buy andwhich were very freely his. Mr. Herder's friendship introducedhim to society, some of the best worth to be found, and whichopened itself circle after circle to let him in. He had thefreedom of President Darcy's house, and of Mr. Haye's, wherehe met other sets; in all, covering the whole ground ofMannahatta good society; and in all which Winthrop could notbut know he was gladly seen. He had means and facilities forsocial enjoyment, more, by many, than he chose to availhimself of; facilities that did not lack temptation. In Mr. Herder's set, Winthrop often was found; other houses in thecity saw him but rarely. 

There was an exception, -- he was often at Mr. Haye's; why, itdid not very plainly appear. He was certainly made welcome bythe family, but so he was by plenty of other families; and thehouse had not a more pleasant set of familiars than severalother houses could boast. Mr. Haye had no sort of objection togiving him so much countenance and encouragement; and Rosekept all her coldness and doubtful speeches for other timesthan those when he was near. Elizabeth held very much her oldmanner; in general chose to have little to do with him; eitherhaughtily or carelessly distant, it might be taken for one orthe other. Though _which_ it might be taken for, seemed to giveno more concern to the gentleman in question than it did toherself. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

A man may hear this shower sing in the wind. MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 

One summer's afternoon, -- this was the first summer ofWinthrop's being in Mannahatta, -- he went to solace himselfwith a walk out of town. It was a long and grave andthoughtful walk; so that Mr. Landholm really had very littlegood of the bright summer light upon the grass and trees. Furthermore, he did not even find it out when this light wascurtained in the west with a thick cloud, which straightwaybecame gilt and silver-edged in a marvellous and splendiddegree. The cloud of thought was thicker than that, if notquite so brilliant; and it was not until low growls of thunderbegan to salute his ear, that he looked up and found thesilver edge fast mounting to the zenith and the curtaindrawing its folds all around over the clear blue sky. His nextlook was earthward, for a shelter; for at the rate thatchariot of the storm was travelling he knew he had not manyminutes to seek one before the storm would be upon him. Happily a blacksmith's shop, that he would certainly havepassed without seeing it, stood at a little distance; andWinthrop thankfully made for it. He found it deserted; andsecure of a refuge, took his place at the door to watch theface of things; for though the edge of the town was near, thestorm was nearer, and it would not do to run for it. Theblackness covered everything now, changing to lurid light inthe storm quarter, and big scattered drops began to comeplashing down. This time Winthrop's mind was so much in theclouds that he did not know what was going on in the earth;for while he stood looking and gazing, two ladies almost ranover him. Winthrop's senses came back to the door of theblacksmith's shop, and the ladies recovered themselves. 

"How do you do, Mr. Landholm, " said the one, with a bow. 

"O Mr. Winthrop!" cried the other, -- "what shall we do? wecan't get home, and I'm so frightened! --"

Winthrop had not time to open his lips, for either civility orconsolation, when a phaeton, coming at a furious rate, suddenly pulled up before them, and Mr. Satterthwaite jumpedout of it and joined himself to the group. His business was topersuade Miss Haye to take the empty place in his carriage andescape with him to the shelter of her own house or hisfather's. Miss Haye however preferred getting wet, and walkingthrough the mud, and being blinded with the lightning, all ofwhich alternatives Mr. Satterthwaite presented to her; atleast no other conclusion could be drawn, for she verysteadily and coolly refused to ride home with him. 

"Mr. Landholm, " said Mr. Satterthwaite in desperation, "don'tyou advise Miss Haye to agree to my proposition?"

"I never give advice, sir, " said Winthrop, "after I see thatpeople's minds are made up. Perhaps Miss Cadwallader may beless stubborn. "

Mr. Satterthwaite could do no other than turn to MissCadwallader, who wanted very little urging. 

"But Rose!" said her cousin, -- "you're not going to leave mealone?"

"No, I don't, " said Rose. "I'm sure you've got somebody withyou; and he's got an umbrella. "

"Don't, Rose!" said Elizabeth, -- "stay and go home with me --the storm will be over directly. "

"It won't -- I can't, " said Rose, -- "It won't be over thishour, and I'm afraid --"

And into Mr. Satterthwaite's phaeton she jumped, and away Mr. Satterthwaite's phaeton went, with him and her in it. 

"You had better step under shelter, Miss Haye, " said Winthrop;"it is beginning to sprinkle pretty fast. "

"No, " said Elizabeth, "I'll go home -- I don't mind it. I wouldrather go right home -- I don't care for the rain. "

"But you can't go without the umbrella, " said Winthrop, "andthat belongs to me. "

"Well, won't you go with me?" said Elizabeth, with a look halfdoubtful and half daunted. 

"Yes, as soon as it is safe. This is a poor place, but it isbetter than nothing. You must come in here and have patiencetill then. "

He went in and Elizabeth followed him, and she stood therelooking very doubtful and very much annoyed; eyeing the fastfalling drops as if her impatience could dry them up. Thelittle smithy was black as such a place should be; nothinglooked like a seat but the anvil, and that was hardly safe totake advantage of. 

"I wish there was something here for you to sit down upon, "said Winthrop peering about, -- "but everything is likeVulcan's premises. It is a pity I am not Sir Walter Raleighfor your behoof; for I suppose Sir Walter didn't mind walkinghome without his coat, and I do. "

"He only threw off his cloak, " said Elizabeth. 

"I never thought of wearing mine this afternoon, " saidWinthrop, "though I brought an umbrella. But see here, MissElizabeth, -- here is a box, one end of which, I think, may betrusted. Will you sit down?"

Elizabeth took the box, seeming from some cause or othertongue-tied. She sat looking out through the open door at thestorm in a mixture of feelings, the uppermost of which wasvexation. 

"I hope more than one end of this box may be trusted, " shepresently roused herself to say. "I have no idea of givinghalf trust to anything. "

"Yet that is quite as much as it is safe to give to mostthings, " said Winthrop. 

"Is it?"

"I am afraid so. "

"I wouldn't give a pin for anything I couldn't trustentirely, " said Elizabeth. 

"Which shews what a point of perfection the manufacture ofpins has reached since the days of Anne Boleyn, " saidWinthrop. 

"Of Anne Boleyn! -- What of them then?"

"Only that a statute was passed in that time, entitled, 'Anact for the true making of pins;' so I suppose they were thenarticles of some importance. But the box may be trusted, MissHaye, for strength, if not for agreeableness. A quarter ofagreeableness with a remainder of strength, is a fairproportion, as things go. "

"Do you mean to compare life with this dirty box?" saidElizabeth. 

"They say an image should always elevate the subject, " saidWinthrop smiling. 

"What was the matter with the making of pins, " said Elizabeth, "that an act had to be made about it?"

"Why in those days, " said Winthrop, "mechanics andtradespeople were in the habit occasionally of playing false, and it was necessary to look after them. "

Elizabeth sat silently looking out again, wondering -- what shehad often wondered before -- where ever her companion had gothis cool self-possession; marvelling, with a little impatientwonder, how it was that he would just as lief talk to her in ablacksmith's shop in a thunder-storm, as in anybody's drawing-room with a band playing and fifty people about. She was nomatch for him, for she felt a little awkward. She, Miss Haye, the heiress in her own right, who had lived in good companyever since she had lived in company at all. Yet there hestood, more easily, she felt, than she sat. She sat lookingstraight out at the rain and thinking of it. 

The open doorway and her vision were crossed a moment after bya figure which put these thoughts out of her head. It was thefigure of a little black girl, going by through the rain, withan old basket at her back which probably held food or firingthat she had been picking up along the streets of the city. She wore a wretched old garment which only half covered her, and that was already half wet; her feet and ancles were naked;and the rain came down on her thick curly head. No doubt shewas accustomed to it; the road-worn feet must have caredlittle for wet or dry, and the round shock of wool perhapsnever had a covering; yet it was bowed to the rain, and thelittle blackey went by with lagging step and a sort of slowcrying. It touched Elizabeth with a disagreeable feeling ofpain. The thought had hardly crossed her mind, that she wassorry for her, when to her great surprise she saw hercompanion go to the door and ask the little object of her pityto come in under the shed. The child stopped her slow step andher crying and looked up at him. 

"Come in here till the rain's over, " he repeated. 

She gave her head a sort of matter-of-course shake, withoutmoving a pair of intelligent black eyes which had fixed on hisface. 

"Come in, " said Winthrop. 

The child shook her head again, and said, "Can't!"

"Why not?" said Winthrop. 

"Mustn't!"

"Why mustn't you?"

"'Cause. "

"Come in, " said Winthrop, -- and to Elizabeth's exceedingastonishment he laid hold of the little black shoulder anddrew the girl into the shop, -- "it is going to storm hard; --why mustn't you?"

The little blackey immediately squatted herself down on theground against the wall, and looking up at him repeated, "'Cause. "

"It's going to be a bad storm; -- you'll be better under here. "

The child's eyes went out of the door for a moment, and thencame back to his face, as if with a sort of fascination. 

"How far have you to go?"

"Home. "

"How far is that?"

"It's six miles, I guess, " said the owner of the eyes. 

"That's too far for you to go in the storm. The lightningmight kill you. "

"Kill me!"

"Yes. It might. "

"I guess I'd be glad if it did, " she said, with another glanceat the storm. 

"Glad if it did! -- why?"

"'Cause. "

"'Cause what?" said Winthrop, entering more into the child'sinterests, Elizabeth thought, than he had done into hers. 

"'Cause, " repeated the blackey. -- "I don't want to get home. "

"Who do you live with?"

"I live with my mother, when I'm to home. "

"Where do you live when you are not at home?"

"Nowheres. "

The gathered storm came down at this point with great fury. The rain fell, whole water; little streams even made their wayunder the walls of the shanty and ran across the floor. Thedarkness asked no help from black walls and smoky roof. 

"Isn't this better than to be out?" said Winthrop, after hiseyes had been for a moment drawn without by the tremendouspouring of the rain. But the little black girl looked at itand said doggedly, "I don't care. "

"Where have you been with that basket?"

"Down yonder -- where all the folks goes, " she said with aslight motion of her head towards the built-up quarter of thecountry. 

"Do you bring wood all the way from there on your back?"

"When I get some. "

"Aren't you tired?"

The child looked at him steadily, and then in a strangesomewhat softened manner which belied her words, answered, "No. "

"You don't bring that big basket full, do you?"

She kept her bright eyes on him and nodded. 

"I should think it would break your back. "

"If I don't break my back I get a lickin'. "

"Was that what you were crying for as you went by?"

"I wa'n't a cryin'!" said the girl. "Nobody never see me acryin' for nothin'!"

"You haven't filled your basket to-day. "

She gave an askant look into it, and was silent. 

"How came that?"

"'Cause! -- I was tired, and I hadn't had no dinner; and Idon't care! That's why I wished the thunder would kill me. Ican't live without eatin'. "

"Have you had nothing since morning?"

"I don't get no mornin' -- I have to get my dinner. "

"And you could get none to-day?"

"No. Everything was eat up. "

"Everything isn't quite eaten up, " said Winthrop, rummaging inhis coat pocket; and he brought forth thence a paper of figswhich he gave the girl. "He isn't so short of means as Ifeared, after all, " thought Elizabeth, "since he can afford tocarry figs about in his pocket. " But she did not know that theyoung gentleman had made his own dinner off that paper offigs; and she could not guess it, ever when from his othercoat pocket he produced some biscuits which were likewisegiven to eke out the figs in the little black girl's dinner. She was presently roused to very great marvelling again byseeing him apply his foot to another box, one without a cleanside, and roll it over half the length of the shed for thechild to sit upon. 

"What do you think of life now, Miss Elizabeth?" he said, leaving his charge to eat her figs and coming again to theyoung lady's side. 

"_That_ isn't life, " said Elizabeth. 

"It seems without the one quarter of agreeableness, " he said. 

"But it's horrible, Mr. Winthrop! --"

He was silent, and looked at the girl, who sitting on her coalbox was eating figs and biscuits with intense satisfaction. 

"She is not a bad-looking child, " said Elizabeth. 

"She is a very good-looking child, " said Winthrop; "at leasther face has a great deal of intelligence; and I think, something more. "

"What more?"

"Feeling, or capacity of feeling. "

"I wish you had a seat, Mr. Landholm, " said Elizabeth, lookinground. 

"Thank you -- I don't wish for one. "

"It was very vexatious in Rose to go and leave me!"

"There isn't another box for her if she had stayed, " saidWinthrop. 

"She would have me go out with her this afternoon to see herdressmaker, who lives just beyond here a little; and fatherhad the horses. It was so pleasant an afternoon, I had nonotion of a storm. "

"There's a pretty good notion of a storm now, " said Winthrop. 

So there was, beyond a doubt; the rain was falling in floods, and the lightning and thunder, though not very near, were veryunceasing. Elizabeth still felt awkward and uneasy, and didnot know what to talk about. She never had talked much to Mr. Landholm; and his cool matter-of-fact way of answering herremarks, puzzled or baffled her. 

"That child sitting there makes me very uncomfortable, " shesaid presently. 

"Why, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth hesitated, and then said she did not know. 

"You don't like the verification of my setting forth of life, "he said smiling. 

"But _that_ is not life, Mr. Winthrop. "

"What is it?"

"It is the experience of one here and there -- not of people ingeneral. "

"What do you take to be the experience of people in general?"

"Not mine, to be sure, " said Elizabeth after a little thought, -- "nor hers. "

"Hers is a light shade of what rests upon many. "

"Why Mr. Winthrop! do you think so?"

"Look at her, " he said in a low voice; -- "she has forgottenher empty basket in a sweet fig. "

"But she must take it up again. "

"She won't lessen her burden, but she will her power offorgetting. "

Elizabeth sat still, looking at her vis-à-vis of life, andfeeling very uneasily what she had never felt before. Shebegan therewith to ponder sundry extraordinary propositionsabout the inequalities of social condition and the relativeduties of man to man. 

"What right have I, " she said suddenly, "to so much more thanshe has?"

"Very much the sort of right that I have to be an American, while somebody else is a Chinese. "

"Chance, " said Elizabeth. 

"No, there is no such thing as chance, " he said seriously. 

"What then?"

"The fruit of industry, talent, and circumstance. "

"Not mine. "

"No, but your father's, who gives it to you. "

"But why ought I to enjoy more than she does? -- in theabstract, I mean. "

"I don't know, " said Winthrop. -- "I guess we had better walk onnow, Miss Elizabeth. "

"Walk on! -- it rains too hard. "

"But we are in the shed, while other people are out?"

"No but, -- suppose that by going out I could bring them in?"

"Then I would certainly act as your messenger, " he saidsmiling. "But you can't reach _all_ the people who are socareless as to go out without umbrellas. "

Elizabeth was betrayed into a laugh --a genuine hearty laugh ofsurprise, in which her awkwardness was for a moment forgotten. 

"How came you to bring one, such a day?"

"I thought the sun was going to shine. "

"But seriously, Mr. Landholm, my question, " -- said Elizabeth. 

"What was it?"

"How ought I to enjoy so much more than she has?"

"Modestly, I should think. "

"What do you mean?"

"If you were to give the half of your fortune to one such, forinstance, " he said with a slight smile, "do you fancy youwould have adjusted two scales of the social balance to hangeven?"

"No, " said Elizabeth, -- "I suppose not. "

"You would have given away what she could not keep; you wouldhave put out of your power what would not be in hers; and onthe whole, she would be scantly a gainer and the world wouldbe a loser. "

"Yet surely, " said Elizabeth, "something is due from my handto hers. "

Her companion was quite silent, rather oddly, she thought; andher meditations came back for a moment from social toindividual distinctions and differences. Then, really in apuzzle as to the former matter, she repeated her question. 

"But what can one do to them, then, Mr. Winthrop? -- or whatshould be one's aim?"

"Put them in the way of exercising the talent and industry andcircumstance which have done such great things for us. "

"So that by the time they have the means they will be readyfor them? -- But dear me! that is a difficult matter!" saidElizabeth. 

Her companion smiled a little. 

"But they haven't any talent, Mr. Landholm, -- nor industry norcircumstance either. To be sure those latter wants might bemade up. "

"Most people have talent, of one sort or another, " saidWinthrop. "There's a little specimen pretty well stocked. "

"Do you think so?"

"Try her. "

"I don't know how to try her!" said Elizabeth. "I wish youwould. "

"I don't know how, either, " said Winthrop. "Circumstances havebeen doing it this some time. "

"I wish she hadn't come in, " said Elizabeth. "She hasunsettled all my ideas. "

"They will rest the better for being unsettled. "

Elizabeth looked at him, but he did not acknowledge the look. Presently, whether to try how benevolence worked, or to runaway from her feeling of awkwardness, she got up and moved afew steps towards the place where the little blackey sat. 

"Have you had dinner enough?" she said, standing and lookingdown upon her as a very disagreeable social curiosity. 

"There aint no more, if I hain't, " said the curiosity, withvery dauntless eyes. 

"Where do you get your dinner every day?"

"'Long street, " said the girl, turning her eyes away fromElizabeth and looking out into the storm. 

"Do you often go without any?"

"When the folks don't give me none. "

"Does that happen often?"

"They didn't give me none to-day. "

"What do you do then?"

The eyes came back from the door to Elizabeth, and then wentto Winthrop. 

"What do you do then?" Elizabeth repeated. 

"I gets 'em. "

"You didn't get any to-day?" said Winthrop. 

She shook her head. 

"You mustn't any more. "

"Nobody ha'n't no business to let me starve, " said the blackeystoutly. 

"No, but I'll tell you where to go the next time you can't geta dinner, and you shall have it without stealing. "

"I ha'n't stole it -- nobody never see me steal -- I only tukit, " -- said the girl with a little lowering of her voice andair. 

"What's your name?"

"Clam. "

"Clam!" said Elizabeth, -- "where did you get such an oddname?"

"'Long street, " said the girl, her black eyes twinkling. 

"Where did you get it?" said Winthrop gravely. 

"I didn't get it nowheres -- it was guv to me. "

"What's your other name?"

"I ha'n't got no more names -- my name's Clam. "

"What's your mother's name?"

"She's Sukey Beckinson. "

"Is she kind to you?" asked Elizabeth. 

"_I_ don' know!"

"Did you have dinner enough?" said Winthrop with a smile. 

Clam jumped up, and crossing her hands on her breast dropped abrisk little courtsey to her benefactor. She made no otheranswer, and then sat down again. 

"Are you afraid to go home with your empty basket when thestorm's over?" said he kindly. 

"No, " she said; but it was with a singular expression of coldand careless necessity. 

"The rest of the basketful wouldn't be worth more than that, would it?" said he giving her a sixpence. 

Clam took it and clasped it very tight in her fist, for otherplace of security she had none; and looked at him, but made nomore answer than that. 

"You won't forget where to come the next time you can't get anhonest dinner, " said he. "The corner of Beaver and LittleSouth Streets. You know where it is? That is where I live. Askfor Mr. Landholm. "

Clam nodded and said, "I know!"

"I hope you'll get some supper to-night, " said he. 

"I will!" said Clam determinately. 

"How will you?" said Elizabeth. 

"I'll make mammy give me some, " said the girl flourishing herclasped fist. 

"Wouldn't you like to leave picking things out of the street, and go to live with somebody who would take care of you andteach you to be a good girl?" said Elizabeth. 

Clam tossed her sixpence up and down in her hand, and finallybrought her eyes to bear upon Elizabeth and said, "I don't want nobody to take care of me. "

"If she could be taught, and would, I'd take care of herafterwards, " said Elizabeth to Winthrop. 

"If _he'd_ say so, I would, " said Clam. 

"Look here, " said Winthrop. "Would you like to come into somekind house -- if I can find you one -- and learn to do cleanwork?"

"It don't make no odds, " said Clam looking at her basket. 

"What do you say?"

"I guess no one don't want me. "

"Perhaps not; but if somebody would have you, would you be agood girl?"

"I s'pose I'd get dinner reglar, " said the little black girl, still fingering the edge of her basket. 

"Certainly! --and something better than figs. "

"Be them figs?" said Clam, suddenly looking up at him. 

"Yes -- the sweet ones. "

"Goody! -- I didn't know that before. "

"Well -- you haven't answered me yet. "

"I don't care much, " -- said Clam. "Is it your house?"

"Maybe. "

"I'll come!" said she clapping her hands. "I'll clear out, andmother won't never give it to me no more. -- Nor nobody elsesha'n't?" said she looking up at Winthrop. 

"If you behave yourself. "

"I'll go now right off!" said Clam, jumping up in greatspirits. Then with a changing and doubtful tone she added, looking to Winthrop, "Will you take me?"

"Yes, " he said smiling, "but not this evening. You must gohome now, when the storm is over, for to-night; and I'll comeand see your mother about it. "

"What for?" was the very earnest and prompt answer. 

"If you agree to come, I must get her to bind you out. "

"I aint goin' to be bound, " said Clam shaking her head; -- "ifyou bind me, I'll run. "

"Run as fast as you please, " said Winthrop; -- "run wheneveryou want to; -- but I can't take you unless you be bound, for Iwon't have your mother coming after you. "

"Can't she do nothin' to me if I'm bound?" said Clam. 

"Nothing at all, till you grow up to be a woman; and then youcan take care of yourself. "

"I'll take care of myself all along, " said Clam. "Nobody elseaint a goin' to. "

"But somebody must give you clothes to wear, and a bed tosleep in, and your dinner, you know; and you must do work forsomebody, to pay for it. "

"To pay for my dinner?"

"Yes. "

"Very good!" said Clam. "I guess I'll stand it. Will it befor you?"

"No, I think not. "

"Won't you?" said Clam wishingly. "I'll do work for you. "

"Thank you. Maybe you shall. "

"I'm goin' home now, " said Clam, getting up and shoulderingher basket. 

"The storm's too bad yet, " said Winthrop. 

"Crackey! what do you think I care for that! The rain won'twet _me_ much. "

"Come to my house to-morrow, if you want to see me again, "said Winthrop, -- "about dinner-time. "

Clam nodded, and fixing her bright eyes very intently first onone and then on the other of the friends she was leaving, sheended with a long parting look at Winthrop which lasted tillshe had passed from sight out of the door of the shed. 

The violence of the storm was gone over; but though thethunder sounded now in the distance and the lightning playedfainter, the rain fell yet all around them, in a gentle andvery full shower. 

"Do you suppose she has six miles to go?" said Elizabeth. 

"No. "

"I thought you answered as if you believed her when she saidso. "

"It isn't best to tell all one's thoughts, " said Winthropsmiling. 

Elizabeth went back to her box seat. 

"I wish the rain would let us go home too, " she said. 

"Your wishes are so accustomed to smooth travelling, theydon't know what to make of a hindrance, " said her companion. 

Elizabeth knew it was true, and it vexed her. It seemed toimply that she had not been tried by life, and that nobodyknew what she would be till she was tried. That was a verydisagreeable thought. There again he had the advantage of her. Nothing is reliable that is not tried. "And yet, " she said toherself, "I _am_ reliable. I know I am. "

"What can anybody's wish make of a hindrance?" was her reply. 

"Graff it in well, and anybody can make a pretty large thornof it. "

"Why Mr. Winthrop! -- but I mean, in the way of dealing with itpleasantly?"

"Pleasantly? -- I don't know, " said he; "unless they could getmy mother's recipe. "

"What does _her_ wish do with a hindrance?"

"It lies down and dies, " he said, with a change of tone whichshewed whither his thoughts had gone. 

"I think I never wish mine to do that, " said Elizabeth. 

"What then? Remember you are speaking of hindrances absolute --that cannot be removed. "

"But Mr. Winthrop, do you think it is possible for one's wishto lie down and die so?"

"If I had not seen it, I might say that it was not. "

"I don't understand it --I don't know what to make of it, " saidElizabeth. "I don't think it is possible for mine. "

Winthrop's thoughts went back a moment to the sweet calm brow, the rested face, that told of its truth and possibility in oneinstance.. He too did not understand it, but he guessed wherethe secret might lie. 

"It must be a very happy faculty, " said Elizabeth; -- "but itseems to me -- of course it is not so in that instance, -- butin the abstract, it seems to me rather tame; -- I don't likeit. I have no idea of giving up!"

"There is no need of your giving up, in this case, " saidWinthrop. "Do you see that sunshine?"

"And the rainbow!" said Elizabeth. 

She sprang to the door; and they both stood looking, while theparting gifts of the clouds were gently reaching the ground, and the sun taking a cleared place in the western heaven, painted over against them, broad and bright, the promissorytoken that the earth should be overwhelmed with the waters nomore. The rain-drops glittered as they fell; the grass lookedup in refreshed green where the sun touched it; the cloudswere driving over from the west, leaving broken fragmentsbehind them upon the blue; and the bright and sweet colours ofthe rainbow swept their circle in the east and almost finishedit in the grass at the door of the blacksmith's shop. It was alovely show of beauty that is as fresh the hundredth time asthe first. But though Elizabeth looked at it and admired it, she was thinking of something else. 

"You have no overshoes, " said Winthrop, when they had set outon their way; -- "I am afraid you are not countrywoman enoughto bear this. "

"O yes I am, " said Elizabeth, -- "I don't mind it -- I don'tcare for it. But Mr. Winthrop --"

"What were you going to say?" he asked, when he had waitedhalf a minute to find out. 

"You understood that I did not mean to speak of your mother, when I said that, about thinking it seemed tame to let one'swishes die out? -- I excepted her entirely in my thought -- Iwas speaking quite in the abstract. "

"I know that, Miss Elizabeth. "

She was quite satisfied with the smile with which he said it. 

"How much better that odd little black child liked you thanshe did me, " she went on with a change of subject and tonetogether. 

"You were a little further off, " said Winthrop. 

"Further off?" said Elizabeth. 

"I suppose she thought so. "

"Then one must come near people in order to do them good?"

"One mustn't be _too_ far off, " said Winthrop, "to have one'swords reach them. "

"But I didn't mean to be far off, " said Elizabeth. 

"I didn't mean to be near. "

Elizabeth looked at him, but he was grave; and then shesmiled, and then laughed. 

"You've hit it!" she exclaimed. "I shall remember that. "

"Take care, Miss Elizabeth, " said Winthrop, as her footslipped in the muddy way, -- "or you will have more to rememberthan would be convenient. You had better take my arm. "

So she did; musing a little curiously at herself and that arm, which she had seen in a shirt-sleeve, carrying a pickaxe onshoulder; and making up her mind in spite of it all that shedidn't care! So the walk home was not otherwise thancomfortable. Indeed the beauty of it was more than onceremarked on by both parties. 

"Well!" said Rose, when at last Elizabeth came into the roomwhere she was sitting, -- "have you got home?"

"Yes. "

"What have you been doing all this while?"

"Getting very angry at you in the first place; and thencooling down as usual into the reflection that it was notworth while. "

"Well, I hope Winthrop made good use of his opportunity?"

"Yes, he did, " said Elizabeth coolly, taking off her things. 

"And you have engaged him at last as your admirer?"

"Not at all; -- I have only engaged a little black girl to bemy servant. "

"A servant! What?"

"What do you mean by 'what'?" said Elizabeth contemptuously. 

"I mean, what sort of a servant?"

"I am sure I don't know -- a black servant. "

"But what for?"

"To do my bidding. "

"But what is she? and where did you pick her up?"

"She is an odd little fish called Clam; and I didn't pick herup at all; -- Mr. Landholm did that. "

"O ho!" said Rose, -- "it's a joint concern! -- that's it. But Ithink you are beginning to make up your household very early. "

Elizabeth flung down her shoe and lifted her head, and MissCadwallader shrunk; even before her companion said withimperious emphasis, "Rose, how dare you! --"

Rose did not dare, against the flushed face and eye of firewhich confronted her. She fell back into her chair and herbook and was dumb. 

CHAPTER XX. 

_Ford_. They do say, if money go before, all ways do lie open. _Fal_. Money is a good soldier, sir, and will on. MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 

Somewhat to Winthrop's surprise, Clam came the next day toremind him of his promise; very much in earnest to wear aclean frock and have her dinner regular. She was duly bound, and entered into clean service accordingly. The indentureswere made out to Miss Haye; but for the present Clam was putto learn her business under somebody that knew it; and forthat end was finally sent to Mrs. Landholm. A week or two withMrs. Nettley proved to the satisfaction of both parties thatneither would much advantage the other. At Shahweetah, Clam, as Mrs. Landholm expressed it, "took a new start, " and got onadmirably. What much favoured this, was the fact that shespeedily became very much attached to the whole family; withthe single exception of Karen, between whom and herself therewas an unallayed state of friction; a friction that probablyserved only to better Clam's relish of her dinner, while poorKaren declared "she didn't leave her no rest day nor night. "

"She's not a bad child, Karen, " said her mistress. 

"Which part of her 's good?" said Karen. "'Taint her eyes, nor her fingers; and if the Bible didn't say there wa'n't nosuch a fountain, I should think her tongue was one o' themfountains that sent out at the same place both salt water andfresh. "

"Her fingers are pretty good, Karen. "

"There's a two-sided will in 'em, Mrs. Landholm. "

There was no two-sided will in Clam's first friend, nor in theenergies which were steadily bearing him on towards his aim. Steadily and surely, as he knew. But his life in those dayshad almost as little to tell of, as it had much to do. Fromearly morning till -- almost till early morning again, or tilla new day had begun to count the hours, -- every minute had itswork; yet the record of the whole could be given in very fewwords, and those would not be interesting. How should therecord be, when the reality was not, even to himself. It wasall preparatory work; it must be done; but the interest of thematter lay beyond, at that point whither all these effortstended. Meanwhile work and have patience, and work, -- was theepitome of his life. 

There were some breaks, but not many. Now and then a swift andsweet run home, to live for a moment in the midst of all thispreparing to live; to rest among the home hearts; to breathe afew breaths in absolute freedom; to exchange Mr. De Wort'sdusty office for the bright little keeping-room of thefarmhouse, and forget the business of the hard brick and stonecity under the shadow or the sunshine that rested on Wut-a-qut-o. Then Winthrop threw off his broadcloth coat and was afarmer again. Then Mrs. Landholm's brow laid down its care, and shewed to her son only her happy face. Then poor Winifredwas strong and well and joyous, in the spite of sickness andweakness and nervous ail. And then also, Clam sprang roundwith great energy, and was as Karen averred, "fifty timesworse and better than ever. "

But all faded and died away, save the sweet memory andrefreshment; that staid yet a little while. Winthrop went backto his musty parchments and lonely attic; and the littlefamily at home gathered itself together for a new season ofduty-doing, and hope, and looking forward. The sunshine andthe shadow slept upon Wut-a-qut-o, as it did a little whileago; but neither sunshine nor shadow was the same thing now, for Winthrop was away. 

He had lost perhaps less than they; though the balance wasstruck pretty fair. But he was actively bending every energyto the accomplishment of a great object. The intensity ofeffort might swallow up some other things, and theconsciousness of sure and growing success might make amendsfor them. Besides, he had been long fighting the battle oflife away from home, and was accustomed to it; they never gotaccustomed to it. Every fresh coming home was the pledge of afresh parting, the pleasure of the one not more sure than thepain of the other. If Winthrop had changed, in all these yearsand goings and comings, it might have been different; if theycould have found that their lost treasure was less true orstrong or fair, than when they first let it go. But he was soexactly the same Winthrop that they had been sorry for thatfirst time, that they could only be sorry again with the samesorrow; -- the same, but for the lost novelty of that firsttime, and the added habit of patience, and the nearer hope ofhis and their reward. 

So through the first winter and the first summer, and thesecond winter and the second summer, of his cityapprenticeship, Winthrop wrought on; now with a cold room andlittle fire in his chimney, and now with the sun beating uponthe roof, and the only hope of night's sea-breeze. But thefarmer's boy had known cold and heat a great while ago, and hecould bear both. He could partly forget both, sometimes inliterary unbending with Mr. Herder and his friends; and atother times in a solitary walk on the Green overlooking thebay, to catch the sea-breeze more fresh and soon, and look upthe river channel towards where the shadows lay upon Wut-a-qut-o. And sometimes in a visit at Mr. Haye's. 

Of late, in the second summer, this last sort of pleasure-taking grew to be more frequent. Mr. Herder was less visited, and Mr. Haye more. Winthrop was always welcome, but there wasno change in the manner of his being received. Unless perhapsa little more graciousness on Elizabeth's part, and a trifleless on Rose's, might be quoted. 

So the sea-breezes blew through the dog-days; and Septemberushered in and ushered out its storms; and October came, clearand fair, with strength and health for body and mind. WithOctober came Rufus, having just made an end of his work in theNorth country. He came but for a few days' stay in passingfrom one scene of labours to another. For those few days heabode with his brother, sharing his room and bed. 

"Well, Winthrop, I've stuck to my choice, " he remarked, thesecond evening of his being there. The tone indicated theopening of a great budget of thoughts. Winthrop was bendingover a parchment-coloured volume, and Rufus pacing up and downthe longest stretch of the little room. 

"I am glad of it, " said Winthrop, without looking up. 

"I am not sure that I am. "

"What's the matter?"

"I don't see that I gain much by it, and I certainly lose. "

"What do you expect to gain?"

"Nothing but money, -- and I don't get that. "

"It's safe, isn't it?"

"Yes, and so are winter's snows, in their treasury; -- and Icould as soon get it by asking for it. "

"Let us hope it will come with the snows, " said Winthrop, hishead still bent down over his book. 

"You may talk; -- it is easy waiting for you. "

"Query, how that would give me a right to talk, " said Winthropturning over a leaf; -- "supposing it to be a fact; of which Ihave some doubts. "

"What have you been doing all to-day?"

"The usual routine -- which after all is but preparing to do. "

"What has been the routine to-day?"

"You saw my breakfast and saw me get it. -- Then I went out. --Then I read, according to custom. "

"What?"

"Classics. "

"Do you!"

"For awhile. The rest of the morning between engrossing deedsand the Record Office. First half of the afternoon, or rathera larger proportion, ditto; the rest to meet my friendsMessrs. Jones and Satterthwaite. "

"Satterthwaite! -- what does _he_ want?"

"To read Greek with me. "

"Greek! What has put that into his head? Bob. Satterthwaite!"-- and Rufus threw back his head and laughed in a great stateof amusement. "What has put _that_ into his head? -- eh, Winthrop?"

"I don't inquire. It puts money in my pocket. "

"Not much, " said Rufus. 

"No, not much. "

"What's the reason, do you think? What moves _him_ to woo theMuses? -- I'm afraid it's because he thinks it is a preliminarywooing he must go through before he can be successful inanother quarter. "

And again Rufus laughed, in high delight. 

"I have no business with that, " said Winthrop. 

"What are you doing now?"

"Studying law. "

"Stop. "

"What for?"

"To talk to me. "

"It seems to me I have been doing that for some time, " saidWinthrop, without looking off his book. 

"But I haven't begun. Winthrop, -- I have a great mind to giveup this engineering business. "

"To do what instead?"

"Why -- you know I shall have some money coming to me -- quite alittle sum; -- Mr. Haye has very kindly offered to put me inthe way of laying it out to good advantage, and eventually ofgetting into another line of occupation which would at thesame time be more lucrative, less laborious, and would keep mein the regions of civilization. -- And perhaps -- Winthrop --something might follow thereupon, --"

"What?" said his brother looking up. 

"Something --"

"More definite in your purpose than in your speech. "

"Not my purpose, exactly, " said Rufus, -- "but in possibility. "

"There is no peg in possibility for a wise man to hang his capon. "

"Perhaps I am not a wise man, " said Rufus, with a very queerface, as if his mind were giving an askance look at thesubject. 

"That's a supposititious case I shall leave you to deal with. "

"Why it's the very sort of case it's your business to dealwith, " said Rufus. "If the world was full of wise men you'dstand a pretty fair chance of starving, Governor. Butseriously, -- do you think it is unbecoming a wise man to takeany lawful means of keeping out of the way of that same devilof starvation?"

"Do you mean to say that you are in any danger of it?" saidWinthrop looking up again. 

"Why no, -- not exactly; taking the words literally. But onemay starve and yet have enough to eat. "

"If one refuses one's food. "

"If one don't! I tell you, I have been starving for these twoyears past. It is not living, to make to-day only feed to-morrow. Besides -- I don't see any harm in purchasing, if onecan, an exemption from the universal doom of eating one'sbread in the sweat of one's brow. "

"I think it depends entirely on what one pays for thepurchase, " said Winthrop. 

"Suppose one pays nothing. "

"One executes a most unaccountable business transaction. "

Rufus stopped and looked at him, and then took up his walk, and half laughing went on. 

"Suppose we leave talking in the dark, and understand oneanother. Do you know what I am driving at?"

"Have you set off?" said Winthrop, with again a glance whichseemed to add to Rufus's amusement. 

"No, " he said, -- "I am just waiting for you to give me leave. "

"The reins are not in my hands. "

"Yes they are. Seriously, Winthrop, do you know what we aretalking about? -- What do you think of my making suit to one ofthese ladies?"

"I do not think about it. "

"You do not conceive it would be any disfavour to either ofthem to induce her to accept me, I suppose. -- What do yousay?"

"You are indifferent towards which of them the suit shouldincline?" said Winthrop. 

"Why, that's as it may be -- I haven't thought enough about itto know. They're a pretty fair pair to choose from --"

"Supposing that you have the choice, " said Winthrop. 

"Do you know anything to the contrary? --Has anybody else afairer entrance than myself?"

"I am not on sufficiently near terms with the family to beable to inform you. "

"Do _you_ think of entering _your_ plough, Governor?"

"Not in your field. "

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I am not in your way. "

"Shall I be in yours?"

"No, " said his brother coolly. 

"In whose way then?"

"I am afraid in your own, Will. "

"How do you mean?" asked the other a little fiercely. 

"If you are so intent upon marrying money-bags, you may chanceto get a wife that will not suit you. "

"You must explain yourself!" said Rufus haughtily. "In whatrespect would either of these two not suit me?"

"Of two so different, it may safely be affirmed that if onewould the other would not. "

"Two so different!" said Rufus. "What's the matter with eitherof them?"

"There is this the matter with both --that you do not knowthem. "

"I _do_ know them!"

"From the rest of the world; but not from each other. "

"Why not from each other?"

"Not enough for your liking or your judgment to tell whichwould suit you. "

"Why would not either suit?" said Rufus. 

"I think -- if you ask me -- that one would not make you happy, in the long run; and the other, with your present views andaims, you could not make happy. "

"Which is which?" said Rufus, laughing and drawing up a chairopposite his brother. 

"Either of them is which, " said Winthrop. "Such being thecase, I don't know that it is material to inquire. "

"It is very material! for I cannot be satisfied without theanswer. I am in earnest in the whole matter, Winthrop. "

"So am I, very much in earnest. "

"Which of them should I not make happy?" -- Rufus went on. --"Rose? -- She is easily made happy. "

"So easily, that you would be much more than enough for it. "

"Then it is the other one whose happiness you are afraid for?"

"I don't think it is in much danger from you. "

"Why? --what then?" said Rufus quickly. 

"I doubt whether any one could succeed with her whose firstobject was something else. "

Rufus drew his fingers through his hair, in silence, for abouta minute and a half; with a face of thoughtful and somewhatdisagreeable consideration. 

"And with the other one you think he could?"

"What?"

"Succeed? -- one whose first object, as you say, was somethingelse?"

"With the other I think anybody could. "

"I don't know but I like that, " said Rufus; -- "it is amiable. She has more simplicity. She is a lovely creature!"

"If you ask your eye. "

"If I ask yours!" --

"Every man must see with his own eyes, " said Winthrop. 

"Don't yours see her lovely?"

"They might, if they had not an inward counsellor that taughtthem better. "

"She is very sweet-tempered and sweet-mannered, " said Rufus. 

"Very. "

"Don't you think so?"

"Certainly -- when it suits her. "

"When it suits her!"

"Yes. She is naturally rude, and politically polite. "

"And how's the other one? isn't she naturally rude too?"

"Not politically anything. "

"And you think she wouldn't have me?"

"I am sure she would not, if she knew your motive. "

"My motive! -- but my motive might change, " said Rufus, pushingback his chair and beginning to walk the floor again. "Itisn't necessary that my regards should be confined to hergracious adjunctive recommendations. --"

He walked for some time without reply, and again the leaves ofWinthrop's book said softly now and then that Winthrop's headwas busy with them. 

"Governor, you are very unsatisfactory!" said his brother atlength, standing now in front of him. 

Winthrop looked up and smiled and said, "What would you have?"

"Your approbation!" -- was the strong and somewhat bitterthought in Rufus's mind. He paused before he spoke. 

"But Governor, really I am tired of this life -- it isn't whatI am fit for; -- and why not escape from it, if I can, by someagreeable road that will do nobody any harm?"

"With all my heart, " said Winthrop. "I'll help you. "

"Well? --"

"Well --"

"You think this is not such a one?"

"The first step in it being a stumble. "

"To whom would it bring harm, Governor?"

"The head must lower when the foot stumbles, " said Winthrop. "That is one harm. "

"But you are begging the question!" said Rufus a littleimpatiently. 

"And you have granted it. "

"I haven't!" said Rufus. "I don't see it. I don't see thestumbling or the lowering. I should not feel myself lowered bymarrying a fine woman, and I hope she would not feel her ownself-respect injured by marrying me. "

"You will not stand so high upon her money-bags as upon yourown feet. "

"Why not have the advantage of both?"

"You cannot. People always sit down upon money-bags. The onlyexception is in the case of money-bags they have filledthemselves. "

Rufus looked at Winthrop's book for three minutes in silence. 

"Well, why not then take at once the ease, for which thealternative is a long striving?"

"If you can. But the long striving is not the whole of thealternative; with that you lose the fruits of the striving --all that makes ease worth having. "

"But I should not relinquish them, " said Rufus. "I shall notsit down upon my money-bags. "

"They are not _your_ money-bags. "

"They will be -- if I prove successful. "

"And how will you prove successful?"

"Why!" -- said Rufus, -- "what a question! --"

"I wish you would answer it nevertheless -- not to me, but toyourself. "

Whether Rufus did or not, the answer never came out. He pacedthe floor again; several times made ready to speak, and thenchecked himself. 

"So you are entirely against me, --" he said at length. 

"I am not against you, Will; -- I am _for_ you. "

"You don't approve of my plan. "

"No --I do not. "

"I wish you would say why. "

"I hardly need, " said Winthrop with a smile. "You have said itall to yourself. "

"Notwithstanding which assumption, I should like to hear yousay it. "

"For the greater ease of attack and defence?"

"If you please. For anything. "

"What do you want me to do, Will?" said Winthrop looking up. 

"To tell me why I should not marry Miss Haye or MissCadwallader. "

"You not knowing, yourself. "

"Yes -- I don't, " said Rufus. 

Winthrop turned over a few leaves of his book and then spoke. 

"You are stronger, not to lean on somebody else's strength. You are more independent, not to lean at all. You arehonester, not to gain anything under false pretences. And youare better to be yourself, Will Landholm, than the husband ofany heiress the sun shines upon, at such terms. "

"What terms?"

"False pretences. "

"What false pretences?"

"Asking the hand, when you only want the key that is in it. Professing to give yourself, when in truth your purpose is togive nothing that is not bought and paid for. "

Rufus looked very grave and somewhat disturbed. 

"That's a very hard characterizing of the matter, Governor, "said he. "I don't think I deserve it. "

"I hope you don't, " said his brother. 

Rufus began again to measure the little apartment with hislong steps. 

"But this kind of thing is done every day, Winthrop. "

"By whom?" said Winthrop. 

"Why! -- by very good men; -- by everybody. "

"Not by everybody. "

"By what sort of people is it not done?"

"By you and me, " said Winthrop smiling. 

"You think then that a poor man should never marry a richwoman?"

"Never, -- unless he can forget that she is rich and he poor. "

Rufus walked for some time in silence. 

"Well, " he said, in a tone between dry and injured, -- "I amgoing off to the West again, luckily; and I shall have noopportunity for the present to disturb you by making falsepretences, of any sort. "

"Is opportunity all that you lack?" said Winthrop looking up, and with so simple an expression that Rufus quitted his walkand his look together. 

"Why did you never make trial for yourself, Winthrop?" hesaid. "You have a remarkably fine chance; and fine openingtoo, I should think. You are evidently very well received downyonder. "

"I have a theory of my own too, on the subject, " saidWinthrop, -- "somewhat different from yours, but still enoughto work by. "

"What's that?"

"I have no mind to marry any woman who is unwilling to beobliged to me. "

Rufus looked at his brother and at the fireplace awhile ingravity. 

"You are proud, " he said at length. 

"I must have come to it by living so high in the world, " saidWinthrop. 

"So high?" -- said Rufus. 

"As near the sun as I can get. I thought it was very near, some time in August last. "

Winthrop laid by his book; and the two young men stood severalminutes, quite silent, on opposite sides of the hearth, withfolded hands and meditative countenances; but the face of theone looked like the muddy waters of the Shatemuc tossed andtumbled under a fierce wind; the other's was calm and steadyas Wut-a-qut-o's brow. 

"So you won't have any woman that you don't _oblige_ to marryyou!" Rufus burst out. "Ha, ha, ha! -- ho, ho, ho! --"

Winthrop's mouth gave the slightest good-humoured token ofunderstanding him, -- it could not be called a smile. Rufus hadhis laugh out, and cooled down into deeper gravity thanbefore. 

"Well!" -- said he, -- "I'll go off to my fate, at the limitlesswild of the West. It seems a rough sort of fate. "

"Make your fate for yourself, " said Winthrop. 

"_You_ will, " said his brother. "And it will be what you will, and that's a fair one. And you will oblige anybody you have amind to. And marry an heiress. "

"Don't look much like it -- things at present, " said Winthrop. "I don't see the way very clear. "

"As for me, I don't know what ever I shall come to, " Rufusadded. 

"Come to bed at present, " said Winthrop. "That is one step. "

"One step towards what?"

"Sleep in the first place; and after that, anything. "

"What a strange creature you are, Governor! and howdoubtlessly and dauntlessly you pursue your way, " Rufus saidsighing. 

"Sighs never filled anybody's sails yet, " said Winthrop. "Theyare the very airs of a calm. "

"Calm!" said Rufus. 

"A dead calm, " said his brother laughing. 

"I wish I had _your_ calm, " said Rufus. And with that theevening ended. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

O what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do! notknowing what they do!MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 

One morning, about these days, Mr. And Miss Haye were seatedat the opposite ends of the breakfast-table. They had beenthere for some time, silently buttering rolls and sippingcoffee, in a leisurely way on Mr. Haye's part, and anungratified one on the part of his daughter. He wasconsidering, also in a leisurely sort of way, the columns ofthe morning paper; she considering him and the paper, and atintervals knocking with her knife against the edge of herplate, -- a meditative and discontented knife, and an impassiveand unimpressed plate. So breakfast went on till Elizabeth'scup was nearly emptied. 

"Father, " said she, "it is very unsociable and stupid for youto read the paper, and me to eat my breakfast alone. You mightread aloud, if you must read. "

Mr. Haye brought his head round from the paper long enough toswallow half a cupful of coffee. 

"Where's Rose?"

"In bed, for aught I know. There is no moving her till she hasa mind. "

"'Seems to me, it is quite as difficult to move you, " saidher father. 

"Ay, but then I _have a mind_ -- which makes all the difference. "

Mr. Haye went back to his paper and considered it till therest of his cup of coffee was thoroughly cold. Elizabethfinished her breakfast, and sat, drawn back into herself, witharms folded, looking into the fireplace. Finding his coffeecold, Mr. Haye's attention came at length back upon hisdaughter. 

"What do you want me to talk about?" he said. 

"It don't signify, your talking about anything now, " saidElizabeth. "Everything is cold -- mind and matter together. Idon't know how you'll find the coffee, father. "

Mr. Haye stirred it, with a discontented look. 

"Rose is late, " he remarked again. 

"_That's_ nothing new, " said Elizabeth. "Late is her time. "

Mr. Haye drunk his cold cupful. 

"You're very fond of her, Lizzie, aren't you?"

"No, " said Elizabeth. "I don't think I am. "

"Not fond of her!" said Mr. Haye in a very surprised tone. 

"No, " said Elizabeth, -- "I don't think I am. "

"I thought you were, " said her father, in a voice that spokeboth chagrin and displeasure. 

"What made you think so?"

"You always seemed fond of her, " said Mr. Haye. 

"I can't have seemed so, for I never was so. There isn'tenough of her to be fond of. I talk to her, and like her aftera fashion, because she is the only person near me that I cantalk to -- that's all. "

"_I_ am fond of her, " said Mr. Haye. 

"It takes more to make me fond of anybody, " said his daughter. "I know _you_ are. "

"What does Rose want, to have the honour of your goodopinion?"

"O don't talk in that tone!" said Elizabeth. "I had rather youwould not talk at all. You have chosen an unhappy subject. Ittakes a good deal to make me like anybody much, father. "

"What does Rose want?"

"As near as possible, everything, " said Elizabeth, -- "if you_will_ have the answer. "

"What?"

"Why father, she has nothing in the world but a very prettyface. "

"You grant her that, " said Mr. Haye. 

"Yes, I grant her that, though it is a great while since _I_ sawit pretty. Father, I care nothing at all for any face whichhas nothing beneath the outside. It's a barren prospect to me, however fair the outside may be -- I don't care to let my eyedwell on it. "

"How do you like the prospect of your own, in the glass?"

"I should be very sorry if I didn't think it had infinitelymore in it than the face we have been speaking of. It is notso beautifully tinted, nor so regularly cut; but _I_ like itbetter. "

"I am afraid few people will agree with you, " said her fatherdryly. 

"There's one thing, " said Elizabeth, -- "I sha'n't know it ifthey don't. But then I see my face at a disadvantage, lookingstupidly at itself in the glass -- I hope it does better toother people. "

"I didn't know you thought quite so much of yourself, " saidMr. Haye. 

"I haven't told you the half, " said Elizabeth, looking at him. "I am afraid I think more of myself than anybody else does, orever will. "

"If you do it so well for yourself, I'm afraid other peoplewon't save you the trouble, " said her father. 

"I'm afraid _you_ will not, by the tone in which you speak, father. "

"What has set you against Rose?"

"Nothing in the world! I am not set against her. Nothing inthe world but her own emptiness and impossibility of beinganything like a companion to me. "

"Elizabeth! --"

"Father! -- What's the matter?"

"How dare you talk in that manner?"

"Why father, " said Elizabeth, her tone somewhat quieting ashis was roused, -- "I never saw the thing yet I didn't daresay, if I thought it. Why shouldn't I?"

"Because it is not true -- a word of it. "

"I'm sure I wish it wasn't true, " said Elizabeth. "What I saidwas true. It's a sorrowful truth to me, too, for I haven't asoul to talk to that can understand me -- not even you, father, it seems. "

"I wish I didn't understand you, " said Mr. Haye. 

"It's nothing very dreadful to understand, " said Elizabeth, --"what I have been saying now. I wonder how you can think somuch of it. I know you love Rose better than I do. "

"I love her so well --" said Mr. Haye, and stopped. 

"So well that what?"

"That I can hardly talk to you with temper. "

"Then don't let us talk about it at all, " said Elizabeth, whose own heightened colour shewed that her temper was moving. 

"Unhappily it is necessary, " said Mr. Haye dryly. 

"Why in the world is it necessary? You can't alter the matter, father, by talking; -- it must stand so. "

"Stand how?"

"Why, as it does stand -- Rose and I as near as possiblenothing to each other. "

"Things can hardly stand so, " said Mr. Haye. "You must beeither less or more. "

Elizabeth sat silent and looked at him. He looked at nothingbut what was on his plate. 

"How would you like to have Rose take your place?"

"My place?" said Elizabeth. 

"Yes, " said Mr. Haye laconically. 

"No place that I fill, _could_ be filled by Rose, " saidElizabeth, with the slightest perceptible lifting of her headand raising of her brow. 

"We will try that, " said Mr. Haye bitterly; "for I will puther over your head, and we will see. "

"Put her _where?_" said Elizabeth. 

"Over this house -- over my establishment -- at this table -- inyour place as the head of this family. "

"You will take _her_ for your daughter, and discard me?" saidElizabeth. 

"No -- I will not, --" said Mr. Haye, cutting a piece ofbeefsteak in a way that shewed him indifferent to its fate. "Iwill not! -- I will make her my wife! --"

Elizabeth had risen from the table and now she stood on therug before the fire, with her arms behind her, looking down atthe breakfast-table and her father. Literally, looking down_upon_ them. Her cheeks were very pale, but fires that were notheaven-lit were burning somewhere within her, shining out ather eye and now and then colouring her face with a suddenflare. There was a pause. Mr. Haye tried what he could do withhis beefsteak; and his daughter's countenance shewed the cloudand the flame of the volcano by turns. For awhile the fatherand daughter held off from each other. But Mr. Haye'sbreakfast gave symptoms of coming to an end. 

"Father, " said Elizabeth, bringing her hands in front of herand clasping them, -- "say you did not mean that!"

"Ha! --" said Mr. Haye without looking at her, and brushing thecrumbs from his pantaloons. 

Elizabeth waited. 

"What did you mean?"

"I spoke plain enough, " said he. 

"Do you mean to say that you _meant_ that?" said Elizabeth, thevolcanic fires leaping up bright. 

"Meant it?" said Mr. Haye, looking at her. "Yes, I meant it. "

"Father, you did not! --"

Mr. Haye looked again at her hands and her face, and answeredcoolly. 

"Ask Rose whether I meant it, --"

And left the room. 

Elizabeth neither saw nor heard, for some minutes; they mighthave been many or few. Then she became aware that the servantwas asking her if he should leave the breakfast-table stillfor Miss Cadwallader; and her answer, "No -- take it away!" --was given with startling decision. The man had known his youngmistress before to speak with lips that were supreme in theirexpression. He only obeyed, without even wondering. Elizabethin a whirl of feeling that like the smoke of the volcano hideverything but itself, went and stood in the window; presentto nothing but herself; seeing neither the street without northe house within. Wrapped in that smoke, she did not know whenthe servant went out, nor whether anybody else came in. Shestood there pale, with lips set, her hands folded against herwaist, and pressing there with a force the muscles neverrelaxed. How long she did not know. Something aroused her, andshe discerned, through the smoke, another figure in the roomand coming towards her. Elizabeth stepped out from the window, without altering anything but her place, and stood opposite toWinthrop Landholm. If it had been Queen Elizabeth of old andone of her courtiers, it would have been all one; the youngman's respectful greeting could not have been met with moresuperb regality of head and brow. 

"I have a letter for Mr. Haye, " said Winthrop, "which mybrother left in my charge. That brought me here this morning, and I ventured to make business an excuse for pleasure. "

"It may lie on the table till he comes, " said Elizabeth withthe slightest bend of her stately little head. She might havemeant the letter or the pleasure or the business, or allthree. 

"You are well, Miss Haye?" said Winthrop doubtfully. 

"No -- I am well enough, " said Elizabeth. A revulsion offeeling had very nearly brought down her head in a flood oftears; but she kept that back carefully and perfectly; and thenext instant she started with another change, for Rose camein. _She_ gave Winthrop a very smiling and bright salutation;which he acknowledged silently, gravely, and even distantly. 

"Aren't you well, Mr. Landholm?" was Rose's next instantquestion, most sweetly given. 

"Very well, " he said with another bow. 

"What have you been talking about, to get so melancholy?Lizzie --"

But Rose caught sight of the gathered blackness of that face, and stopped short. Elizabeth bestowed one glance upon her; andas she then turned to the other person of the party therevulsion came over her again, so strong that it wasovercoming. For a minute her hands went to her face, and itwas with extreme difficulty that the rising heart was keptdown. Will had the mastery, however, and her face looked upagain more dark than ever. 

"We have talked of nothing at all, " she said. "Mr. Landholmonly came to bring a letter. "

Mr. Landholm could not stay after that, for anything. He bowedhimself out; and left Elizabeth standing in the middle of thefloor, looking as if the crust of the earth had given wayunder her and 'chaos was come again. ' She stood there as shehad stood in the window, still and cold; and Rose afar off bythe chimney corner stood watching her, as one would a wildbeast or a venomous creature in the room, not a little fearmingled with a shadow of something else in her face. 

Elizabeth's first movement was to walk a few steps up anddown, swinging one clenched hand, but half the breadth of theroom was all she went. She sunk down there beside a chair andhid her face, exclaiming or rather groaning out, one after theother, -- "Oh! -- oh!" -- in such tones as are dragged from veryfar down in the heart; careless of Rose's hearing her. 

"What is the matter, Lizzie?" -- her companion venturedtimidly. But Elizabeth gave no answer; and neither of themstirred for many minutes, an occasional uneasy flutter ofRose's being the exception. The question at last was askedover again, and responded to. 

"That my father has disgraced himself, and that you are thecause!"

"There's no disgrace, " said Rose. 

"Don't say he has not!" said Elizabeth, looking up with an eyethat glared upon her adversary. "And before he had done it, Iwish you had never been born, -- or I. "

"It's no harm, --" said Rose confusedly. 

"Harm! -- harm, --" repeated Elizabeth; then putting her facedown again; "Oh! -- what's the use of living, in such a world!"

"I don't see what harm it does to you, " said Rose, mutteringher words. 

"Harm?" repeated Elizabeth. "If it was right to wish it, --which I believe it isn't, -- I could wish that I was dead. Italmost seems to me I wish I were!"

"You're not sure about it, " said Rose. 

"No, I am not, " said Elizabeth looking up at her again witheyes of fire and a face from which pain and passion had drivenall but livid colour, -- but looking at her steadily, --"because there is something after death; and I am not surethat I am ready for it. I _dare_ not say I wish I was dead, RoseCadwallader, or you would drive me to it!"

"I'm sure, I've done nothing, " -- said Rose whimpering. 

"Done nothing!" said Elizabeth with a concentrated power ofexpression. "Oh I wish you had done anything, before my fatherhad lowered himself in my eyes and you had been the cause! --"

"I'm not the cause of anything, " said Rose. 

Elizabeth did not answer; she was crouching by the side of thechair in an uneasy position that said how far from ease thespirit was. 

"And he hasn't lowered himself, " Rose went on pouting. 

"It is done!" -- said Elizabeth, getting up from the floor andstanding, not unlike a lightning-struck tree. -- "I wonder whatwill become of me! --"

"What are you going to do?"

"I would find a way out of this house, if I knew how. "

"That's easy enough, " said Rose with a slight sneer. "Thereare plenty of ways. "

"Easy enough, --if one could find the right one. "

"Why you've had me in the house a great while, already, " saidRose. 

"I _have had_ --" said Elizabeth. -- "I wonder if I shall everhave anything again!"

"Why what have you lost?"

"Everything -- except myself. "

"You have a great respect for Mr. Haye, " said Rose. 

"I had. "

Rose at this point thought fit to burst into a great fit oftears. Elizabeth stood by the table, taking up and puttingdown one book after another, as if the touch of them gave herfingers pain; and looking as if, as she said, she had losteverything. Then stood with folded arms eyeing something thatwas not before her; and then slowly walked out of the room. 

"Lizzie --" said Rose. 

"What?" said Elizabeth stopping at the door. 

"What's the use of taking things so?"

"The use of necessity. "

"But we can be just as we were before. "

Elizabeth went on and gained her own room; and there she andpain had a fight that lasted the rest of the day. 

The fight was not over, and weary traces of it were upon herface, when late in the afternoon she went out to try thechange of a walk. The walk made no change whatever. As she wascoming up the Parade, she was met by Winthrop going down. Ifhe had seen only the gravity and reserve of the morning, it isprobable he would not have stopped to speak to her; but thoughthose were in her face still, there was beside a weary set ofthe brow and sorrowful line of the lips, very unwonted there, and the cheeks were pale; and instead of passing with a merebow he came up and offered his hand. Elizabeth took it, butwithout the least brightening of face. 

"Are you out for a walk?" said he. 

"No -- I am for home -- I have had a walk. "

"It is a very fine afternoon, " said he, turning and beginningto walk along slowly with her. 

"Is it?"

"Haven't you found out that it is?"

"No. "

"Where have you been, not to know it?"

"Hum --" said Elizabeth, -- "if you mean where my _mind_ hasbeen, that is one question; as for my bodily self, I have beenon the Castle Green. "

"You have lost your walk, " said he. "Don't you feel inclinedto turn about with me and try to pick up what you came outfor?"

"Better there than at home, " thought Elizabeth, and she turnedabout accordingly. 

"People come out for a variety of things, " she remarkedhowever. 

"That is true, " said Winthrop smiling. "I am afraid I washasty in presuming I could help you to find your object. I wasthinking only of mine. "

"I don't know but you could, as well as anybody, " saidElizabeth. "If you could give me your mother's secret for notminding disagreeable things. "

"I am afraid I cannot say she does not mind them, " heanswered. 

"What then? -- I thought you said so. "

"I do not remember what I said. I might have said that shedoes not struggle with them -- those at least which cannot beremoved by struggling. "

"Not struggle with them?" said Elizabeth. "Sit down quietlywith them!"

"Yes, " he said gravely. "Not at first, but at last. "

"I don't believe in it, " said Elizabeth. "That is, I don'tbelieve in it as a general thing. It may be possible for her. I am sure it never could be for me. "

Winthrop was silent, and they walked so for the space of halfa block. 

"Would she say that it is possible for everybody?" inquiredElizabeth then. 

"I believe she would say that it is not temperament, norcircumstance, nor stoical philosophy. "

"What then?"

"A drop of some pacifying oil out of a heaven-wroughtchalice. "

"I don't think figures are the easiest mode of getting atthings, Mr. Landholm. You don't make this clear. "

He smiled a little, as he pushed open the little wicket gateof the Green, and without saying anything more they saunteredin, along the broad gravel walk sweeping round the enclosure;slowly, till they had passed the fortifications and stoodlooking upon the bay over towards Blue Point. The sun wasalmost on the low ruddied horizon; a stirring north breezecame down from the up country, roughening the bay, and thesunbeams leapt across from the opposite western shore giving atouch of light to every wave. The air was very fine; the skywithout a cloud, except some waiting flecks of vapour aroundthe sun. The two friends stood still some little time, to lookor to think; looking especially at the fair glowing westernheaven, and the tossing water between, every roll of which waswith a dance and a sparkle. 

"Does _this_ make anything clear?" asked Winthrop, when sometime had gone by without speech or movement from either ofthem. 

He spoke lightly enough; but the answer was given in a tonethat bespoke its truth. 

"Oh no! --"

And Elizabeth's face was turned away so that he could seenothing but her bonnet, beside the tremulous swell of thethroat; that he _did_ see. 

"It has very often such an effect for me, " -- he went on in thesame tone. "And I often come here for the very purpose oftrying it; when my head gets thick over law-papers. "

"That may do for some things, " said Elizabeth. "It won't forothers. "

"This would work well along with my mother's recipe, " he said. 

"What is that?" said Elizabeth harshly. "You didn't tell me. "

"I am hardly fit to tell you, " he answered, "for I do notthoroughly know it myself. But I know she would send you tothe Bible, --and tell you of a hand that she trusts to doeverything for her, and that she knows will do all thingswell, and kindly. "

"But does that hinder disagreeables from being disagreeables?"said Elizabeth with some impatience of tone. "Does that hinderaches from being pain?"

"Hardly. But I believe it stops or soothes the aching. Ibelieve it, because I have seen it. "

Elizabeth stood still, her bosom swelling, and that flutteringof her throat growing more fluttering. It got beyond hercommand. The mixed passions and vexations, and with them acertain softer and more undefined regret, reached a pointwhere she had no control over them. The tears would come, andonce arrived at that, they took their own way; with such arush of passionate indulgence, that a thought of the time andthe place and the witness, made nothing, or came in only toswell the rush. The flood poured over the barrier with suchjoy at being set free, that it carried all before it. Elizabeth was just conscious of being placed on a seat, nearto which it happened that she was standing; and she knewnothing more. She did not even know how completely she wasleft to herself. Not till the fever of passion was brought alittle down, and recollection and shame began to take theirturn, and she checked her tears and stole a secret glancearound to see what part of the gravel walk supported a certainpair of feet, for higher than the ground she dared not look. Her surprise was a good deal to find that her glance must takequite a wide range to meet with them; and then venturing asingle upward look, she saw that her companion standing at alittle distance was not watching her, nor apparently had been;his attitude bespoke him quietly fixed upon something else andawaiting her leisure. Elizabeth brought her eyes home again. 

"What a strange young man!" was her quick thought; -- "to havebeen brought up a farmer's boy, and to know enough and to dareenough to put me on this seat, and then to have the wit to gooff and stand there in that manner!"

But this tribute of respect to Winthrop was instantly followedby an endeavour to do herself honour, in the way of gainingself-possession and her ordinary looks as speedily aspossible. She commanded herself well after once she got thereins in hand; yet however it was with a grave consciousnessof swollen eyes and flushed cheeks that she presently rosefrom her place and went forward to the side of the quietfigure that stood there with folded arms watching the rollingwaters of the bay. Elizabeth stood at his elbow a minute inhesitation. 

"I am ready now, Mr. Landholm. I am sorry I have kept you bymy ridiculousness. "

"I have not been kept beyond my pleasure, " he said. 

"I lost command of myself, " Elizabeth went on. "That happensto me once in a while. "

"You will feel better for it, " he said, as they turned andbegan to walk homewards. 

"He takes things coolly!" thought Elizabeth. 

"Do you men ever lose command of yourselves?"

"Sometimes -- I am afraid, " he said with a smile. 

"I suppose your greater power of nerve and of guardingappearances, is one secret of the triumphant sort of pride youwear upon occasion. There --I see it in your face now. "

"I hope not, " said Winthrop laughing. "The best instance ofself-control that I ever saw, was most unaccompanied with anyarrogance of merit or power. "

"He means his mother again, " thought Elizabeth. 

"Was that instance in a man or a woman, Mr. Landholm?"

"It was in a woman -- unfortunately for your ground. "

"Not at all, " said Elizabeth. "Exceptions prove nothing. "

Winthrop said nothing, for his thoughts were busy with thatimage of sweet self-guidance which he had never known to beunsteady or fail; and which, he knew, referred all itsstrength and all its stableness to the keeping of anotherhand. Most feminine, most humble, and most sure. 

"Mr. Winthrop, your mother puzzles me, " said Elizabeth. "Iwish I knew some of her secrets. "

"I wish I did, " he answered with half a sigh. 

"Why, don't you!"

"No. "

"I thought you did. "

"No; for she says they can only be arrived at through acertain initiation which I have not had -- after certainpreliminary steps, which I have not yet taken. "

Elizabeth looked at him, both surprised and curious. 

"What are they?"

Winthrop's face was graver than usual, as he said, "I wish my mother were here to answer you. "

"Why, cannot you?"

"No. "

"Don't you know the preliminary steps, Mr. Landholm?"

He looked very grave again. 

"Not clearly enough to tell you. In general, I know she wouldsay there is a narrow way to be passed through before thetreasures of truth, or its fair prospects, can be arrived at;but I have never gone that way myself and I cannot point outthe way-marks. "

"Are you referring to the narrow gate spoken of in the Bible?"

"To the same. "

"Then you are getting upon what _I_ do not understand, " saidElizabeth. 

They had mounted the steps of No. 11, and were waiting for thedoor to be opened. They waited silently till it was done, andthen parted with only a 'good night. ' Elizabeth did not askhim in, and it hardly occurred to Winthrop to wonder that shedid not. 

Mr. Landholm read no classics that night. Neither law. Neither, which may seem more strange, did he consult his Bookof books at all. He busied himself, not exactly with the studyof the human mind, but of two human minds, -- which, though atfirst sight it may seem an enlargement of the subject, is infact rather a contracted view of the same. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

_Sir Toby_. Do not our lives consist of the four elements?_Sir And. _ 'Faith, so they say, but, I think, it rather consistsof eating and drinking. TWELFTH NIGHT. 

"Dear, Mr. Winthrop, -- what makes all this smoke here?"exclaimed Mrs. Nettley one morning, as she opened the door ofhis attic. 

"I suppose, the wind, Mrs. Nettley, " said Winthrop looking upfrom the book he was studying. 

"O dear! -- how do you manage?"

"I can't manage the smoke, Mrs. Nettley -- Its resources exceedmine. "

"It's that chimney!" exclaimed the good lady, standing andeyeing it in a sort of desperate concern, as if she wouldwillingly have gone up the flue herself, so that only shecould thereby have secured the smoke's doing the same. "Ialways knew that chimney was bad -- I had it once a whilemyself -- I'm sorry you've got it now. What _do_ you do, Mr. Winthrop?"

"The smoke and I take turns in going out, Mrs. Nettley. "

"Eh? -- Does it often come in so? Can't you help it?"

"It generally takes advice with the wind, not with me, ma'am. "

"But the chimney might have better advice. I'll get George tofetch a doctor -- I had forgotten it was so bad, I had quiteforgotten it, and you never say a word -- Mr. Landholm, younever come to see us. "

"I have so much else to see, " he said, glancing at his book. 

"Yes, and that reminds me -- Have you heard the news?"

"I have heard none to-day. "

"Then you heard it yesterday, -- of course you did; but I hearso little, when anything comes to me that's new I always thinkit must be new to everybody else. But of course _you_ must knowit, as it is about friends of yours; I dare say you knew itlong ago; -- though such things are kept close sometimes, evenfrom friends; and I somehow was surprised to hear this, thoughI had no right to be, for I suppose I had no reason for myfancy. I think a good many things I have no reason for, Georgethinks. Maybe I do. I cant help it. "

"But what is the thing in this case, Mrs. Nettley?" saidWinthrop smiling. 

"Why George told me -- don't you know? I was a littledisappointed, Mr. Winthrop. "

"Why?"

"Why, I had a fancy things were going another way. "

"I don't know what you are talking about. "

"That's because I talk so ill -- It's this piece of news Georgebrought home yesterday -- he was dining out, for a wonder, withthis gentleman who is going to sit to him; I forget his name, -- Mr. -- I don't know what it is! -- but I am foolish to talkabout it. Won't you come down and take a cup of tea with usto-night, Mr. Landholm? that's what I came up to ask, and notto stand interrupting you. But you've quite forgotten uslately. "

"Thank you, Mrs. Nettley, I'll come with great pleasure -- oncondition that you tell me your news. "

"The news? O it's no news to you -- it's only this about MissHaye. "

"What about Miss Haye?"

"They say that she is going to get married, to a Mr. Cadwallader, George said. Her cousin I suppose; there is acousinship of that name, isn't there, Mr. Landholm?"

Mr. Landholm bowed. 

"And had you heard of it before?"

"No, I had not. "

"And is it a good match? She is a fine girl, isn't she?"

"I know really nothing of the matter, Mrs. Nettley -- I havenever seen the gentleman. "

"Really! Haven't you? -- then it _was_ news, " said the lady. "Ithought you were accustomed to see them so often -- I didn'tthink I was telling you anything. George and I -- you mustforgive us, Mr. Winthrop, people will have such thoughts; theywill come in, and you cannot help it -- I don't know what's tokeep 'em out, unless one could put bars and gates upon one'sminds, and you can't well do that; -- but George and I used tohave suspicions of you, Mr. Landholm. Well, I have interruptedyou long enough. Dear! what windows! I'm ashamed. I'll sendthe girl up, the first chance you are out of the house. I toldher to come up too; but she is heedless. I haven't been to see'em myself in I don't know how many days; but you're always soterribly busy -- and now I've staid twice too long!" --

And away she hurried, softly closing the door after her. 

Mr. Landholm's quiet study was remarkably quiet for a goodwhile after she went out. No leaf of his book rustled over;not a foot of his chair grated on the floor, -- for though thefloor did boast a bit of carpet, it lay not where he sat, bythe window; and the coals and firebrands fell noiselessly downinto the ashes and nobody was reminded that the fire wouldburn itself out in time if it was let alone. The morning lightgrew stronger, and the sunbeams that never got there tillbetween nine and ten o'clock, walked into the room; and theyfound Winthrop Landholm with his elbow on the table and hishead in his hand, where they often were; but with his eyeswhere they _not_ often were -- on the floor. The sunbeams saidvery softly that it was time to be at the office, but theysaid it very softly, and Winthrop did not hear them. 

He heard however presently a footstep on the stair, in thenext story at first, and then mounting the uppermost flightthat led to the attic. A heavy brisk energetic footstep, -- notMrs. Nettley's soft and slow tread, nor the more deliberateone of her brother. Winthrop listened a moment, and then asthe last impatient creak of the boot stopped at his thresholdhe knew who would open the door. It was Rufus. 

"_Here_ you are. Why I expected to find you at the office!" wasthe first cheery exclamation, after the brothers had claspedhands. 

"What did you come here to find, then?" said Winthrop. 

"Room for my carpet-bag, in the first place; and a pair ofslippers, and comfort. It's stinging weather, Governor!"

"I know it. I came down the river the night before last. "

"I shouldn't think you knew it, for you've let your fire godown confoundedly. Why Winthrop! there's hardly a spark here!What have you been thinking about?"

"I was kindling the fire, mentally, " said Winthrop. 

"Mentally! -- where's your kindling? -- I can tell you! -- if youhad been out in this air you'd want some breath of materialflame, before you could set any other agoing. And I am afraid_this_ isn't enough -- or won't be, -- I want some fuel foranother sort of internal combustion -- some of my Scotchman'shaggis. "

And Rufus stopped to laugh, with a very funny face, in themidst of his piling chips and brands together. 

"Haggis?" said Winthrop. 

"Yes. -- There was a good fellow of a Scotchman in the stagewith me last night -- he had the seat just behind me -- and heand a brother Scotchman were discoursing valiantly of oldworld things; warming themselves up with the recollection. --Winthrop, have you got a bit of paper here? -- And I heard theword 'haggis' over and over again, --'haggis' and 'parritch. 'At last I turned round gravely -- 'Pray sir, ' said I, 'what _is_a haggis?' 'Weel, sir, ' said he good-humouredly, -- 'I don'tjust know the ingredients -- it's made of meal, -- and onions, Ibelieve, --and other combustibles!!' -- Winthrop, have you gotany breakfast in the house?"

"Not much in the combustible line, I am afraid, " saidWinthrop, putting up his books and going to the closet. 

"Well if you can enact Mother Hubbard and 'give a poor dog abone, ' I shall be thankful, -- for anything. "

"I am afraid hunger has perverted your memory, " said Winthrop. 

"How?"

"If the cupboard should play its part now, the dog would gowithout any. "

"O you'll do better for me than that, I hope, " said Rufus;"for I couldn't go on enacting the dog's part long; he took tolaughing, if I remember, and I should be beyond thatdirectly. "

"Does that ever happen?" said Winthrop, as he brought out ofthe cupboard his bits of stores; a plate with the end of aloaf of bread, a little pitcher of milk, and another platewith some remains of cold beefsteak. For all reply, Rufusseized upon a piece of bread, to begin with, and thrusting afork into the beefsteak, he held it in front of the just-burning firebrands. Winthrop stood looking on, while Rufus, the beefsteak, and the smoke, seemed mutually intent upon eachother. It was a question of time, and patience; not to speakof fortitude. 

"Winthrop, " said Rufus changing hands with his fork, -- "haveyou any coffee?"

"No sir. "

"Tea?"

"No. "

"Out of both?"

"For some time. "

"Do you live without it?"

"I live without it. "

"Without either of them?"

"Without either of them. "

"Then how in the world _do_ you live?" said Rufus turning hisbeefsteak in a very gingerly manner and not daring to take hiseyes from it. 

"Without combustibles -- as I told you. "

"I should think so!" exclaimed his brother. "You are thecoolest, toughest, most stubborn and unimpressible piece ofsensibility, that ever lived in a garret and deserved to live-- somewhere else. "

"Doubtful strain of commendation, " said Winthrop. "What hasbrought you to Mannahatta?"

"But Winthrop, this is a new fancy of yours?"

"No, not very. "

"How long since?"

"Since what?"

"Since you gave up all the good things of this life?"

"A man can only give up what he has, " said Winthrop. "Those Idelivered into your hands some ten minutes ago. "

"But tea and coffee -- You used to drink them?"

"Yes. "

"Why don't you?"

"For a variety of reasons, satisfactory to my own mind. "

"And have you abjured butter too?"

"I am sorry, Will, " said Winthrop smiling a little, -- "I willtry to have some butter for you to-morrow. "

"Don't you eat it in ordinary?"

"Always, when I can get it. What has brought you toMannahatta?"

"What do you think?"

"Some rash scheme or resolution. "

"Why?"

"From my judgment of your character, which might be stated asthe converse of that just now so happily applied to me. "

"And do natures the opposite of that never act otherwise thanrashly?"

"I hope so; for as the coolest are sometimes excited, so thehot may be sometimes cool. "

"And don't I look cool?"

"You did when you came in, " said Winthrop. 

"I should think living on bread and milk might help that, inordinary, " said Rufus. "Just in my present condition it hasrather a different effect. Well Governor, I've come toMannahatta --"

"I see that, " said Winthrop. 

"I'll thank you not to interrupt me. I've come to Mannahatta --on a piece of business. "

Winthrop waited, and Rufus after another cut of the bread andmeat, went on. 

"Governor, I'm going to quit engineering and take to anothermode of making money. "

"Have you done with your last piece of work at the West?"

"No -- I'm going back there to finish it. O, I'm going backthere -- I've only come here now to sign some papers and makesome arrangements; I shall come finally, I suppose, about May, or April. I've been corresponding with Haye lately. "

"About what?"

"About this! What should I correspond with him about? By theway, what an infernal piece of folly this marriage is!"

"Not mixed up with your business, is it?"

"No, of course; how should it? but I am tremendouslysurprised. Aren't you?"

"People of my temperament never are, you know. "

"People of your temperament -- have a corner for theirthoughts, " said Rufus. "Well, there's one chance gone for you, Governor. "

"Which it does not appear that I ever had. "

"No indeed, that's very true. Well, about my business. -- Hayehas advocated my leaving the country and coming here. And heknows what he is about, Winthrop; he is a capital man ofbusiness. He says he can put me in a way of doing well formyself in a very short time here, and he recommended mycoming. "

"What's his object?" said Winthrop. 

"What's his object?"

"Yes. "

"How should I know! He wants to serve me, I suppose; and Ibelieve he has kindliness enough for me, to be not unwillingto get me in the same place of business with himself. "

"What will he do for you?"

"This, to begin with. He has a quantity of cotton lying in hisstores, which he offers to make over to me, upon a certainvaluation. And I shall ship it to Liverpool, as herecommends. "

"Have you got your money from the North Lyttleton company?"

"No, nor from anybody else; -- not yet; but it's coming. "

"Is this purchase of cotton to be executed immediately?"

"Immediately. That's what I have come down for. "

"How are you to pay Mr. Haye?"

"By bills upon the consignees. "

"Does the purchase swallow up all your means?"

"None of them, " said Rufus impatiently. "I tell you, it is tobe consummated by drawing bills in Haye's favour upon theconsignees -- Fleet, Norton & Co. "

"Suppose the consignment don't pay?"

"It _will_ pay, of course! Don't you suppose Haye knows what heis about?"

"Yes; but that don't satisfy me, unless I know it too. "

"_I_ do, " said Rufus. "He takes an interest in me for myfather's sake; and I think I may say without vanity, for myown; and he is willing to do me a kindness, which he can dowithout hurting himself. That is all; and very simple. "

"Too simple, " said Winthrop. 

"What do you mean?"

"What are you going to do when you come here?"

"Look after my in-comings; and I shall probably go into Haye'soffice and rub up my arithmetic in the earlier branches. Whatare _you_ going to do?"

"I am going to the office, -- Mr. De Wort's. "

"What to do there, Governor?"

"Read, write, and record, law and lawpapers. "

"Always at the same thing!"

"Always. "

"Seems a slow way of getting ahead. "

"It's sure, " said Winthrop. 

"_You_ are sure, I believe, of whatever you undertake. By theway -- have you undertaken the other adventure yet?"

"I don't know what you mean. "

"The adventure we were talking about. -- The heiress. "

"I can adventure nothing upon speculation, " said Winthrop. 

"Then you have not had a chance to carry out your favouriteidea of obligation. Do you know, I never should have suspectedyou of having such an idea. "

"Shews how much we go upon speculation even with our nearestfriends, " said Winthrop. 

"And how speculation fails there as elsewhere. What a foolHaye has made of himself!"

"In what?"

"Why, in this match. "

"What has he done?"

"Done! why he has done _it_. Enough, I should think. I wish hisfolly stood alone. "

"How do you know he has done it?"

"He told me so himself. I met him as I came along just now;and he told me he was to be married to-morrow and would attendto my business next day. "

"Told you _who_ would?"

"He. Himself. Haye. "

"Told you he was to be married?"

"Yes. Who else?"

"To whom?"

"Why! -- to his niece -- ward -- what is she? Rose Cadwallader. "

"_Mr. _ Haye and Miss Cadwallader!" said Winthrop. 

"To be sure. What are you thinking of? What have we beentalking about?"

"You know best, " said Winthrop. "My informant had broughtanother person upon the stage. "

"Who?"

"A Mr. Cadwallader. "

"There's no such thing as a Mr. Cadwallader. It's Hayehimself; and it only shews how all a man's wisdom may belocated in one quarter of his brain and leave the otherempty. "

"To-morrow?" said Winthrop. 

"Yes; and you and I are invited to pay our respects at eleven. Haven't you had an invitation?"

"I don't know -- I have been out of town -- and for the presentI must pay my respects in another direction. I must leave you, Will. "

"Look here. What's the matter with you, Winthrop?"

"Nothing at all, " said Winthrop facing round upon his brother. 

"Well I believe there isn't, " said Rufus, taking a prolongedlook at him, -- "but somehow I was thinking -- You're a fine-looking fellow, Winthrop!"

"You'll find wood in the further end of the closet, " saidWinthrop smiling. "I am afraid Mother Hubbard's shelves arein classical order --that is, with nothing on them. "

"I sha'n't want anything more till dinner, " said Rufus. "Wheredo you dine?"

"At the chop-house to-day. "

"I'll meet you there. Won't you be home till night?"

"I never am. "

"Well --till dinner, " said Rufus waving his hand. And hisbrother left him. 

Turning away from the table and his emptied dishes andfragmentary beef-bone, Rufus sat before the little fireplace, gazing into it at the red coals, and taking casual and thenwistful note of various things about his brother's apartmentthat told of the man that lived there. 

"Spare!" -- said Rufus to himself, as his eye marked the scantycarpet, the unpainted few wooden chairs, the curtainless bed, the rough deal shelves of the closet which shewed at the opendoor, and the very economical chimney place, which now, thewind having gone down, did no longer smoke; -- "Spare! -- buthe'll have a better place to live in, one of these days, andwill furnish it. " -- And visions of mahogany and of mirrorsglanced across Rufus's imagination, how unlike the imagesaround him and before his bodily eye. -- "Spare! -- poor fellow!-- he's working hard just now; but pay-time will come. Andorderly, --just like him; his books piled in order on thewindow-sill -- his papers held down by one on the table, theclean floor, -- yes, " -- and rising Rufus even went and lookedinto the closet. There was the little stack of wood and parcelof kindling, likewise in order; there stood Winthrop's broomin a corner; and there hung Winthrop's few clothes that werenot folded away in his trunk. Mother Hubbard's department wasin the same spare and thoroughly kept style; and Rufus cameback thoughtfully to his seat before the fire. 

"Like him, every bit of it, from the books to the broom. Likehim; -- his own mind is just as free from dust or confusion;rather more richly furnished. What a mind it is! and whatwealth he'll make out of it, for pocket and for name both. AndI --"

Here Rufus's lucubrations left his brother and went off upon asea of calculations, landing at Fleet, Norton & Co. And thencoming back to Mannahatta and Mr. Haye's counting-room. He hadplenty of time for them, as no business obviously could bedone till the day after to-morrow. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

_Touch_. All your writers do consent that ipso is he; now youare not ipse, for I am he. _Well_. Which he, sir?AS YOU LIKE IT. 

In due course of time the morrow brought round eleven o'clock;and the two brothers took their way, whither all the worldseverally were taking theirs, to Mr. Haye's house. The weddingwas over and the guests were pouring in. 

For some reason or other the walk was taken in grave silence, by both parties, till they were mounting the steps to the halldoor. 

"How do you suppose Elizabeth will like this?" Rufuswhispered. 

Winthrop did not say, nor indeed answer at all; and hisbrother's attention was caught the next minute by Mr. Herderwhom they encountered in the hall. 

"How do you do?" said the naturalist grasping both his youngfriends' hands, -- "when did you come? and how is all wiz you?I hope you are not going to be married!"

"Why, Mr. Herder?" said Rufus laughing. 

"It is very perplexing, and does not satisfy nobody, " said thenaturalist. "So quick as a man thinks of somebody else aleetle too hard, he forgets himself altogezer; and then, hedoes not be sure what he is doing. Now -- dis man --"

"Isn't he sure what he has done?" said Rufus much amused. 

"No, he does not know, " said Mr. Herder. 

"What does his daughter think of it?"

"She looks black at it. I do not know what she is thinking. Ido not want to know. "

"Ha! What does she say?"

"She says nozing at all; she looks black, " said the naturalistshrugging his shoulders. "Don't you go to get married. Youwill not satisfy nobody. "

"Except myself, " said Rufus. 

"Maybe. I do not know, " said the naturalist. "A man has not noright to satisfy himself wizout he can satisfy ozer peopletoo. I am sorry for poor Miss Elisabet'. "

"I wonder how many matches would be made upon that rule!" saidRufus, as they parted and Mr. Herder joined the companywithin. 

"They would be all matches made by other people, " saidWinthrop. 

"And on the principle that 'to-morrow never comes' -- the worldwould come to an end. "

So they entered the drawing-rooms. 

There were many people there, and certainly for the presentthere were few unsatisfied faces; for the bride was lovelyenough and the bridegroom of consequence enough, to makecompliments to them a matter of pleasure to the giver. Theroom was blooming with beauty and brightness. But Miss Hayewas not there; and as soon as they could withdraw from theprincipal group the two brothers made their way to an innerroom, where she stood, holding as it were a court of her own;and an unpropitious monarch she would have looked to hercourtiers had they been real ones. Her face was as lowering asMr. Herder had described it; settled in pain and pride; thoughnow and then a quick change would pass over it, very like theplay of lightning on a distant cloud; -- fitful, sharp, andtraceless. Just as Rufus and Winthrop had made their bow, andbefore they had time to speak, another bow claimed Elizabeth'sreturn, and the tongue that went therewith was beforehand withtheirs. The speaker was a well dressed and easy mannered manof the world; but with a very javelin of an eye, as ready fora throw as a knight's lance of old, and as careless what itmet in its passage through humanity. 

"You have wandered out of your sphere, Miss Elizabeth. "

"What do you mean, sir?" -- was given with sufficient keenness. 

"The bright constellation of beauty and happiness is in theother room. Stars set off one another. "

"I shine best alone, " said Elizabeth. 

"You disdain the effect of commingled and reflected light?"

"Yes I do, heartily, in this case. I wish for no glory thatdoes not belong to me. "

"But does not the glory of your father and mother belong toyou?" said the gentleman. He spoke with the most smoothdeference of manner, that all but covered his intent; but theflush and fire started into Elizabeth's face reminding one ofthe volcano again. Her eye watered with pain too, and shehesitated; she was evidently not ready with an answer. Perhapsfor that reason it was given with added haughtiness. 

"You need not trouble yourself to reckon what does or whatdoes not belong to me. I know my belongings, and will takecare of them. "

"You are satisfied with them, " said the gentleman, "andwilling they should stand alone?"

"I am willing they should take their chance, sir. "

"I know no one who can better say that, " remarked Rufus. 

"With better confidence, or better grounds do you mean?"

"I hope you do not need to be told!" said Rufus, his eyesparkling half with fun and half with admiration at the faceand manner with which Elizabeth turned upon him. 

"Which leaves the lady at liberty to suppose what shepleases, " said the first speaker. 

"It leaves her at liberty to suppose nothing of the kind!"Rufus rejoined, with a little dilating of the nostril. 

"Nothing can constrain my liberty in that respect, " said thelady in question. 

"Except your knowledge of human nature?" said Rufus. 

"I have no hindrance in that, " said Elizabeth. 

"To supposing what you please?"

"Or what pleases you, perhaps, " said the first speaker. 

"Anything but that, Mr. Archibald!"

"Then it was no surprise to you that your father should set ayoung and lovely Mrs. Haye at the head of his establishment, even though he found her in the person of your playmate?"

Elizabeth hesitated; she drew in her under lip, and her eyedarkened and lightened; but she hesitated. Then she spoke, looking down. 

"I was surprised. "

"Not a pleasant surprise?" said Mr. Archibald. 

The girl's face literally flashed at him; from her two eyesthe fire flew, as if the one would confound the other. 

"How dare you ask me the question, sir!"

"Pardon me -- I had no idea there was any harm in it, " said theperson at whom the fire flew. 

"Your ideas want correcting, sir, sadly! -- and your tongue. "

"I will never offend again!" said Mr. Archibald bowing, andsmiling a little. 

"You never shall, with my good leave. "

Mr. Archibald bowed again. 

"Good morning! You will forgive me; and when I think timeenough has elapsed, and I may with safety, I will come again. "

"To visit my father, sir! --"

Not Queen Elizabeth, with ruff and farthingale, could havesaid it with more consciousness of her own dignity, or moresuperb dismission of that of another. But probably QueenElizabeth would not have cast upon her courtiers the look, half asking for sympathy and half for approval, with whichElizabeth Haye turned to her companions. Her eye fell firstupon Winthrop. But his did not meet her, and the expression ofhis face was very grave. Elizabeth's look went from it toRufus. His was beaming. 

"Capital!" he said. "That was admirable!"

"No, " said Elizabeth after a slight hesitation, -- "it wasnot. "

"I thought it was, " said Rufus, -- "admirably done. Why was itnot, Miss Haye? -- if I am not as impertinent as another? -- Ithought he richly deserved his punishment. "

"Yes, " said Elizabeth in a dissatisfied kind of way, -- "enoughof that, -- but I deserved better of myself than to give it tohim. "

"You are too hard upon yourself. "

"Circumstances are sometimes. "

"Will it do to say that?" said Winthrop looking up. 

"Why not?"

"Will it do to confess oneself -- one's freedom of mind --underthe power of _circumstance_, and so not one's own?"

"I must confess it, " said Elizabeth, "for it's true, of _me_. Isuppose, not of every one. "

"Then you cannot depend upon yourself. "

"Well, -- I can't. "

He smiled. 

"On whom then?"

"On no one! --"

And the blood sprung to her cheeks and the water to her eyes, with a sudden rush. It seemed that circumstance was not theonly thing too hard for her; feeling had so far the mastery, for the minute, that her head bent down and she could not atonce raise it up. Rufus walked off to the window, where hegave his attention to some greenhouse plants; Winthrop stoodstill. 

"I would give anything in the world, " said Elizabeth, liftingher head and at first humbly and then proudly wiping her tearsaway, -- "if I could learn self-control -- to command myself. Can one do it, Mr. Landholm? -- one with whom it is not born?"

"I believe so. "

"After all, you can't tell much about it, " said Elizabeth, "for it belongs to your nature. "

"No credit to him, " said Rufus returning; -- "it comes of thestock. An inch of self-control in one not accustomed to it, isworth more honour than all Governor's, which he can't help. "

"I wouldn't give a pin for self-control in one not accustomedto it!" said Elizabeth; "it is the _habitual_ command overoneself, that I value. "

"No let-up to it?" said Rufus. 

"No; -- or only so much as to shew in what strength it exists. I am glad, for instance, that Washington for once forgothimself -- or no, he didn't _forget_ himself; but I am glad thatpassion got the better of him once. I respect the rest of hislife infinitely more. "

"Than that instance?"

"No, no! -- _for_ that instance. "

"I am afraid you have a little tendency to hero-worship, MissElizabeth. "

"A very safe tendency, " said the young lady. "There aren'tmany heroes to call it out. "

"Living heroes?"

"No, nor dead ones, -- if one could get at more than the greatfacts of their lives, which don't shew us the men. "

"Then you are of opinion that 'trifles make the sum of humanthings?'"

"I don't know what are trifles, " said Elizabeth. 

"Dere is nozing is no trifle, " said Mr. Herder, coming in fromthe other room. "Dere is no such thing as trifle. MissElisabet' hang her head a little one side and go softly, -- andpeople say, 'Miss Elisabet' is sad in her spirit -- what is thematter?' -- and you hold up your head straight and look brightout of your eyes, and they say, 'Miss Elisabet' is fière -- shefeels herself goot; she do not fear nozing, she do not carefor nozing. '"

"I am sure it is a trifle whether I look one way or another, Mr. Herder, " said Elizabeth, laughing a little. 

"Ozer people do not think so, " said the naturalist. 

"Besides, it is not true, that I fear nothing and care fornothing. "

"But then you do not want to tell everybody what you dothink, " said the naturalist. 

"I don't care much about it!" said Elizabeth. "I think that isa trifle, Mr. Herder. "

"Which is?" -- said the naturalist. 

"What people think about me. "

"You do not think so?"

"I do. "

"I am sorry, " said the naturalist. 

"Why?"

"It is not goot, for people to not care what ozer peoplethinks about them. "

"Why isn't it good? I think it is. I am sure it iscomfortable. "

"It shews they have a mind to do something what ozer peoplewill not like. "

"Very well! --"

"Dat is not goot. "

"Maybe it is good, Mr. Herder. People are not always right intheir expectations. "

"It is better to go smooth wiz people, " said the naturalistshaking his head a little. 

"Or without them, " said Elizabeth. 

"Question, can you do that?" said Rufus. 

"What?" said his brother. 

"Live smoothly, or live at all, without regard to otherpeople. "

"It is of the world at large I was speaking, " said Elizabeth. "Of course there are some few, a very few, whose word -- andwhose thought -- one would care for and strive for, -- that isnot what I mean. "

"And who are those few fine persons?" said Mr. Herdersignificantly. 

"He is unhappy that doesn't know one or two, " Elizabethanswered with infinite gravity. 

"And the opinions of the rest of men you would despise?" saidRufus. 

"Utterly! -- so far as they trenched upon my freedom ofaction. "

"You can't live so, " said Rufus shaking his head. 

"I _will_ live so, if I live at all. "

"Wint'rop, you do not say nozing, " said the naturalist. 

"What need, sir?"

"Dere is always need for everybody to say what he thinks, "said Mr. Herder. "Here we have all got ourselves in a puzzle, and we don't know which way we stand. "

"I am afraid every man must get out of that puzzle forhimself, sir. "

"Is it a puzzle at all?" said Elizabeth facing round upon him. 

"Not when you have got out of it. "

"Well, what's the right road out of it?"

"Break through everything in the way, " said Rufus. "That seemsto be the method in favour. "

"What do you think is the _right_ way?" Elizabeth repeatedwithout looking at the last speaker. 

"If you set your face in the right quarter, there is always astraight road out in that direction, " Winthrop answered with alittle bit of a smile. 

"Doesn't that come pretty near my rule?" said Elizabeth with asmile much broader. 

"I think not. If I understood, your rule was to make astraight road out for yourself in any direction. "

Elizabeth laughed and coloured a little, with no displeasedexpression. The laugh subsided and her face became very graveagain as the gentlemen made their parting bows. 

The brothers walked home in silence, till they had nearreached their own door. 

"How easily you make a straight way for yourself anywhere!"Rufus said suddenly and with half a breath of a sigh. 

"What do you mean?" said Winthrop starting. 

"You always did. "

"What?"

"What you pleased. "

"Well?" said Winthrop smiling. 

"You may do it now. And will to the end of your life. "

"Which seems to afford you somehow a gloomy prospect ofcontemplation, " said his brother. 

"Well -- it does -- and it should. "

"I should like to hear you state your premises and draw yourconclusion. "

Rufus was silent and very sober for a little while. At last hesaid, "Your success and mine have always been very different, ineverything we undertook. "

"Not in everything, " said Winthrop. 

"Well -- in almost everything. "

"You say I do whatever I please. The difficulty with yousometimes, Will, is that you do not 'please' hard enough. "

"It would be difficult for anybody to rival you in that, "Rufus said with a mingling of expression, half ironical andhalf bitter. "You please so 'hard' that nobody else has achance. "

To which Winthrop made no answer. 

"I am not sorry for it, Governor, " Rufus said just as theyreached their door, and with a very changed and quiet tone. 

To which also Winthrop made no answer except by a look. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

I watch thee from the quiet shore;Thy spirit up to mine can reach;But in dear words of human speechWe two communicate no more. TENNYSON. 

Mrs. Nettley was putting the finishing touches to herbreakfast -- that is, to her breakfast in prospect. A dish offish and the coffee-pot stood keeping each other cheerful onone side the hearth; and Mrs. Nettley was just, with sometrouble, hanging a large round griddle over the blazing fire. Her brother stood by, with his hands on his sides, and arather complacent face. 

"What's that flap-jack going on for?"

"For something I like, if you don't, " said his sister. "George--"

Mrs Nettley stopped while her iron ladle was carefullybestowing large spoonfuls of batter all round the griddle. 

"What?" said Mr. Inchbald, when it was done. 

"Somebody up-stairs likes 'em. Don't you suppose you could getMr. Landholm to come down. He likes 'em, and he don't get 'emnow-a-days -- nor too much of anything that's good. I don'tknow what he _does_ live on, up there. "

"Anything is better than those things, " said her brother. 

"Other people are more wise than you. Do go up and ask him, will you, George? I hope he gets good dinners somewhere, forit's very little of anything he cooks at that smoky littlefireplace of his. Do you ever see him bring anything in?"

"Nothing. I don't see him bring himself in, you know. Buthe'll do. He'll have enough by and by, Dame Nettley. I knowwhat stuff he's of. "

"Yes, but no stuff'll last without help, " said Mrs. Nettley, taking her cakes off the griddle and piling them up carefully. "Now I'm all ready, George, and you're standing there -- it'salways the way -- and before you can mount those three pair ofstairs and down again, these'll be cold. Do go, George; Mr. Landholm likes his cakes hot -- I'll have another platefulready before you'll be here; and then they're good for nothingbut to throw away. "

"That's what I think, " said Mr. Inchbald; "but I'll bring himdown if I can, to do what you like with 'em -- only I must seefirst what this knocking wants at the front door. "

"And left this one open too!" -- said Mrs. Nettley, -- "and nowthe whole house'll be full of smoke and everything -- Well! -- Imight as well not ha' put this griddleful on. " --

But the door having refused to latch, gave Mrs. Nettley achance to hear what was going on. She stood, slice in hand, listening. Some unaccustomed tones came to her ear -- then Mr. Inchbald's round hearty voice, saying, "Yes sir -- he is here -- he is at home. "

"I'd like to see him --"

And then the sounds of scraping feet entering the house. 

"I'd like to go somewheres that I could see a fire, too, " saidthe strange voice. "Ben ridin' all night, and got to set offagain, you see, directly. "

And Mrs. Nettley turned her cakes in a great hurry, as herbrother pushed open the door and let the intruder in. 

He took off his hat as he came, shewing a head that had seensome sixty winters, thinly dressed with yellow hair but not atall grey. The face was strong and Yankee-marked withshrewdness and reserve. His hat was wet and his shoulders, which had no protection of an overcoat. 

"Do you wish to see Mr. Landholm in his room?" said Mr. Inchbald. "He's just coming down to breakfast. "

"That'll do as well, " said the stranger nodding. "And stop --you may give him this -- maybe he'd as lieve have it up there. "

Mr. Inchbald looked at the letter handed him, the outside ofwhich at least told no tales; but his sister with a woman'squick instinct had already asked, "Is anything the matter?"

"Matter?" -- said the stranger, -- "well, yes. -- He's wanted tohum. "

Both brother and sister stood now forgetting everything, bothsaying in a breath, "Wanted, what for?"

"Well -- there's sickness --"

"His father?"

"No, his mother. "

Mrs. Nettley threw down her slice and ran out of the room. Mr. Inchbald turned away slowly in the other direction. Thestranger, left alone, took a knife from the table and dishedthe neglected cakes, and sat down to dry himself between themand the coffee. 

Mr. Inchbald slowly mounted the stairs to Winthrop's door, metthe pleasant face that met him there, and gave the letter. 

"I was coming to ask you down to breakfast with us, Mr. Landholm; but somebody has just come with that for you, andwishes you to have it at once. "

The pleasant face grew grave, and the seal was broken, and theletter unfolded. It was a folio half sheet, of coarseyellowish paper, near the upper end of which a very few lineswere irregularly written. 

"My dear son

"It is with great pain I write to tell you that you must leaveall and hasten home if you would see your mother. FriendUnderhill will take this to you, and your shortest way willbe, probably, to hire a horse in M. And travel night and day;as the time of the boat is uncertain and the stage does notmake very good time -- Her illness has been so short that wedid not know it was necessary to alarm you before. My dearson, come without delay --

"Your father, "W. Landholm. "

Mr. Inchbald watched the face and manner of his friend as heread, and after he read, these few words, -- but the oneexpressed only gravity, the other, action. Mr. Inchbald felthe could do nothing, and slowly went down stairs again to Mr. Underhill. He found him still over the fire between the cakesand the coffee. But Mr. Inchbald totally forgot to behospitable, and not a word was said till Winthrop came in andhe and the letter-bringer had wrung each other's hand, with abrief 'how d' ye do. '

"How did you leave them, Mr. Underhill?"

"Well -- they were wantin' you pretty bad --"

"Did _she_ send for me?"

"Well -- no -- I guess not, " said the other with something ofhesitancy, or of consideration, in his speech. Winthrop stoodsilent a moment. 

"I shall take horse immediately. You will go -- how?"

"May as well ride along with you, " said Mr. Underhill, settling his coat. "I'm wet -- a trifle -- but may as well rideit off as any way. Start now?"

"Have you breakfasted?"

"Well -- no, I hain't had time, you see -- I come straight toyou. "

"Mr. Inchbald, I must go to the office a few minutes -- willyou give my friend a mouthful?"

"But yourself, Mr. Landholm?"

"I have had breakfast. "

Mr. Inchbald did his duty as host then; but though his guestused despatch, the 'mouthful' was hardly a hungry man'sbreakfast when Winthrop was back again. In a few minutes morethe two were mounted and on their way up the right bank of theriver. 

They rode silently. At least if Mr. Underhill's wontedtalkativeness found vent at all, it was more than Winthrop wasable ever to recollect. He could remember nothing of the ridebut his own thoughts; and it seemed to him afterwards thatthey must have been stunning as well as deafening; so vagueand so blended was the impression of them mixed up with theimpression of everything else. It was what Mr. Underhillcalled 'falling weather'; the rain dropped lightly, or byturns changing to mist hung over the river and wreathed itselfabout the hills, and often stood across his path; as if to bidthe eye turn inward, for space to range without it might nothave. And passing all the other journeys he had made up anddown that road, some of them on horseback as he was now, Winthrop's thoughts went back to that first one, when throughill weather and discouragement he had left the home he was nowseeking, to enter upon his great-world career. Why did theyso? He had been that road in the rain since; he had been therein all weathers; he had been there often with as desponding aheart as brought him down that first time; which indeed didnot despond at all then, though it felt the weight of life'sundertakings and drawbacks. And the warm rain, and yellow, sun-coloured mist of this April day, had no likeness to thecold, pitiless, pelting December storm. Yet passing all thetimes between, his mind went back constantly to that firstone. He felt over again, though as in a dream, its steps ofloneliness and heart-sinking -- its misty looking forward -- andmost especially that Bible word '_Now_' -- which his littlesister's finger had pointed out to him. He remembered howconstantly that day it came back to him in everything helooked at, -- from the hills, from the river, from the beat ofthe horses' hoofs, from the falling rain. 'Now' -- 'now' -- heremembered how he had felt it that day; he had almostforgotten it since; but now it came up again to his mind as ifthat day had been but yesterday. What brought it there? Was itthe unrecognized, unallowed sense, that the one of all theworld who most longed to have him obey that word, might be to-day beyond seeing him obey it -- for ever? Was it possibly, that passing over the bridge of Mirza's vision he suddenly sawhimself by the side of one of the open trap-doors, and feltthat some stay, some security he needed, before his own footshould open one for itself? He did not ask; he did not try toorder the confused sweep of feeling which for the time passedover him; one dread idea for the time held mastery of allothers, and kept that day's ride all on the edge of that opentrap-door. Whose foot had gone down there? -- And under thatthought, -- woven in with the various tapestry of shower andsunshine, meadow and hillside, that clothed his day's journeyto the sense, -- were the images of that day in December -- thatfinal leaving of home and his mother, that rainy cold ride onthe stage-coach, Winnie's open Bible, and the 'Now, ' to whichher finger, his mother's prayers, and his own conscience, hadpointed all the day long. 

It made no difference, that as they went on, this April daychanged from rain and mist to the most brilliant sunshine. Themists rolled away, down the river and along the gulleys of themountains; the clouds scattered from off the blue sky, whichlooked down clear, fair, and soft, as if Mirza's bridge werenever under it. The little puddles of water sparkled in thesunshine and reflected the blue; the roads made haste to dry;the softest of spring airs wafted down from the hill-sides aspicy remembrance of budding shoots and the drawn-outsweetness of pine and fir and hemlock and cedar. The day grewsultrily warm. But though sunlight and spring winds carriedtheir tokens to memory's gates and left them there, they weretaken no note of at the time, by one traveller, and the otherhad no mental apparatus fine enough to gather them up. 

He had feeling or delicacy enough of another kind, however, tokeep him quiet. He sometimes looked at Winthrop; never spoketo him. Almost never; if he spoke at all, it was in some asideor counsel-taking with himself about the weather, the way, orthe prospect and management of the farming along the river. They stopped only to bait or to rest their horses; even atthose times Mr. Underhill restrained himself not only fromtalking to Winthrop but from talking before him; and exceptwhen his companion was at a distance, kept as quiet as he. Winthrop asked no questions. 

The road grew hilly, and in some places rough, trying to thehorses; and by the time they were fairly among the mountainland that stood down far south from Wut-a-qut-o, the sun wasnearing the fair broken horizon line of the western shore. Themiles were long now, when they were no longer many; the roadwas more and more steep and difficult; the horses weary. Thesun travelled faster than they did. A gentler sunlight neverlay in spring-time upon those hills and river; it made thebitter turmoil and dread of the way seem the more harsh andungentle. Their last stopping-place was at Cowslip's Mill -- onthe spot where seven years before, Winthrop had met the stage-coach and its consignment of ladies. 

"The horses must have a minute here -- and a bite, " said Mr. Underhill letting himself slowly down from his beast; -- "loseno time by it. "

For a change of posture Winthrop threw himself off, and stoodleaning on the saddle, while his travelling companion and Mr. Cowslip came up the rise bringing water and food to thehorses. No more than a grave nod was exchanged betweenWinthrop and his old neighbour; neither said one word; and assoon as the buckets were empty the travellers were on theirway again. 

It was but a little way now. The sun had gone behind themountain, the wind had died, the perfect stillness andloveliness of evening light was over hill and river and thehome land, as the riders came out from the woods upon the footof the bay and saw it all before them. A cloudless sky, -- thewhite clear western light where the sun had been, -- the brightsleeping water, -- the sweet lights and shades on Wut-a-qut-oand its neighbour hills, the lower and darker promontorythrowing itself across the landscape; and from one spot, thathalf-seen centre of the picture, the little brown speck onShah-wee-tah, -- a thin, thin wreath of smoke slowly went up. Winthrop for one moment looked, and then rode on sharply andMr. Underhill was fain to bear him company. They had roundedthe bay -- they had ridden over the promontory neck -- they werewithin a little of home, -- when Winthrop suddenly drew bridle. Mr. Underhill stopped. Winthrop turned towards him, and askedthe question not asked till then. 

"How is it at home, Mr. Underhill?"

And Mr. Underhill without looking at him, answered in the sametones, a moment of pause between, "She's gone. "

Winthrop's horse carried him slowly forward; Mr. Underhill'swas seen no more that night -- unless by Mr. Cowslip and hisson. 

Slowly Winthrop's horse carried him forward -- but little timethen was needed to bring him round to the back of the house, at the kitchen door, whither the horse-path led. It wastwilight now; the air was full of the perfume of cedars andpines, -- the clear white light shone in the west yet. Winthropdid not see it. He only saw that there was no light in thewindows. And that curl of thin smoke was the only thing he hadseen stirring about the house. He got off his horse and wentinto the kitchen. 

There was light enough to see who met him there. It was hisfather. There was hardly light to see faces; but Mr. Landholmlaid both hands on his son's shoulders, saying, "My dear boy! -- it's all over! --"

And Winthrop laid his face on his father's breast, and for afew breaths, sobbed, as he had not done since -- since hischildish eyes had found hiding-place on that other breast thatcould rest them no more. 

It was but a few minutes; -- and manly sorrow had given way andtaken again its quiet self-control; once and for ever. Thefather and son wrung each other's hands, the mute speech ofhand to hand telling of mutual suffering and endurance, andaffection, -- all that could be told; and then after the pauseof a minute; Winthrop moved on towards the family room, askingsoftly, "Is she here?" -- But his father led him through, tothe seldom-used east-room. 

Asahel was there; but he neither spoke nor stirred. And oldKaren was there, moving about on some trifling errand of duty;but her quick nature was under less government; it did notbear the sight of Winthrop. Dropping or forgetting what shewas about, she came towards him with a bursting cry offeeling, half for herself, half sympathetic; and with thefreedom of old acquaintance and affection and common grief, laid her shrivelled black hand on his shoulder and looked upinto his face, saying, almost as his father had done, but withstreaming eyes and quivering lips, "My dear son! -- she has gone! --"

Winthrop took the hand in his and gave it a moment's pressure, and then saying very gently but in a way that was obeyed, "Bequiet Karen, " -- he passed her and stood at his mother'sbedside. 

She was there -- lying quietly in her last sleep. Herself andnot another. All of her that _could_ write and leave itscharacter on features of clay, was shewn there still -- in itsbeauty. The brow yet spoke the calm good sense which hadalways reigned beneath it; the lines of toil were on thecheek; the mouth had its old mingling of patience and hope andfirm dignity -- the dignity of meek assurance which looked bothto the present and the future. It was there now, unchanged, unlessened; Winthrop read it; that as she had lived, so shehad died, in sure expectation of 'the rest that remaineth. 'Herself and no other! -- ay! that came home too in anothersense, with its hard stern reality, pressing home upon theheart and brain, till it would have seemed that nature couldnot bear it and must give way. But it did not. Winthrop stoodand looked, fixedly and long, so fixedly that no one cared tointerrupt him, but so calmly in his deep gravity that thestanders-by were rather awed than distressed. And at last whenhe turned away and Asahel threw himself forward upon his neck, Winthrop's manner was as firm as it was kind; though he leftthem all then and forbade Asahel to follow him. 

"The Lord bless him!" said Karen, loosing her tongue then andgiving her tears leave at the same time. "And surely the Lordhas blessed him, or he wouldn't ha' borne up so. She won'tlose that one of her childr'n -- she won't, no she won't! -- Iknow she won't! --"

"Where is Winnie, Karen?" said Asahel suddenly. 

"Poor soul! -- I dun know, " said Karen; -- "she was afeard tosee the Governor come home, and dursn't stop nowheres -- I dunknow where she's hid. -- The Lord bless him! nobody needn't ha'feared him. He's her own boy -- aint he her own boy! --"

Asahel went out to seek for his little sister, but his searchwas in vain. She was not to be seen nor heard of. Neither didWinthrop come to the sorrowful gathering which the remnant ofthe family made round the supper-table. _In_ the house he wasnot; and wherever he was out of the house, he was beyondreach. 

"Could they have gone away together?" said Asahel. 

"No!" said his father. 

"They didn't, " said Clam. "I see him go off by himself. "

"Which way?"

"Off among the trees, " said Clam. 

"Which way?" said Mr. Landholm. 

"His back was to the house, and he was goin' off towards theriver some place -- I guess he didn't want no one to follerhim. "

"There aint no wet nor cold to hurt him, " said Karen. 

There was not; but they missed him. 

And the house had been quiet, very quiet, for long aftersupper-time, when softly and cautiously one of the missingones opened the door of the east-room and half came in. OnlyKaren sat there at the foot of the bed. Winnie came in andcame up to her. 

"He's not here, darlin', " said the old woman, -- "and ye needn'tha' started from him. -- O cold face, and white face! -- whatha' you done with yourself, Winnie, to run away from him so?Ye needn't ha' feared him. Poor lamb! -- poor white lamb! --"

The girl sat down on the floor and laid her face on Karen'slap, where the still tears ran very fast. 

"Poor white lamb!" said the old woman, tenderly laying herwrinkled hand on Winnie's fair hair, -- "Ye haven't eat a crumb-- Karen'll fetch you a bit? -- ye'll faint by the way --"

Winnie shook her head. "No -- no. "

"What did you run away for?" Karen went on. "Ye run away fromyour best comfort -- but the Lord's help, Winnie; -- he's thestrongest of us all. "

But something in that speech, Karen could not divine what, made Winnie sob convulsively; and she thought best to give upher attempts at counsel or comforting. 

The wearied and weakened child must have needed both, for shewept unceasingly on Karen's knees till late in the night; andthen in sheer weariness the heavy eyelids closed upon thetears that were yet ready to come. She slumbered, with herhead still on Karen's lap. 

"Poor lamb!" said Karen when she found it out, bending over tolook at her, -- "poor lamb! -- she'll die of this if theGovernor can't help her, -- and she the Lord's child too. --Maybe best, poor child! -- maybe best! -- 'Little travellerZion-ward' -- I wish we were all up at those gates, O Lord! --"

The last words were spoken with a heavy sigh, and then the oldwoman changed her tone. 

"Winnie! -- Winnie! -- go to bed -- go to bed! Your mother'd sayit if she was here. "

Winnie raised her head and opened her eyes, and Karenrepeating her admonition in the same key, the child got up andwent mechanically out of the room, as if to obey it. 

It was by this time very late in the night; the rest of theinmates of the house had long been asleep. No lights wereburning except in the room she had left. But opening the doorof the kitchen, through which her way lay to her own room, Winnie found there was a glimmer from the fire, which usuallywas covered up close; and coming further into the room, shesaw some one stretched at full length upon the floor at thefireside. Another step, and Winnie knew it was Winthrop. Hewas asleep, his head resting on a rolled-up cloak against thejamb. Winnie's tears sprang forth again, but she would notwaken him. She kneeled down by his side, to look at him, aswell as the faint fireglow would let her, and to weep overhim; but her strength was worn out. It refused even weeping;and after a few minutes, nestling down as close to him as shecould get, she laid one arm and her head upon his breast andwent to sleep too. More peacefully and quietly than she hadslept for several nights. 

The glimmer from the fire-light died quite away, and only thebright stars kept watch over them. The moon was not where shecould look in at those north or east kitchen windows. But bydegrees the fair April night changed. Clouds gatheredthemselves up from all quarters of the horizon, till theycovered the sky; the faces of the stars were hid; thunderbegan to roll along among the hills, and bright incessantflashes of white lightning kept the room in a glare. Theviolence of the storm did not come over Shah-wee-tah, but itwas more than enough to rouse Winthrop, whose sleep was not sodeep as his little sister's. And when Winnie did come to herconsciousness she found herself lifted from the floor and onher brother's lap; he half sitting up; his arms round her, andher head still on his breast. Her first movement of awakeningwas to change her position and throw her arms around his neck. 

"Winnie --" he said gently. 

The flood-gates burst then, and her heart poured itself out, her head alternately nestling in his neck and raised up tokiss his face, and her arms straining him with nervouseagerness. 

"O Winthrop! -- O Winthrop! -- O dear Winthrop! --" was the cry, as fast as sobs and kisses would let her. 

"Winnie --" said her brother again. 

"O Winthrop! -- why didn't you come!"

He did not answer that, except by the heaving breast whichpoor Winnie could not feel. 

"I am here now, dear Winnie. "

"O Winthrop! --" Winnie hesitated, and the burden of her heartwould burst forth, -- "why aren't you a Christian! --"

It was said with a most bitter rush of tears, as if she feltthat the most precious thing she had, lacked of preciousness;that her most sure support needed a foundation. But when aminute had stilled the tears, and she could hear, she heardhim say, very calmly, "I am one, Winnie. "

Her tears ceased absolutely on his shoulder, and Winnie wasfor a moment motionless. Then as he did not speak again, sheunclasped her arms and drew back her head to look at him. Theconstant flashes of light gave her chance enough. 

"You heard me right, " he said. 

"Are you?" -- she said wistfully. 

"By God's help -- this night and for ever. "

Winnie brought her hands together, half clapping, halfclasping them, and then threw them to their former positionaround his neck, exclaiming, --

"Oh if _she_ had known it before --!"

There was no answer to that, of words; and Winnie could notsee the sudden paleness which witnessed to the answer within. But it came, keen as those lightning flashes, home-thrust asthe thunderbolts they witnessed to, that his 'now' had cometoo late for her. 

The lightnings grew fainter, and failed -- the thunder mutteredoff in the distance, and ceased to be heard -- the cloudsrolled down the river and scattered away, just as the dawn wasbreaking on Wut-a-qut-o. There had been nothing spoken in thefarmhouse kitchen since Winnie's last words. Winthrop was busywith his own thoughts, which he did not tell; and Winnie hadbeen giving hers all the expression they could bear, in tearsand kisses and the strong clasp of her weak arm, and theenvious resting, trusting, lay of her head upon Winthrop'sshoulder and breast. When the glare of the lightning had allgone, and the grey light was beginning to walk in at thewindows, her brother spoke to her. 

"Winnie, -- you would be better in bed. "

"Oh no, -- I wouldn't. -- Do you want me to go, Governor?" sheadded presently. 

"Not if you could rest as well here, but you want rest, Winnie. "

"I couldn't rest so well _anywhere!_" -- said Winifredenergetically. 

"Then let me take the big chair and give you a chance. "

He took it, and took her in his arms again, where she nestledherself down as if she had been a child; with an action thattouchingly told him anew that she could rest so well nowhereelse. 

"Governor --" she said, when her head had found its place --"you haven't kissed me. "

"I did, Winnie, -- it must have been before you were awake. "

But he kissed her again; and drawing one or two long breaths, of heart-weariness and heart-rest, Winnie went to sleep. 

The grey dawn brightened rapidly; and a while after, Karencame in. It was fair morning then. She stood by the hearth, opposite the two, looking at them. 

"Has she been here all night?" she whispered. 

Winthrop nodded. 

"Poor lamb! -- Ye're come in good time, Master Winthrop. "

She turned and began to address herself to the long gone-outfire in the chimney. 

"What are you going to do, Karen?" he said softly. 

She looked back at him, with her hand in the ashes. 

"Haven't you watched to-night?"

"I've watched a many nights, " she said shaking her head andbeginning again to rake for coals in the cold fireplace, --"this aint the first. _That_ aint nothin'. I'll watch now, dear, 'till the day dawn and the shadows flee away'; -- what elseshould Karen do? 'Taint much longer, and I'll be where there'sno night again. O come, sweet day! --" said the old womanclasping her hands together as she crouched in the fireplace, and the tears beginning to trickle down, -- "when the motherand the childr'n'll all be together, and Karen somewheres --and our home won't be broken up no more! --"

She raked away among the ashes with an eager trembling hand. 

"Karen, --" said Winthrop softly, -- "Leave that. "

"What, dear?" -- she said. 

"Leave that. "

"Who'll do it, dear?"

"I will. "

She obeyed him, as perhaps she would have done for no oneelse. Rising up, Winthrop carried his sleeping sister withoutwakening her, and laid her on the bed in her own little room, which opened out of the kitchen; then he came back and went towork in the fireplace. Karen yielded it to him with equaladmiration and unwillingness; remarking to herself as herrelieved hands went about other business, that, "for sure, nobody could build a fire handsomer than Mr. Winthrop"; -- andthat "he was his mother's own son, and deserved to be!"

CHAPTER XXV. 

That thee is sent receive in buxomness;The wrestling of this worlde askith a fall;Here is no home, here is but wildernesse, Forthe, pilgrim, forthe, o best out of thy stall, Loke up on high, and thanke thy God of all. CHAUCER. 

As soon as she was awake Winnie sought her brother's sideagain; and from that moment never left it when it was possibleto be there. In his arms, if she could; close by his side, ifnearer might not be; she seemed to have no freedom of life butin his shadow. Her very grief was quieted there; either takingits tone from his calm strength, or binding itself with herown love for him. Her brother was the sturdy tree round whichthis poor little vine threw its tendrils, and climbed andflourished, all it could. 

He had but a few days to spend at Shahweetah now. Towards theend of them, she was one evening sitting, as usual, on hisknee; silent and quiet. They were alone. 

"Winnie, " said her brother, "what shall I do with you?"

She put her arms round his neck and kissed him, -- a veryfrequent caress; but she made no answer. 

"Shall I take you to Mannahatta with me?"

"Oh yes, Winthrop!"

It was said with breathless eagerness. 

"I am almost afraid to do it. "

"Why, Winthrop?"

"Hush --" he said gently; for her words came out with a sort ofimpatient hastiness; -- "You don't know what kind of a place itis, Winnie. It isn't much like what home used to be. "

"Nor this aint, neither, " she murmured, nestling her head inhis bosom. 

"But you wouldn't have the free air and country -- I am afraidit wouldn't be so good for you. "

"Yes it would -- it would be better for me. -- I can't hardly begood at all, Governor, except where you are. I get cross now-a-days -- it seems I can't help it -- and I didn't use to do so--"

How gently the hand that was not round her was laid upon hercheek, as if at once forbidding and soothing her sorrow. Forit was true, -- Winnie's disease had wrought to make herirritable and fretful, very different from her former self. And it was true that Winthrop's presence governed it, as noother thing could. 

"Would you rather go with me, Winnie?"

"Oh yes, Governor! --oh yes!"

"Then you shall. "

He went himself first to make arrangements, which he well knewwere very necessary. That one little attic room of his andthat closet which was at once Mother Hubbard's cupboard andhis clothes press, could never do anything for the comfort ofhis little sister. He went home and electrified Mrs. Nettleywith the intelligence that he must leave her and seek largerquarters, which he knew her house could not give. 

"To be sure, " said Mrs. Nettley in a brown study, -- "thekitchen's the kitchen, -- and there must be a parlour, -- andGeorge's painting room, -- and the other's my bedroom, -- andGeorge sleeps in that other little back attic. -- Well, Mr. Landholm, let's think about it. We'll see what _can_ be done. Wecan't let you go away -- George would rather sleep on theroof. "

"He would do what is possible, Mrs. Nettley; and so would I. "

It was found to be possible that "the other little back attic"should be given up. Winthrop never knew how, and was notallowed to know. But it was so given that he could not helptaking. It was plain that they would have been worsestraitened than in their accommodations, if he had refusedtheir kindness and gone somewhere else. 

Mrs. Nettley would gladly have done what she could towardsfurnishing the same little back attic for Winnie's use; but onthis point Winthrop was firm. He gathered himself the fewlittle plain things the room wanted, from the cheapest sourceswhence they could be obtained; even that was a serious drainupon his purse. He laid in a further supply of fuel, forWinnie's health, he knew, would not stand the old order ofthings, -- a fire at meal-times and an old cloak at other timeswhen it was not very cold. Happily it was late in the seasonand much more fire would not be needed; a small stock of woodhe bought, and carried up and bestowed in the closet; he couldput his clothes in Winnie's room now and the closet need nolonger act as a wardrobe. A few very simple stores to add toMother Hubbard's shelves, and Winthrop had stretched hislimited resources pretty well, and had not much more left thanwould take him to Wut-a-qut-o, and bring him back again. 

"I don't see but I shall have to sell the farm, " said Mr. Landholm on this next visit of his son's. 

"Why, sir?"

"To pay off the mortgage -- that mortgage to Mr. Haye. "

Winthrop was silent. 

"I can't meet the interest on it; --I haven't been able to payany these five years, " said Mr. Landholm with a sigh. "If hedon't foreclose, I must. -- I guess I'll take Asahel and go tothe West. "

"Don't do it hastily, father. "

"No, " said Mr. Landholm with another sigh; -- "but it'll cometo that. "

Winthrop had no power to help it. And the money had beenborrowed for him and Rufus. Most for Rufus. But it had beenfor them; and with this added thought of sorrowful care, hereached Mannahatta with his little sister. 

It was early of a cold spring day, the ground white with aflurry of snow, the air raw, when he brought Winnie from thesteamboat and led her, half frightened, half glad, through thestreets to her new home. Winnie's tongue was very still, hereyes very busy. Her brother left the eyes to make their ownnotes and comments, at least he made none, till they hadreached the corner of Little South St. He made none then; thedoor was opened softly, and he brought her up the stairs andinto his room without disturbing or falling in with anybody. Putting her on a calico-covered settee, Winthrop pulled offhis coat and set about making a fire. 

Winnie had cried all the day before and as much of the nightas her poor eyelids could keep awake; and now in a kind oflull, sat watching him. 

"Governor, you'll catch cold --"

"Not if I can make the fire catch, " said he quietly. 

"But you wanted me to keep on _my_ things. "

"Did you want to take them off?"

Winnie sat silent again, shrugging her shoulders to the chillair. But presently the fire caught, and the premonitorysnapping and crackling of the kindling wood gave notice of asudden change of temperature. Winnie's feelings took thecheery influence of the promise and she began to talk in amore hearty strain. 

"Is this your room, Winthrop?"

"This is my room, Winnie. Yours is there, next to it. "

"Through that door?"

"No -- through the entry; -- that is the door of my storehouse. "

Winnie got up to look at it. 

"'Tisn't a very large storehouse, " was her conclusion. 

"And not much in it. But the large storehouses are not faroff, Winnie. Shall I leave you here for five minutes, while Igo to get something from one of them?"

"Do you mean out of doors? -- from the shops?"

"Yes. Shall I leave you five minutes?"

"O yes!"

He had come before her and was holding both her hands. Beforehe let them go he stooped down and kissed her. 

It was not a very common thing for Winthrop to kiss her; andWinnie sat quieted under the power and the pleasure of it tillthe five minutes were run out and he had got back again. Hisgoing and coming was without seeing any one of the house; afact owing to Mrs. Nettley's being away to market and Mr. Inchbald out on another errand. 

Winthrop came in with his hands full of brown papers. Winniewatched him silently again while he put his stores in thecloset and brought out plates and knives and forks. 

"Where do you sleep, Governor?"

"In a pleasanter place than I slept in last night, " said herbrother. 

"Yes, but where? I don't see any bed. "

"You don't see it by day. It only shews itself at night. "

"But where is it, Governor?"

"You're sitting on it, Winnie. "

"This! --"

"What is the matter with it?"

"Why, --" said Winnie, looking dismayfully at the couch withwhich Winthrop had filled the place of his bed, transferred toher room, -- "it's too narrow!"

"I don't fall out of it, " said her brother quietly. 

"It isn't comfortable!"

"I am, when I am on it. "

"But it's hard!"

"Not if I don't think it is hard. "

"I don't see how that makes any difference, " said Winniediscontentedly. "It's hard to me. "

"But it's not your bed, Winnie. "

"I don't like it to be yours, Winthrop. "

He was busy laying a slice of ham on the coals and putting askillet of water over the fire; and then coming to her side hebegan, without speaking, and with a pleasant face, to untiethe strings of her bonnet and to take off that and her othercoverings, with a gentle sort of kindness that made itselffelt and not heard. Winnie bore it with difficulty; herfeatures moved and trembled. 

"It's too much for you to have to take care of me, " she saidin a voice changed from its former expression. 

"Too much?" said Winthrop. 

"Yes. "

"Why?"

"It's too much. Can you do it?"

"I think I can take care of you, Winnie. You forget who haspromised to take care of us both. "

She threw her arms round his neck exclaiming, "I forgeteverything! --"

"No, not quite, " said he. 

"I do! -- except that I love you. I wish I could be good, Winthrop! -- even as good as I used to be. "

"That wouldn't content me, " said her brother; -- "I want you tobe better. "

She clasped her arms in an earnest clasp about his neck, veryclose, but said nothing. 

"Now sit down, Winnie, " said he presently, gently disengagingher arms and putting her into a chair, -- "or something elsewill not be good enough. "

She watched him again, while he turned the ham and put eggs inthe skillet, and fetched out an odd little salt-cellar andmore spoons and cups for the eggs. 

"But Winthrop!" she said starting, -- "where's your tea-kettle?"

"I don't know. _I_ have never had it yet, Winnie. "

"Never had a tea-kettle?"

"No. "

"Then how do you do, Winthrop?"

"I do without, " he said lightly. "Can't you?"

"Do without a tea-kettle!"

"Yes. "

"But how do you make tea and coffee?"

"I don't make them. "

"Don't you have tea and coffee?"

"No, except when somebody else makes it for me. "

"I'll make it for you, Winthrop!"

"No, Winnie -- I don't want you to have it any more thanmyself. "

"But Winthrop -- I can't drink water!"

"I think you can -- if I want you to. "

"_I won't_, " was in Winnie's heart to say; it did not get to herlips. With a very disturbed and unsettled face, she saw herbrother quietly and carefully supply her plate -- the ham andthe eggs and the bread and the butter, -- and then Winniejumped up and came to his arms to cry; the other turn offeeling had come again. He let it have its way, till she hadwept out her penitence and kissed her acknowledgment of it, and then she went back to her seat and her plate and betookherself to her breakfast. Before much was done with it, however, Mrs. Nettley and Mr. Inchbald came to the door; andbeing let in, overwhelmed them with kind reproaches andwelcomes. Winnie was taken down stairs to finish her breakfast_with_ tea and coffee; and Winthrop leaving her in hands that heknew would not forget their care of her, was free to go abouthis other cares, with what diligence they might require. 

That same morning, before she had left her own room, Miss Hayewas informed that a black girl wished to speak with her. Beingaccordingly ordered up, said black girl presented herself. Acomely wench, dressed in the last point of neatness, thoughnot by any means so as to set off her good accidents ofnature. Nevertheless they could not be quite hid; no more thana certain air of abundant capacity, for both her own businessand other people's. She came in and dropped a curtsey. 

"Who are you?" said Elizabeth. 

"I am Clam, ma'am. "

"Clam!" said Elizabeth. "O, are you Clam? Where have you comefrom?"

"From the boat, last place, ma'am. "

"Boat! what boat?"

"The boat what goes with wheels and comes down the river, "said Clam lucidly. 

"Oh! -- And have you just come down?"

"We was comin' down all yesterday and last night, ma'am. "

"_Who_ were coming?"

"Mr. Winthrop Landholm, and Winifred, and me. "

"Winifred and you, " said Elizabeth. "And did he send you tome?"

Clam nodded. "He said he would ha' writ somethin', if he'd ha'had a piece of paper or card or anything, but he hadn'tnothing. "

"He would have written what?"

"Don't know -- didn't say. "

"Do you know who I am?"

Clam nodded again and shewed her teeth. "The lady Mr. Winthropsent me to. "

"Do you remember ever seeing me before?"

"When he was out walkin' with you in the rain, " said Clam, herhead first giving significant assent. 

"Look here, " said Elizabeth a little shortly, -- "when I speakto you, speak, and don't nod your head. "

To which Clam gave the prohibited answer. 

"What are you sent here for now?"

"I dun' know, ma'am. "

"What did Mr. Winthrop say you were to do?"

"Said I was to come here, and behave. "

"Why have you come away from Mrs. Landholm?"

"Didn't, " said Clam. "She went away first. She's gone toheaven. "

"Mrs. Landholm! Is she dead?"

Clam nodded. 

"When? -- and what was the matter?"

"'Twa'n't much of anything the matter with her, " said Clam; --"she took sick for two or three days and then died. It'smore'n a fortnight ago. "

"And they sent for Mr. Winthrop?"

"Job Underhill rode down after him as hard as he could andfetched him up on horseback. "

"In time?" said Elizabeth. 

"He was in time for everything but himself. It was too latefor him. But all the rest of the folks had the good of hiscoming. "

"Why what was there for him to do?" said Elizabeth. 

"He finds enough to do -- or he's pretty apt to --whenever hecomes to a place, " said Clam. "There was everybody to put inorder, about. There was Mr. Landholm hardly fit to live, hewas so willin' to die; and Winifred was crazy. She went andcrawled under one of the beds to hide when she thought he wasa comin'. "

"When who was coming?"

"He -- Mr. Winthrop. And Karen was takin' airs -- _that_ aint outo' the common -- but I'd a little liever have him master thanher mistress -- she wa'n't mine, neither. "

"And where was Mr. Asahel?"

"He was there -- and good enough what there was of him; but hewon't never stand in other folks' shoes. "

"Do you say Winifred was _crazy?_"

"She was so feared to see her brother come home!"

"Her brother Winthrop?"

"There wa'n't no other coming, " said Clam. 

"Poor thing!" said Elizabeth. "And you say he has brought herdown to Mannahatta?"

Clam nodded. "She don't think she's alive when he aint nearher; so he's took her down to live with him. I guess it's goodliving with him, " said Clam sagaciously. "I wish I did it. "

"I must go and see her. Where is she?"

"She's wherever he's took her to. "

"But where's that? -- don't you know?"

"It's to his house -- if you know where that is. "

"Do you know what you've come here to do?" said Elizabethafter a slight pause. 

Clam shook her head. 

"One thing I can tell you, first of all, " said Elizabeth, --"it is to mind what I say to you. "

"Mr. Winthrop said I was to behave, " said Clam with anotherglimpse of her white teeth. 

"Then don't shake your head any more when I speak to you. Whathave you been doing at Wut-a-qut-o?"

"At Wuttle-quttle?" said Clam. 

"At Wut-a-qut-o. What did you do there?"

"'Tain't the name of the place, " said Clam. "They call itShah-wee-tah. "

"Wut-a-qut-o is the name of the mountain -- it's all one. Whathave you been used to do there?"

"Set tables --" said Clam considerately. 

"What did Mrs. Landholm teach you?"

"She learned me 'most everything, " said Clam. "What shelearned me most of all, was to have me read the Bible everyday, and do nothin' wrong o' Sundays, and never say nothin'that wa'n't. "

"That wasn't what?"

"That wa'n't _it_, " said Clam. "Never to say nothin' that wa'n'tthe thing. "

"Why, did you ever do that?" said Elizabeth. 

"Maybe I did, " said Clam, considering her new mistress'sdressing-table. "Mis' Landholm was afeard on't. "

"Well, you must be just as careful about that here, " saidElizabeth. "I love truth as well as she did. "

"All kinds?" said the girl. 

Elizabeth looked at her, with a mouthful of answer which shedid not dare to bring out. Nothing was to be made of Clam'sface, except that infallible air of capacity. There was nosign of impertinent meaning. 

"You look as if you could learn, " she said. 

"Been learnin' ever since I was big enough, " said the blackgirl. And she looked so. 

"Are you willing to learn?"

"Like nothin' better. "

"Provided it's the right kind, I suppose, " said Elizabeth, wholly unable to prevent her features giving way a little atthe unshakable coolness and spirit she had to do with. Clam'sface relaxed in answer, after a different manner from any ithad taken during the interview; and she said, "Well, I'll try. Mr. Winthrop said I was to be good; and Iain't a goin' to do nothin' to displease him, anyhow!"

"But the matter is rather to please _me_, here, " said Elizabeth. 

"Well, " said Clam with her former wide-awake smile, "I guesswhat 'll please him 'll please you, won't it?"

"Go down stairs, and come to me after breakfast, " said hermistress. "I'll let you make some new dresses for yourself thefirst thing. And look here, --" said she pulling a bright-coloured silk handkerchief out of a drawer, -- "put that into aturban before you come up and let me see what you're up to. "

Clam departed without an answer; but when she made herappearance again, the orange and crimson folds were twistedabout her head in a style that convinced Elizabeth her newwaiting-maid's capacity was equal to all the new demands shewould be likely to make upon it. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Never his worldly lot, or worldly state torments him:Less he would like, if less his God had sent him. FLETCHER. 

Winthrop had taken no little charge upon himself in the chargeof his little sister. In many ways. He had a scanty purse, andit better bore the demands of one than of two; but that wasonly a single item. Winnie was not a charge upon his pursealone, but upon his heart and his head and his time. Thedemands were all met, to the full. 

As much as it was possible, in the nature of Winthrop'sbusiness, his sister had him with her; and when he could notbe there, his influence and power. It was trying enough forthe poor child to be left alone as much as she was, for shecould not always find solace in Mrs. Nettley, and sometimescould not endure her presence. Against this evil Winthropprovided as far as he might by giving Winnie little jobs to dofor him while he was gone, and by setting her about whatcourses of self-improvement her delicate system of mind andbody was able to bear. He managed it so that all was for him;not more the patching and knitting and bits of writing whichwere strictly in his line, than the pages of history, the sumsin arithmetic, and the little lesson of Latin, which were forWinnie's own self. He knew that affection, in every one ofthem, would steady the nerves and fortify the will to gopatiently on to the end. And the variety of occupation he lefther was so great that without tiring herself in any one thing, Winnie generally found the lonely hours of her day pretty wellfilled up. Mrs. Nettley was a great help, when Winnie was inthe mood for her company; that was not always. 

His little sister's bodily and mental health was another careupon Winthrop's mind, and on his time. Disease now constantlyruffled the sweet flow of spirits which once was habitual withher. Nothing ruffled his; and his soothing hand could alwaysquiet her, could almost always make her happy, when it waspracticable for him to spare time. Very often when he had notime to give beyond what a word or a look would take from hisbusiness. But those times were comparatively few. He was aptto give her what she needed, and make up for it afterwards atthe cost of rest and sleep when Winnie was abed. Through thewarm summer days he took her daily and twice daily walks, downto the Green where the sea air could blow in her face freshfrom its own quarter, where she and he too could turn theirbacks upon brickwork and pavement and look on at least oneface of nature unspotted and unspoiled. At home he read toher, and with her, the times when he used to read theclassics; and many other times; he talked to her and he playedwith her, having bought a second-hand backgammon board for thevery purpose; he heard her and set her her lessons; and heamused her with all the details of his daily business andexperience that he could make amusing. 

If these things were a charge, it was one for which he wasabundantly rewarded, every night and every morning, and knewit. But the other part of the burden, the drain upon hispurse, was not so easily to be met withal. There was nohelping it. Winnie's state of health made her simple wants, simple as they were, far more costly than his own had been;and he would and did supply them. He could bear to starvehimself and lie hard; but Winnie would very soon starve todeath; and the time when she could sleep softly on a hard bedhad once been, but would never be again, literally orfiguratively. Winthrop never shewed her how it was with him;not the less it was almost the ebb; and whence the flow was tocome, was a point he saw not. He was not yet admitted topractise law; his slender means were almost all gathered fromteaching; and he could not teach any more than he did. Andthis consciousness he carried about with him, to the office, to market, and to his little sister's presence. For her hisface was always the same; and while she had it Winnie thoughtlittle was wanting to her life. 

One morning when she had it not, she was lying wearilystretched out on the couch which was hers by day andWinthrop's by night. It was early June; the sun was paying hisfirst instalment of summer heat, and doing it as if he werebehind-hand with pay-day. Winnie's attic roof gave her a fullshare of his benefits. The hours of the morning had worn away, when towards noon a slow step was heard ascending the stairs. It was her hostess, come up to look after her. 

"All alone?" said Mrs. Nettley. 

"Oh yes! --" came with most fervent breath from Winnie. Herhead uneasily turned the other cheek to the pillow. 

"Poor child!" said Mrs. Nettley; and every line of her carefuland sympathetic face said it over again. "Poor child! -- AndMr. Winthrop's been away all the morning!"

"I don't know why you call me _poor_, " said Winnie, whose nervescould not bear even that slight touch, if it happened to touchthe wrong way; -- "Of course he's been away all the morning --he always is. "

"And you're tired. I didn't mean _poor_, dear, in the way that Iam poor myself; -- not that poor, -- I only meant, -- because youwere so much here all alone without your brother. "

"I know what you meant, " said Winnie. 

"It's hot up here, isn't it, " said Mrs. Nettley going to thewindow. "Dreadful. It's hot down stairs too. Can't we let alittle air in?" --

"Don't! It's hotter with it. "

Mrs. Nettley left the window and came and stood by Winnie'scouch, her face again saying what her voice did not dare tosay, -- "Poor child!" --

"Mrs. Nettley --"

"What, my love?"

"I'm very cross --"

"No you aren't, my love! you're only tired. "

"I'm very cross -- I don't know what makes me so -- butsometimes I feel so it seems as if I couldn't help it. I'mcross even to Winthrop. I'm very much obliged to you, but youmust think I aint. "

"I don't think the least thing of the kind, dearest -- I knowit's miserable and suffocating up here, and you _can't_ feel -- Iwish I could make it better for you!"

"O it'll be better by and by -- when Governor gets home and itgrows cool. "

"Come down and take a bit of dinner with me. "

"O no, thank you, Mrs. Nettley, " said Winnie brightening up, --"I don't want anything; and Governor'll be home by and by andthen we'll have our dinner. I'm going to broil the chicken andget everything ready. "

"Well, that'll be sweeter than anything I've got, " said thegood lady. -- "Why, who's there? --"

Somebody there was, knocking at the door; and when the doorwas opened, who was there shewed herself in the shape of ayoung lady, very bright looking and well dressed. She glancedat Mrs. Nettley with a slight word of inquiry and passing hermade her way on up to the couch. 

"Is this Winifred?" she said, looking, it might be, a littleshocked and a little sorrowful at the pale and mind-worn facethat used to be so round and rosy; and about which the softfair hair still clustered as abundantly as ever. 

"Yes ma'am, " Winifred said, half rising. 

"Don't get up, -- don't you know me?"

Winnie's eye keenly scanned the bright fresh face that bentover her, but she shook her head and said 'no'. 

"Can't you remember my being at your house -- some time ago? --me and" she stopped. "Don't you remember? We spent a goodwhile there -- one summer -- it was when you were a littlegirl. "

"O!" -- said Winnie, -- "are you --"

"Yes. "

"I remember. But you were not so large then, either. "

"I am not very large now, " said her visiter, taking a chairbeside Winnie's couch. 

"No. But I didn't know you. "

"How do you do, dear?"

"I don't know, " said Winnie. "I am not very well now-a-days. "

"And Mannahatta is hot and dusty and disagreeable -- more thanany place you ever were in before in your life, isn't it?"

"I don't care, " said Winnie. "I'd rather be with Winthrop. "

"And can he make up for dust and heat and bad air and all?"

The smile that broke upon Winnie's face Elizabeth rememberedwas like that of old time; there was a sparkle in the eyesthat looked up at her, the lips had their childish play, andthe thin cheek even shewed its dimple again. As she met thelook, Elizabeth's own face grew grave and her brow fell; andit was half a minute before she spoke. 

"But he cannot be with you a great deal of the time. "

"O yes he is, " said Winnie; -- "he is here in the morning, andat breakfast and dinner and tea, and all the evening. And allSundays. "

"That's the best day of the week then, I suppose. "

"It's always that, " said Winnie. "And he takes a great manywalks with me -- every day almost, when it gets cool -- we godown on the Green and stay there as long as it's pleasant. "

Elizabeth was silent again. 

"But doesn't he have studying or writing to do in theevenings? I thought he had. "

"O yes, " said Winnie, "but then it don't hinder him fromtalking to me. "

"And is he good enough to make you like this place better thanyour beautiful country home?"

"I would rather be here, " said Winnie. But she turned her facea little from her questioner, and though it remained perfectlycalm, the eyes filled to overflowing. Elizabeth again paused, and then bending over her where she still lay on her couch, she pressed her own full red lips to Winnie's forehead. Thesalute was instantly returned upon one of her little kidgloves which Winnie laid hold of. 

"You don't know how rich you are, Winifred, to have such agood brother. "

"Yes I do, " said Winifred. "_You_ don't. "

If there was not a rush to Elizabeth's eyes, it was becauseshe fought for it. 

"Perhaps I don't, " she said quietly; -- "for I never had anyone. Will you go and ride with me to-morrow, Winifred?"

"Ride?" said Winifred. 

"Yes. In my carriage. We'll go out of town. "

"O yes! O thank you! I should like it very much. "

"You don't look very strong, " said Elizabeth. "How is it thatyou can take such long walks?"

"O Winthrop don't let me get tired you know. "

"But how does he manage to help it?" said Elizabeth smiling. "Can he do everything?"

"I don't know, " said Winnie. "He don't let me stand too long, and he doesn't let me walk too fast; and his arm is strong, you know; --he can almost hold me up if I do get tired. "

"I have -- or my father has, " -- said Elizabeth, "some very old, very good wine. -- I shall send you some. Will you try it? Ithink it would make you stronger. "

"I don't know whether Winthrop would let me drink it. "

"Why not?"

"O he don't like me to drink anything but water and milk -- hedon't let me have tea or coffee -- and I don't know whetherhe'd like wine; -- but I'll ask him. "

"Don't let you have tea or coffee!"

"No; we drink milk, and water. "

"But don't he let you do whatever you have a mind?"

"No, " said Winnie; "and I don't want to, either. "

"Don't want to do what?"

"Why -- anything that he don't like. "

"Do you love him well enough for that -- not to _wish_ to do whathe don't like, Winifred?"

"Yes!" said Winifred. "I think I do. I may wish it at first, of course; but I don't want to do it if he wishes me not. "

"How did he ever get such power over you!"

"Power!" said Winnie, raising herself up on her elbow, -- "whyI don't know what you mean! I should think everybody would dowhat Winthrop likes -- it isn't _power_. "

"I wonder what is, then!" said Elizabeth significantly. 

"Why it's -- it's -- goodness!" said Winnie, shutting her eyes, but not before they had filled again. Elizabeth bit her lipsto keep her own from following company; not with much success. 

"That's what it is, " said Winnie, without opening her eyes; --"he always was just so. No he wasn't either, -- though italmost seems as if he was, -- but now he's a Christian. "

If outward signs had kept inward feelings company, Elizabethwould have started. She sat still; but the lines of her facewore a look of something very like startled gravity. There wasa silence of more than one minute. Winnie opened her eyes anddirected them upon her still companion. 

"Is he any better than he used to be?" she forced herself tosay. 

"Why yes, " said Winnie, -- "of course -- he must be. He used tobe as good as he could be, except that; -- and now he's thattoo. "

"What difference does 'that' make, Winifred?"

Winnie looked keenly once more at the face of her questioner. 

"Don't you know what it is to be a Christian, Miss Haye?"

Elizabeth shook her head. 

"You must ask Winthrop, " said Winnie. "He can tell you betterthan I can. "

"I want you to tell me. What difference, for instance, has itmade in your brother?"

Winnie looked grave and somewhat puzzled. 

"He don't seem much different to _me_, " she said, -- "and yet he_is_ different. -- The difference is, Miss Haye, that before, heloved _us_ -- and now he loves God and keeps his commandments. "

"Don't he love you now?"

"Better than ever!" said Winnie with her eyes opening; -- "whywhat makes you ask that?"

"Didn't he keep the commandments of the Bible before?"

"No, --not as he does now. Some of them he did, because henever was bad as some people are; -- but he didn't keep them ashe does now. He didn't keep the first commandment of all. "

"Which is that?" said Elizabeth. 

Winnie gave her another earnest look before she answered. 

"Don't you know?"

"No. "

"'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, andwith all thy mind, and with all thy soul, and with all thystrength. '"

If Winifred's face was grave, Elizabeth's took a double shadeof gravity -- it was even dark for a minute, as if with somethought that troubled her. Winnie's eyes seemed to take noteof it, and Elizabeth roused herself. Yet at first it was notto speak. 

"When -- How long ago, do you suppose, " she said, "your brotherwas changed in this way?"

"Since -- since the time I came here; -- since mother died, "Winnie said softly. 

There was again a few minutes of absolute silence; and thenElizabeth rose to go. 

"Shall I send you the wine?" she said smiling. 

"I don't believe Winthrop will let me take it, " Winifred said. 

"Because he is good, are you bound not to get strong?"Elizabeth said with an air of slight vexation. 

"No, " -- said Winnie, "but because he is good I must do what hesays. "

"I wish I liked anybody so well as that!" said Elizabethkissing her. "Good bye, dear, -- I'll come for you to-morrow. There's no objection to that, I suppose?"

"No, " Winnie said laughing; and they parted. 

Five minutes Winnie was alone, thinking over her visit andvisiter. They were a great novelty, and very interesting. Winnie's thoughts roved with an odd mixture of admiration andpity over the beautiful dress, and fine face, and elasticstep; they were bewitching; but Winnie had seen a shadow onthe face, and she knew that the best brightness had neverlighted it. Five minutes were all she had to think about it;then she heard a very different step on the stairs. 

"I heard her go, " said Mrs. Nettley, coming in, "and I had alittle more time to spare; so I thought I would spend it withyou; -- unless you've got enough with such a gay visiter anddon't want me. "

"O no indeed, Mrs. Nettley, I want you just as much. Have youdone dinner?"

"George isn't ready yet;" and Mrs. Nettley took Miss Haye'schair and set her knitting-needles a going. "Has she tired youwith talking?"

"No -- talking doesn't tire me, --and she wasn't a gay visiter, either, Mrs. Nettley -- what do you mean by 'gay'?"

"O, she was handsome, and young, and 'fine feathers make finebirds' I'm sure, " said Mrs. Nettley; -- "wasn't she smartlydressed?"

"Yes, " said Winnie, she had handsome things on; but thatdidn't make her _gay_. "

"Well that was what I meant. How do you like that young lady?"

"I don't know, " said Winnie. "I think I like her. "

"This isn't the first of your seeing her, dear!"

"O no -- she was at our house once. I've seen her before, butthat was a great while ago. I didn't know her again at first. "

"Then she remembered you best. "

"O --" said Winnie, considering, -- "she has seen Rufus andWinthrop since then. "

"She's a handsome young lady, don't you think so?"

"I don't know --" said Winnie. 

"Ask your brother if he don't think so. "

"Why?"

"See if he don't think so. "

"Which brother?"

"Your brother that's here -- your brother Winthrop. "

"Does he think she is?"

"Ask him, " repeated Mrs. Nettley. 

"I don't know why I should ask him, " said Winnie turning overuneasily on her couch; -- "I don't care if she is or no. "

"Ay, but you might care. "

"I don't know why, " said Winnie. 

"How would you like to have a new sister one of these days? --by and by?"

"A sister?"

Mrs. Nettley nodded. 

"A sister!" said Winnie. "How should I have a sister?"

"Why such a thing might be, " said Mrs. Nettley. "Did you neverthink of one of your brothers getting married?"

"Winthrop won't!" said Winnie, -- "and I don't care what Rufusdoes. "

"What makes you think Winthrop won't?"

"He won't!" said Winnie with flushing cheeks. 

"Wouldn't you be glad? You would like anything that would makehim happy. "

"Happy!" said Winnie. -- "Glad! -- I do wish, Mrs. Nettley, youwould go down stairs and leave me alone!"

Mrs. Nettley went away, in some astonishment. And before herastonishment had cooled off in her own kitchen, down cameWinnie, with flushed cheeks still, and watery eyes, and adistressed face, to beg Mrs. Nettley's forgiveness. It wasgranted with her whole heart, and a burden of apologiesbesides; but Winnie's face remained a distressed face still. The chicken, broiled on Mrs. Nettley's fire, was salted withsome tears; and all the simple and careful preparations forWinthrop's dinner were made more carefully than usual; butwhen Winthrop came home, his little sister was as far frombeing herself as ever. 

It happened that Winthrop was very busy that day and had notime to talk, except the disjointed bits of talk that couldcome between the joints of the chicken; and pleasant as thosebits were, they could not reach the want of poor Winnie'sheart. Immediately after dinner Winthrop went out again; andshe was left to get through the afternoon without help ofanybody. 

It had worn on, and the long summer day was drawing to itsclose, when Winthrop was at last set free from his businessengagements and turned his face and his footsteps towardshome. The day had been sultry and his toil very engrossing;but that was not the reason his footsteps flagged. Theyflagged rarely, but they did it now. It needed not that heshould have noticed his little sister's face at dinner; hisordinary burdens of care were quite enough and one of themjust now pressing. In a sort of brown study he was slowlypacing up one of the emptying business streets, when his handwas seized by some one, and Winthrop's startled look up metthe round jocund well-to-do face of the German professor. 

"Wint'rop! -- Where are you going?"

"Home, sir, " -- said Winthrop returning the grasp of hisfriend's hand. 

"How is all wiz you?"

"As usual, sir. "

"Wint'rop -- what is de matter wiz you?"

"Nothing! --" said Winthrop. 

"I know better!" said the naturalist, -- "and I know what itis, too. Here -- I will give you some work to do one of thesedays and then I will pay you the rest. "

And shaking Winthrop's hand again, the philosopher dashed on. But Winthrop's hand was not empty when his friend's hadquitted it; to his astonishment he found a roll of bills leftin it, and to his unbounded astonishment found they were billsto the amount of three hundred dollars. 

If he was in any sort of a study as he paced the rest of hisway home, it was not a brown study; and if his steps wereslow, it was not that they flagged any more. It had come intime; it was just what was needed; and it was enough to keephim on, till he should be admitted to the bar and might edgeoff his craft from her moorings to feel the wind and tide'that lead on to fortune. ' Winthrop never doubted of catchingboth; as little did he doubt now of being able some time topay back principal and interest to his kind friend. He wenthome with a lighter heart. But he had never let Winnie know ofhis troubles, and could not for the same reason talk to her ofthis strange relief. 

Thinking so, he went up the stairs and opened the door of hisand her sitting-room. The sun was down by that time, and theevening light was failing. The table stood ready for tea;Winnie had all the windows open to let in the freshening airfrom the sea, which was beginning to make head against theheats and steams of the city; herself sat on the couch, awayfrom the windows, and perhaps her attitude might say, awayfrom everything pleasant. Winthrop came silently up and put alittle basket in her hand. 

"Oh! --" Winnie sprang forward with an accent of joy, --"Strawberries! -- Beautiful! and so sweet! O Winthrop, aren'tthey sweet! -- how good they will be. "

"I hope so, " said he. "How are you?"

"O -- I'm well, " said Winnie. "How big they are -- and fresh. They do smell so sweet, don't they, Governor?"

Winthrop thought they were not so fresh nor so sweet as thosewhich grew in the Bright Spot under Wut-a-qut-o; but he didn'tremind Winnie of that. He smiled at her, as she was pickingover her basket of strawberries with an eager hand. Yet whenWinnie had got to the bottom of the basket and looked up athim his face was very grave indeed. 

"There's plenty for you and me, Governor, " she said. 

"No, " said her brother. 

"There is plenty, Winthrop!"

"There is only just enough for you, and you must prove that byeating them all. "

"Why didn't you get some for yourself, Governor!"

He answered that by spreading for her a particularly nicepiece of bread and butter and laying it on her plate alongsideof the strawberries. Winnie took it in the same pleasant moodand began upon both with great zeal; but before she had gothalf through the strawberries something seemed to come overher recollection; and the latter part of the meal her facegrew more shadowy than the growing evening. When it was over, Winthrop placed her gently on the couch, and himself put awaythe dishes and glasses and eatables from the table. Then hecame and sat down beside her and drew her head to lean uponhim. It was darkening by that time, and the air coming in moreand more fresh at the windows. 

"Have you been very tired to-day?"

"No -- I don't know --" said Winnie doubtfully. 

"We couldn't have our walk this evening -- I am sorry for that-- but I was kept so long with Bob Satterthwaite. He is in agreat feaze about some property that he thinks is owing to himsomewhere, and he has been giving me a long detail of mattersand things connected with the business. -- I believe that if Iwere in practice he would commission me to get his rights forhim. And an old classmate and friend of mine, Bob Cool, was intown to-day and came to see me. _He_ was expressing a veryearnest wish that I were working on my own hook. "

"Oh I wish you were!" -- said Winnie. 

"Patience. I shall be in a little while more, if all goeswell. Mr. Cool promises I shall have all his business. "

"Is that much?"

"I don't know. It seems so. "

"But isn't Mr. Satterthwaite rich?"

"Yes -- very. "

"Then what is he in a feaze about money for?"

"He is not so rich he mightn't be richer, I suppose, Winnie. And besides, nobody likes to be cheated. "

"Is Mr. Haye rich?"

"Yes! What made you think of him?"

Winnie hesitated. "She was here to-day. "

"She! Who? -- Clam?"

"No, not Clam. "

"Who then?"

"Why -- Miss Haye. "

"Was _she_ here?"

"Yes. "

"When?"

"This morning. She staid a good while with me. "

"It was kind of her, " said Winthrop after a little pause. 

There was a pause then of some length. 

"Has Miss Haye's being here and talking to you, tired you, Winnie?" said her brother, the arm that was round her drawingher more near. 

"No --" Winnie said; but by no means as if Miss Haye's visithad had a sprightly effect. 

"Staid here a good while talking? What did she talk about?"

"O -- I don't know, --" said Winnie, -- "about my drinking wine, and going to ride with her. "

"She is very kind. And what did you tell her?"

"I said I didn't know whether you would let me drink it. Isaid I would go to ride. "

"I am very much obliged to Miss Haye, and very glad for you, Winnie. It will do you good. "

"Would you let me drink wine, if she should send it to me?"

"Did she speak of doing that?"

"Yes. "

There was a little silence. 

"Would you let me take it, Winthrop?"

"I suppose I should. "

"I hope she won't send it, " said Winnie; "and I wish I wasn'tgoing to ride, either. "

"Why?"

"O -- I'd rather stay here. "

They sat a little while without speaking another word; andthen Winthrop withdrawing his arm proposed to have 'some lighton the subject. ' Winifred sprang to get it, but he held herback, and himself got the candle and lit it and placed it onthe table. The light shewed Winnie's face flushed andunresting, and of doubtful signification about the eyes. Winthrop came and took his former place and position by herside. 

"How has the day been with you, Winnie?"

The tone was most gentle and kindly. Winnie hesitated and thensaid, "It hasn't been good. "

"What's the matter?"

"_I_ haven't been good. "

"That isn't such a new thing that you need be surprised at it, -- is it?" he said gently. 

"No" -- under breath. 

"And it isn't so strange a thing that I love you a bit theless for it. "

"But it's very uncomfortable, " said poor Winnie, whose voicebore her witness. 

"I find it so often. "

"You, Governor! -- you _never_ do!" said Winnie energetically. 

"Never do what?"

"Never feel like me. "

"No, Winnie -- I am strong and you are weak -- you are sick and Iam well. I have no excuse -- you have, a little. "

"It don't make it a bit better, " said poor Winnie. "I don'twant to make any excuse. I got so cross with Mrs. Nettley to-day. "

"What about?"

"O I couldn't bear to hear her talk, and I almost told herso. "

"I dare say you did what you could to mend it afterwards, Winnie. "

"O yes; -- and she didn't think anything of it at all; but I amalways doing so, Winthrop. "

"You never do it to me, " said her brother soothingly. 

"To you! -- But O Winthrop! -- if I loved God enough, I nevershould do anything to displease him!"

She had thrown herself further into her brother's arms and atthis was weeping with all her heart. 

"He said once himself, " said Winthrop, "'Blessed are theythat mourn now, for they shall be comforted. '"

Winnie clung faster to him, with a grateful clasp, and hertears came more gently. 

"We sha'n't be quit of it till we get to heaven, Winnie; -- and'the people that dwell therein, ' you know, 'shall be forgiventheir iniquity. ' And more than that, 'white robes are givenunto every one of them. ' 'And they shall see the King's face, and his name shall be in their foreheads. '"

"I wish it was in mine now!" said Winnie. 

"Stop, Winnie. -- I hope it is there, -- only not so bright asit will be by and by. "

"But it ought to be bright now, " said Winnie raising herself. 

"Let it be brighter every day then, " said her brother. 

"I do try, Governor, " said poor Winnie, -- "but sometimes Ithink I don't get ahead at all!"

It was with great tenderness that again he put his arm roundher, and drew down her head upon him, and pressed her close tohis side. 

"Rest! --" said he, -- "and trust what is written, that 'theyshall praise the Lord that seek him. ' 'Wait on the Lord; be ofgood courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart; wait, Isay, on the Lord. '"

"How much better I feel already, " said poor Winnie presently. 

There was a long silence. Winnie lay there still, and Winthropwas softly playing with one of her hands and striking it andstroking it against his own. The air came in fresh and coolfrom the sea and put the candle flame out of all propriety ofbehaviour; it flared and smoked, and melted the candlesideways, and threatened every now and then to go outentirely; but Winnie lay looking at Winthrop's hand which themoonlight shone upon, and Winthrop -- nobody knows what he waslooking at; but neither of them saw the candle. Winnie was theone to break the silence. 

"What sort of a person is she, Winthrop?"

"Who?" said her brother. 

"What? -- O, I mean -- I meant -- I meant, who was here to-day, --Miss Haye. "

"You have seen her, Winnie, " he said after a moment'shesitation. 

"Yes, but you know her. Do you think she is a person I wouldlike?"

"I do not know. "

"You don't know! --"

"But _you_ know her, Winthrop, " said Winnie a little timidly, when she found he added nothing to his former words. 

"Yes. "

"Don't _you_ like her?"

"Yes. "

"Then why don't you know?"

"You don't like everything that I like, " said her brother. 

"Why yes I do! -- Don't I?"

"Not everything. "

"What don't I?"

"Euripides -- and Plato. "

"Ah but I don't understand those, " said Winnie. 

Winthrop was silent. Was that what he meant? -- was Winnie'sinstant thought. Very disagreeable. And his 'yes's' were soquiet -- they told nothing. Winnie looked at her brother's handagain, or rather at Miss Haye in her brother's hand; andWinthrop pursued his own meditations. 

"Governor, " said Winnie after a while, "is Miss Haye aChristian?"

"No. "

Winnie asked no more; partly because she did not dare, andpartly because the last answer had given her so much to thinkof. She did not know why, either, and she would have given agreat deal to hear it over again. In that little word and themanner of it, there had been so much to quiet and to disquiether. Undoubtedly Winnie would have done anything in the world, that she could, to make Miss Haye a Christian; and yet, therewas a strange sort of relief in hearing Winthrop say thatword; and at the same time a something in the way he said itthat told her her relief had uncertain foundation. The 'no'had not been spoken like the 'yes' -- it came out half underbreath; what meaning lurked about it Winnie could not makeout; she puzzled herself to think; but though she could notwish it had been a willing 'no, ' she wished it had been anyother than it had. She could not ask any more; and Winthrop'sface when he went to his reading was precisely what it wasother evenings. But Winnie's was not; and she went to bed andgot up with a sore spot in her heart, and a resolution that_she_ would not like Miss Haye, for she would not know her wellenough to make sure that she could. 

END OF VOL. I. 

PRINTED BY BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ. 

COLLECTION

OF

BRITISH AUTHORS

VOL. CCCLII. 

THE HILLS OF THE SHATEMUC

BY

ELIZABETH WETHERELL. 

IN TWO VOLUMES. 

VOL. II. 

THE

HILLS OF THE SHATEMUC

BY

ELIZABETH WETHERELL, AUTHOR OF "THE WIDE WIDE WORLD. "

_AUTHOR'S EDITION_. 

IN TWO VOLUMES. 

VOL. II. 

LEIPZIG

BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ

1856. 

THE HILLS OF THE SHATEMUC. 

VOL. II. 

CHAPTER I. 

Ha, ha! what a fool honesty is! and trust, his sworn brother, a very simple gentleman!WINTER'S TALE. 

Poor Winnie held to her resolution, though half unconsciouslyand quite involuntarily. She did not enjoy her ride, andtherefore did not seem to enjoy it; for it was not in hernature to seem other than she was. Neither did she take orshew any but a very qualified pleasure in Miss Haye's company;and for this reason or for others Miss Haye made her visitsfew. 

But this did not a bit help the main question; and in the wantof data and the absence of all opportunity for makingobservations, Winnie had full chance to weary herself withfancies and fears. She could not get courage enough to sayanything about Miss Haye again to her brother; and he neverspoke of her. There was no change in him; he was always ascareful of his little sister; always bestowed his time uponher in the same way; was always at home in the evenings. Unless when, very rarely, he made an arrangement that sheshould spend one with Mrs. Nettley and Mr. Inchbald. Thesetimes were seldom; and Winnie generally knew where he wasgoing and that it was not to Mr. Haye's. But she was not sureof the integrity of her possession of him; and that want ofsecurity opened the sluice-gates to a flood-tide of wearisomepossibilities; and Winnie's nervous and morbid sensibilitiesmade the most of them. It was intolerable, to think thatWinthrop should love anybody as he did her; that he shouldlove anybody _better_, happily for Winnie, never entered herimaginings. She could not endure to think that those lips, which were to her the sweetest of earthly things, should touchany other cheek or mouth but her own. They were _hers_. It wasbitter as wormwood to think that his strong arm could everhold and guide another as it held and guided his littlesister. "But _guide?_ -- _she'd_ never let him guide her!" -- saidWinnie in a great fit of sisterly indignation. And herthoughts would tumble and toss the matter about, till hercheek was in a flush; she was generally too eager to cry. Itwore upon her; she grew thinner and more haggard; but nobodyknew the cause and no one could reach the remedy. 

With all this the end of summer came, and Rufus. He came toestablish himself under Mr. Haye's direction. "For the time, "-- as Winthrop told Winnie, when she asked him if Rufus wasgoing to turn merchant. And when she asked him further "whatfor?" -- he answered that Rufus was a spice merchant and dealtin variety. With the end of autumn came Winthrop's admissionto the bar. 

And Winnie drew a mental long breath. Winthrop was a lawyerhimself, and no longer in a lawyer's office. Winthrop had anoffice of his own. The bark was shoved from the shore, withher sails set; and Winnie, no more than her brother, doubtednot that the gales of prosperity would soon fill them. Rufuswas greatly amused with her. 

"_You_ think it's a great thing to be a lawyer, don't you?" saidhe one night. 

"I think it's a great thing to be such a lawyer as Governorwill be, " said Winnie. 

At which Rufus laughed prodigiously. 

"_I_ think it's a great thing to be such a governor as thislawyer will be, " he said when he had recovered himself. "Nothing less, Governor! You have your title beforehand. "

"'Once a judge always a judge, '" said Winthrop. "I am afraidif you reverse the terms, so you will the conclusion. "

"Terms!" said Rufus. "You will be governor of this state, andI shall be your financial secretary -- on any terms you please. By the way -- what keeps you from Haye's now-a-days? Not thisgirl?"

"No, " said Winthrop. 

It was that same 'no' over again. Winnie knew it, and herheart throbbed. 

"What then? I haven't seen you there since I've been in town. "

"How often are you there yourself?"

"O! -- every evening almost. What keeps you?"

"Duty --" said Winthrop. 

"But what sort of duty! What on earth can hinder your comingthere as you used to do, to spend a rational hour now andthen?"

"My dear sir, it is enough for any man to know his own duty;it is not always possible for him to know that of anotherman. "

"And therefore I ask you!" said Rufus. 

"What?"

"Why! -- what's your reason for keeping away. "

"In brief -- my engagements. "

"You've nothing to do with briefs yet, " said Rufus; "have thegoodness to enlarge a little. You've not been more busy latelythan you were a while ago. "

"Yes I have. "

"Yes, I suppose you have, " -- said Rufus meditatively. "But notso much more as to make that a reason?"

"If my reasons were not only 'as plenty' but as precious, asblackberries, " said his brother, "you could not shew moreeagerness for them. "

"I am afraid the blackberries would be the more savoury, " saidRufus laughing a little. "But you didn't use to make such ahermit of yourself, Winthrop. "

"I don't intend to be a hermit always. But as I told you, dutyand inclination have combined to make me one lately. "

Winnie could not make much of this conversation. The wordsmight seem to mean something, but Winthrop's manner had beenso perfectly cool and at ease that she was at a loss to knowwhether they meant anything. 

Winthrop's first cause was not a very dignified one -- it wassomething about a man's horse. Winnie did not think much ofit; except that it was his first cause, and it was gained; butthat she was sure beforehand it would be. However, moredignified pieces of business did follow, and came fast; and atevery new one Winnie's eyes sparkled and glistened, and hernervous troubles for the moment laid themselves down beneathjoy, and pride in her brother, and thankfulness for hissuccess. Before many months had passed away, something offeredthat in better measure answered her wishes for hisopportunity. 

Their attic room had one evening a very unwonted visiter inthe shape of Mr. Herder. Beside Mr. Inchbald and his sister, Rufus was the sole one that ever made a third in the littlecompany. Winthrop's friends, for many reasons, had not theentrance there. But this evening, near the beginning of thenew year, there came a knock at the door, and Mr. Herder'sround face walked in rounder than ever. 

"Good evening! -- How is all wiz you, Wint'rop? -- and you? -- Iwould not let no one come up wiz me -- I knew I should findyou. "

"How did you know that, Mr. Herder?"

"O! -- I have not looked so long for strange things on theearth -- and _in_ the earth -- that I cannot find a friend -- demost strange thing of all. "

"Is that your conclusion, Mr. Herder? I didn't know you hadquite so desperate an opinion of mankind. "

"It is not despairate, " said the naturalist; -- "I do notdespair of nobody. Dere is much good among de world -- deremight be more -- a good deal. I hope all will be good one day --it will be -- then we shall have no more trouble. How is it wizyou, Wint'rop?"

"Nothing to complain of, Mr. Herder. "

"Does he never have nozing to complain of?" said thenaturalist turning to Winnie. 

"He never thinks he has, " said Winnie. She had answered thenaturalist's quick eye with a quick smile, and then turned onWinthrop a look that spoke of many a thing he must have passedover to make her words good. Mr. Herder's eye followed hers. 

"How is everything with _you_, Mr. Herder?"

"It is well enough, " said the naturalist, -- "like the common. I do not complain, neizer. I never have found time tocomplain. Wint'rop, I am come to give you some work. "

"What do you want me to do, sir?"

"I do not know, " said the naturalist; -- "I do not know nozingabout what is to be done; but I want you to do something. "

"I hope you will give me something more to go to work upon, sir. What is the matter?"

"It is not my matter, " said the naturalist; -- "I did never getin such a quarrel but one, and I will never again in anozer --it is my brother, or the man who married my sister -- his nameis Jean Lansing. "

"What is the matter with him?"

"Dere is too many things the matter wiz him, " said Mr. Herder, "for he is sick abed -- that is why I am here. I am come totell you his business and to get you to do it. "

"I shall think I am working for you, Mr. Herder, " Winthropsaid, as he tied up a bundle of papers which had been lyingloose about the table. 

"Have you got plenty to do?" said the naturalist, giving thema good-humoured eye. 

"Can't have too much, sir. Now what is your brother's affair?"

"I do not know as I can tell you, " said the other, his brightjovial face looking uncommonly mystified, -- "it seems to me hedoes not know very well himself. He does not know that anybodyhas done nozing, but he is not _satisfied_. "

"And my business is to satisfy him?"

"If you can do that -- you shall be satisfied too!" said thenaturalist. "He does not know that any one has wronged him:but he thinks one has. "

"Who?"

"Ryle -- John Ryle. He was Mr. Lansing's partner in businessfor years -- I do not know how many. "

"Here?"

"In Mannahatta -- here -- they were partners; and Ryle hadbrothers in England, and he was the foreign partner andLansing was here, for the American part of the business. Well, they were working togezer for years; -- and at the end of them, when they break up the business, it is found that Ryle hasmade himself money, and that my brother has not made none! Sohe is poor, and my sister, and Ryle is rich. "

"How is that?"

"It is that way as I tell you; and Ryle has plenty, andLansing and Therésa they have not. "

"But has Mr. Lansing no notion how this may have come about?"

"He knows nozing!" said the naturalist, -- "no more than youknow -- except he knows he is left wizout nozing, and Ryle hasnot left himself so. Dat is all he knows. "

"Can I see Mr. Lansing?"

"He is too sick. And he could tell you nozing. But he is notsatisfied. "

"Is John Ryle of this city?"

"He is of this city. He is not doing business no more, but helives here. "

"Well, we can try, Mr. Herder, " said Winthrop, tapping hisbundle of papers on the table, in a quiet wise that was astrong contrast to the ardent face and gestures of thephilosopher. It was the action, too, of a man who knew how totry and was in no doubt as to his own power. The naturalistfelt it. 

"What will you do, Wint'rop?"

"You wish me to set about it?"

"I do. I put it in your hands. "

"I will try, Mr. Herder, what can be done. "

"What will you do first?" said the naturalist. 

"File a bill in equity, " said Winthrop smiling. 

"A bill? -- what is that?"

"A paper setting forth certain charges, made on suppositionand suspicion only, to which charges they must answer onoath. "

"_Who_ will answer?"

"Ryle and his brothers. "

"Dere is but one of them alive. "

"Well, Ryle and his brother, then. "

"But what charges will you make? We do not know nozing tocharge. "

"Our charges will be merely on supposition and suspicion --it's not needful to swear to them. "

"And they must swear how it is?"

"They must swear to their answers, "

"That will do!" said the naturalist, looking 'satisfied'already. "That will do. We will see what they will say. -- Doyou do nozing but write bills all night, every night, and tieup papers? -- you do not come to my room no more since a longtime. "

"Not for want of will, Mr. Herder. I have not been able togo. "

"Bring your little sister and let her look at my things sometime -- while you and me we look at each other. It is good tolook at one's friend sometime. "

"I have often found it so, Mr. Herder. I will certainly bringWinnie if I can. "

"Do you not go nowhere?" said the naturalist as if a thoughthad struck him. "What is de reason that I do not meet you atMr. Haye's no more?"

"I go almost nowhere, sir. "

"You are wrong, " said the naturalist. "You are not right. Dereis more will miss you than me; and there is somebody there whowants you to take care of her. "

"I hope you are mistaken, sir. "

"She wants somebody to take care of her, " said Mr. Herder;"and I do not know nobody so good as you. I am serious. She isjust as afraid as ever one should take care of her, and poorthing she wants it all the more. She will not let your brotherdo it neizer. "

"Do you think he is trying, Mr. Herder?" Winthrop said coolly. 

"I believe he would be too glad! he looks at her so hard as hecan; but she will not look at the tops of his fingers. Shedoes not know what she shall do wiz herself, she is so mad wizher father's new wife. "

"What has she been doing?" Winthrop asked. 

"Who, Rose? -- she has not done nozing, but to marry Elisabet'sfather, and for that she never will forgive her. I am sorry --he was foolish man. -- Wint'rop, you must not shut yourself uphere -- you will be directly rich -- you must find yourself awife next thing. "

"Why should a lawyer have a wife any more than a philosopher?"said Winthrop. 

"A philosopher, " said Mr. Herder, with the slightest comicalexpression upon his broad face, -- "has enough for him to do totake care of truth -- he has not time to take care of his wifetoo. While I was hunting after de truth, my wife would forgetme. "

"Does it take you so long for a hunt?"

"I am doing it all de time, " said the naturalist; "it is whatI spend my life for. I live for that. "

The last words were spoken with a quiet deliberation whichtold their truth. And if the grave mouth of the other mighthave said 'I live for truth' too, it would not have belied histhoughts. But it was truth of another kind. 

Winnie watched the course of this piece of business of Mr. Herder's with the most eager anxiety. That is, what there wasto watch, for proceedings were slow. The very folio pages ofthat 'Bill, ' that she saw Winthrop writing, were scrolls ofinterest and mysterious charm to Winnie's eyes, like nothingsurely that other eyes could find in them. Certainly not theeyes of Mr. Ryle and his lawyer. Winnie watched the billfolded up and superscribed, standing over her brother with herhand on his shoulder. 

"What is that about, now, Governor? -- what is it to do?"

"It charges Mr. Ryle and his brother with malpractices, Winnie-- with dealing unfairly by Mr. Lansing. "

"But you don't know that they have done anything?"

"They can shew it, in that case; and the object of this billis to make them shew one thing or the other, by their answer. "

"And, dear Governor, how soon will they answer?"

"In forty days, Winnie, they must. "

Winnie drew a breath of patience and impatience, and went backto her seat. 

But before the forty days were gone by, Winthrop came home onenight and told Winnie he had got the answer; and smiled at herface of eagerness and pleasure. Winnie thought his smiles werenot very often, and welcomed every one. 

"But it is not likely this answer will settle the question, Winnie, " he remarked. 

"O no, I suppose not; but I want to know what they say. "

So they had supper; and after supper she watched while he satreading it; as leaf after leaf was turned over, from theclose-written and close-lying package in Winthrop's hand tothe array of pages that had already been turned back and layloose piled on the table; while Winthrop's pencil now and thenmade an admonitory note in the margin. How his sister admiredhim! -- and at last forgot the bill in studying the face of thebill-reader. It was very little changed from its old wont; andwhat difference there might be, was not the effect of abusiness life. The cool and invariable self-possession andself-command of the character had kept and promised to keephim _himself_, in the midst of these and any other concerns, however entangling or engrossing. The change, if any, wastraceable to somewhat else; or to somewhat else Winnie laidit, -- though she would not have called it a change, but onlyan added touch of perfection. She could not tell, as shelooked, what that touch had done; if told, perhaps it mightbe, that it had added sweetness to the gravity and gravity tothe sweetness that was there before. How Winnie loved thatbroad brow, and the very hand it rested on! All the well-knownlines of calmness and strength about the face her eye wentover and over again; she had quite forgotten Mr. Ryle; and shesaw Winthrop folding up the voluminous "answer, " and shehardly cared to ask what was in it. She watched the hands thatwere doing it. _They_ seemed to speak his character, too; shethought they did; calmness and decision were in the veryfingers. Before her curiosity had recovered itself enough tospeak, Mr. Herder came in. 

They talked for awhile about other things; and then Winthroptold him of the answer. 

"You have it!" cried the naturalist. "And what do they say?"

'Nothing, fully and honestly. "

"Ah ha! -- And do they grant -- do they allow anything of yourcharges, that you made in your bill?"

"Yes -- in a vague and unsatisfactory way, they do. "

"Vague --?" said the naturalist. 

"Not open and clear. But the other day in the street I wasstopped by Mr. Brick --"

"Who is Brick?" said Mr. Herder. 

"He is Ryle's lawyer. He stopped me a few days ago and told methere was one matter in the answer with which perhaps I wouldnot be satisfied -- which perhaps I should not thinksufficiently full; but he said, he, who had drawn the answer, _knew_, personally, all about it; and he assured me that theanswer in this matter granted all, and more, than I could gainin any other way; and that if I carried the proceedingsfurther, in hopes to gain more for my client, the effect wouldonly be an endless delay. "

"Do they offer to give him _something?_" said the naturalist. 

"The answer does make disclosures, which though, as I said, vague and imperfect, still promise to give him something. "

"And you think it might be more?"

"Brick assures me, on his own knowledge, that by going on withthe matter we shall only gain an endless lawsuit. "

"What do you think, Wint'rop?"

"I want you to give this paper to Mr. Lansing, and ask himwhat _he_ thinks. Ask him to read it, and tell him what Bricksays; and then let him make up his mind whether we had bettergo on or not. "

"I do not care for nobody's mind but yours, " said thenaturalist. 

"Let us have Mr. Lansing's first. "

So Mr. Herder carried away the answer to Mr. Lansing, and in afew days came back to report progress. 

"He has read it, " said Mr. Herder, "and he says he do not makeanything of it at all. He leaves the whole thing wiz you. "

"Does he understand what is hinted at by these halfdisclosures?"

"He says he does not understand nozing of it -- he knows notwhat they mean -- he does not know whether to go on, whether tostop here. He says, and I say, you judge and do what youplease. "

"I confess, Mr. Herder, that Mr. Brick's kind warning has mademe suspicious of his and his principal's good faith; and mywill would be to go on. "

"Go on, then!" said the naturalist -- "I say so too -- go on! Ido not trust that Brick no more than you do; and Mr. Ryle, _him_I do not trust. Now what will you do next?"

"Take exceptions to the answer, where it seems to beinsufficient, and make them answer again. "

"Exception --?" said the naturalist. 

In answer to which Winthrop went into explanations at somelength; from which at least this much was clearly made out byMr. Herder and Winnie, -- that the cause would come to ahearing probably in May, before Chancellor Justice; whenWinthrop and Mr. Brick would stand openly pitted against eachother and have an opportunity of trying their mutual strength, or the strength of their principles; when also it would, according to the issue of said conflict, be decided whetherthe Ryles must or not reply to Winthrop's further demands uponthem. 

"And this Chancellor Justice -- is he good man?" said Mr. Herder. 

"As good a man as I want to argue before, " said Winthrop. "Iask no better. All is safe in that quarter. "

That all was safe in another quarter, both Mr. Herder andWinnie felt sure; and both looked eagerly forward to May; bothtoo with very much the same feeling of pride and interest intheir champion. 

Winnie's heart jumped again at hearing a few days after, thatMr. Satterthwaite had put his affairs into Winthrop's hands;partly, Winthrop said he supposed, out of friendship for him, and partly out of confidence in him. It was rather a mark ofthe former, that he insisted upon paying a handsome retainingfee. 

"Now where's Mr. Cool and his affairs?" said Winnie. 

"I suppose Mr. Cool is at Coldstream, where he keeps 'cool'all the year round, I understand. "

"But he promised to put _his_ affairs into your hands. "

"Then he'll do it. Perhaps they keep cool too. "

"I wish May would be here, " said Winnie. 

Winthrop was at the table one evening, -- while it still wantedsome weeks of the May term, -- writing, as usual, with heaps offolio papers scattered all about him; writing fast; and Winniewas either reading or looking at him, who was the book sheloved best to study; when Rufus came in. Both looked up andwelcomed him smilingly; but then Winthrop went on with hiswriting; while Winnie's book was laid down. She had enoughelse now to do. Rufus took a seat by the fire and did as sheoften did, -- looked at Winthrop. 

"Are you always writing?" said he somewhat gloomily. 

"Not always, " said Winthrop. "I sometimes read, for variety. "

"Law papers?"

"Law papers -- when I can't read anything else. "

"That's pretty much all the time, isn't it?"

"O no, " said Winnie; -- "he reads a great deal to me -- we werereading a while ago, before you came in -- we read everyevening. "

Rufus brought his attention round upon her, not, as it seemed, with perfect complacency. 

"What time does this girl go to bed?"

How Winnie's face changed. Winthrop answered without stoppinghis pen. --

"When she is tired of sitting up -- not until then. "

"She ought to have a regular hour -- and an early one. "

"You are an adviser upon theory, you see, " said Winthrop goingon with his writing; -- "I have the advantage of practice. "

"I fancy any adviser would tell you the same in this case, "said the elder brother somewhat stiffly. 

"I can go now, " Winifred said rising, and speaking with atrembling lip and a tremulous voice, -- "if you want to talkabout anything. "

She lit a candle and had got to the door, when her otherbrother said, "Winnie! --"

Winnie stopped and turned with the door in her hand. Winthropwas busy clearing some books and papers from a chair by hisside. He did not speak again; when he had done he looked upand towards her; and obeying the wish of his face, as shewould have done had it been any other conceivable thing, Winnie shut the door, set her candle down, and came and tookthe chair beside him. But then, when she felt his arm putround her, she threw her head down upon him and burst into afit of nervously passionate tears. _That_ was not his wish, sheknew, but she could not help it. 

"Mr. Landholm, " said Winthrop, "may I trouble you to put outthat candle. We are not so extravagant here as to burnbedlights till we want them. -- Hush, Winnie, --" softly saidhis voice in her ear and his arm at the same time. 

"Absurd!" said Rufus, getting up to do as he was bid. 

"What?" said his brother. 

"Why I really want to talk to you. "

"I am really very willing to listen. "

"But I do not want to talk to anybody beside you. "

"Winnie hears everything that is said here, Will, " said theyounger brother gravely, at the same time restraining with hisarm the motion he felt Winnie made to go. 

"It don't signify!" said Rufus, getting up and beginning towalk up and down the room gloomily. 

"What doesn't signify?"

"Anything! --"

The steps were quicker and heavier, with concealed feeling. Winthrop looked at him and was silent; while Rufus seemed tobe combating some unseen grievance, by the set of his lip andnostril. 

"What do you think Haye has done?" -- he broke out, like ahorse that is champing the bit. 

"What?" said Winthrop. 

"He has sued me. "

"Sued you!" exclaimed Winthrop, while even Winnie forgot hertears and started up. Rufus walked. 

"What do you mean, Will?"

"I mean he has sued me!" -- said Rufus stopping short andfacing them with eyes that for the moment had established anatural pyrotechny of their own. 

"How, and what for?"

"How? -- by the usual means! What for? -- I will tell you!"

Which he sat down to do; Winthrop and Winnie both his mostearnest auditors. 

"You know it was Haye's own proposition, urged by himself, that I should go into business with him. Nobody asked him -- itwas his own doing; it was his declared purpose and wish, unsolicited by me or my father or by anybody, to set meforward in his own line and put me in the way of making myfortune! -- as he said. "

Winthrop knew it, and had never liked it. He did not tellRufus so now; he gave him nothing but the attention of hiscalm face; into which Rufus looked while he talked, as if itwere the safe, due, and appointed treasury in which to bestowall his grievances and passionate sense of them. 

"Well! -- you know he offered, a year ago or more, that by wayof making a beginning, I should take off his hands some cottonwhich he had lying in storage, and ship it to Liverpool on myown account; and as I had no money, I was to pay him bydrawing bills in his favour upon the consignees. "

"I remember very well, " said Winthrop. 

"Well sir! -- the cotton reached Liverpool and was found goodfor nothing!"

"Literally?"

"Literally, sir! -- wasn't worth near the amount of my bills, which of course were returned -- and Haye has sued me for therest!"

Rufus's face looked as if a spark from it might easily haveburnt up the whole consignment of cotton, if it had happenedto be in the neighbourhood. 

"How was the cotton? -- damaged?"

"Damaged? -- of course! -- kept in vaults here till it wasspoiled; and he knew it!"

"For what amount has he sued you?" said Winthrop when Rufushad fed his fire silently for a couple of minutes. 

"For more than I can pay -- or will! --"

"How much does that stand for, in present circumstances?"

"How much? A matter of several hundreds!"

"How many?"

"So many, as I should leave myself penniless to pay, and thennot pay. You know I lost money down there. "

"I know, " said his brother. 

Winifred brought her eyes round to Winthrop; and Winthroplooked grave; and Rufus, as before, fiery; and there was asilence this time of more than two minutes. 

"My dependence is on you, Governor, " Rufus said at last. 

"I wish I could help you, Will. "

"How can I get out of this scrape?"

"You have no defence in law. "

"But there must be a defence somewhere!" said Rufus drawinghimself up, with the whole spirit of the common law apparentlywithin him, energizing the movement. 

"The only hope of relief would be in the equity courts. "

"How there?" said Rufus. 

Winthrop hesitated. 

"A plea of fraud -- alleging that Mr. Haye has overreached you, putting off upon you goods which he _knew_ to be worthless. "

"To be sure he did!" said Rufus. "Knew it as well as he doesnow. It was nothing but a fraud. An outrageous fraud!"

Winthrop made no answer, and the brothers paused again, eachin his meditations. Winnie, passing her eyes from one to theother, thought Winthrop looked as if his were very grave. 

"I depend upon you, Governor, " the elder brother said morequietly. 

"To do what?"

"Why! --" said Rufus firing again, -- "to do whatever isnecessary to relieve me! Who should do it?"

"I wish you could get somebody else, Will, " said the other. 

"I am sorry I cannot!" said Rufus. "If I had the money I wouldpay it and submit to be trodden upon -- I would rather take itsome ways than some others -- but unhappily necessity is laidupon me. I _cannot_ pay, and I am unwilling to go to jail, and I_must_ ask you to help me, painful as it is. "

Winthrop was silent, grave and calm as usual; but Winnie'sheart ached to see _how_ grave his eye was. Did she read itright? He was silent still; and so was Rufus, though watchingfor him to speak. 

"Well!" said Rufus at last getting up with a start, "I willrelieve you! I am sorry I troubled you needlessly -- I shallknow better than to do it again! --"

He was rushing off, but before he reached the door Winthrophad planted himself in front of it. 

"Stand out of my way. "

"I am not in it. Go back, Will. "

"I won't, if you please. -- I'll thank you to let me open thedoor. "

"I will not. Go back to your seat, Rufus -- I want to speak toyou. "

"I was under the impression you did _not_, " said Rufus, standingstill. "I waited for you to speak. "

"It is safe to conclude that when a man makes you wait, he hassomething to say. "

"You are more certain of it when he lets you know what it is, "said Rufus. 

"Provided he knows first himself. "

"How long does it take _you_ to find out what you have to say?"said Rufus, returning to his ordinary manner and his seat atonce. The fire seemed to have thrown itself off in that lastjet of flame. 

"I sometimes find I have too much; and then there is apt to bea little delay of choice. "

"A delay to choose? -- or a choice of delay?" said Rufus. 

"Sometimes one and sometimes the other. "

One or the other seemed still in force with Winthrop's presentmatter of speech, for he came before the fire and stoodmending it, and said nothing. 

"Winthrop, " said Rufus gravely, "have you any _particular_reason to decline doing this business for me?"

Winthrop hesitated slightly, and then came forth one of thosesame "no's, " that Winnie knew by heart. 

"Have you any particular reason to dislike it?"

"Yes. They were my friends once. "

"But is your friendship for them stronger than for anybodyelse?"

"It does not stand in the way of my duty to you, Will. "

"Your _duty_ to me, --" said the other. 

"Yes. I cannot in this instance call it pleasure. "

It was the turn of Rufus to hesitate; for the face of hisbrother expressed an absence of pleasure that to him, in thecircumstances, was remarkable. 

"Then you do not refuse to undertake this job for me?"

"I will do what I can, " said Winthrop, working at a largeforestick on the fire. How Winnie wished he would let italone, and place himself so that she could see him. 

"And don't you think there is good prospect of oursucceeding?"

"If Chancery don't give it you, I'll take it to the Court ofErrors, " said Winthrop, arranging the log to his satisfaction, and then putting the rest of the fire in order. 

"I'm sorry to give you trouble, Governor, " his brother saidthoughtfully. 

"I'm sorry you've got it to give, Will. "

But Rufus went on looking into the fire, and seeming to getdeeper into the depths of something less bright as he looked. 

"After all I am much the most to be pitied, " he began. "Ithought to-day, Governor -- I did not know what would become ofme!"

"I can tell you that beforehand, " said his brother. "You willbecome, exactly, what you choose to make yourself. "

"That is what you always say, " returned Rufus a littlecynically. 

"That is what I have found in my own practice, " said Winthrop. He put up the tongs and took his old seat by Winnie. Rufuslooked still into the fire. 

"I am thrown out of this employment now, " he said; -- "I amdisgusted with it -- and if I were not, there is no way for meto follow it with advantage. "

"I am not sorry for that, Will. I never liked it for you, noryou for it. "

"I have nothing to do. -- I am a loose pin in the Mosaic ofsociety -- the pattern is all made up without me. "

"What pin has got your place?" said Winthrop. 

"What do you mean?"

"Simply, that as in the nature of things there cannot be toomany pins, a pin that is out of place must be such by aderelict of duty. "

"What is my place?"

"If my word would set you in it, I would tell you. "

"Tell me, and perhaps it will. "

"I should bid you return to your engineer's work and serve Godin it. "

"Very poor chance for serving God or man, in that work, " saidRufus. "Or myself. "

"And no chance at all so long as you are doing nothing. "

"I cannot bear to compare myself with you, " -- Rufus went onmoodily. 

"Compare yourself with yourself, Will, -- the actual with thepossible, -- and then go forward. "

"What is possible in an engineer's life!" said Rufus. 

"Everything is possible, in any place where Providence has putyou, for the future at least. And the firm purpose of servingGod in it, will dignify for the present any life. 

"'A man that looks on glass"'On it may stay his eye;"'Or, if he pleaseth, through it pass, "'And then the heaven espy!'"

Rufus met the grave slight smile on his brother's face, andhis eye watered. 

"You are better than I am, " he said with one of very differentmeaning. 

"If that be true to-day, Will, don't let it be true to-morrow. "

They wrung each other's hands, and the elder brother wentsoberly away. 

CHAPTER II. 

An't be any way, it must be with valour; for Policy I hate: Ihad as lief be a Brownist as a politician. TWELFTH NIGHT. 

The family at No. 11 on the Parade, were seated at breakfastone morning towards the latter end of May; the old trio, onlywith Elizabeth and Rose in each other's places. 

"What is the reason Winthrop Landholm don't come here anymore?" said the latter lady. 

"I don't know, " said Mr. Haye, when the silence had threatenedthe failure of any answer at all. 

"What's the reason, Lizzie?"

"I don't know! -- how should I?"

"I am sure I can't tell, " said Rose, "but I didn't know butyou did. I wish you'd ask him to come again, Mr. Haye -- do youknow how he is getting up in the world?"

"I know how cotton is falling, " said Mr. Haye, swallowing histea and the newspaper apparently both at the same time. 

"Cotton! --" said Rose. "Now Mr. Haye, just put down that paperand listen to me; -- do you know how Winthrop Landholm isholding his head up?"

"No, " said Mr. Haye, looking at the pretty little head whichwas holding itself up, over against him. 

"Well, he is. You didn't hear what Mr. Satterthwaite wassaying about him last night, did you?"

"I didn't hear Mr. Satterthwaite say anything. "

"Well he says he's had quite a great cause come on, now, justa few days ago --"

"Who has? Mr. Satterthwaite?"

"Why no, Mr. Haye! -- of course! -- I mean Mr. Landholm has -- acause that he was to argue, you know -- that's what I mean --before Chancellor Justice -- and Mr. Satterthwaite says he didit splendidly! -- he said everybody stood and looked; -- and theChancellor gave him everything he asked for -- made all hisexceptions, he said, whatever that means --"

"_Allowed_ his exceptions, " said Elizabeth. 

"O you could listen when Mr. Satterthwaite was speaking ofWinthrop Landholm!"

"Mr. Satterthwaite don't often have so good a subject. Ilistened certainly, and was very much interested; -- the onlytime I ever remember Mr. Satterthwaite's saying anything Icared to hear. "

"Well, now, Mr. Haye, why isn't it just as well to say '_made_an exception, ' as '_allowed_ an exception'? I don't think'allowed an exception' is good English. "

"It is good law English, I suppose, Rose. "

"Well, I don't care -- at any rate, he said the Chancellorallowed every one of Mr. Landholm's exceptions, -- suppose _you_understand it; -- and wouldn't allow a single thing to Mr. Brick; and Mr. Brick was the lawyer on the other side; and Mr. Satterthwaite said it was a great triumph for Mr. Landholm. "

"Dustus O. Brick?" said Mr. Haye. 

"Yes, " said Elizabeth. 

"I don't know, " said Rose; "he said Mr. Brick, -- or the notedMr. Brick -- I suppose that's the man. "

"Dustus O. Brick!" said Mr. Haye -- "he's one of the best menin the bar, and a very clever man too; a distinguished lawyer;there's no one more thought of. "

"That's what Mr. Satterthwaite said, -- he said so, -- he saidit was a great triumph for Mr. Landholm; -- and now Mr. Haye, _won't_ you ask him to come here again as he used to?"

"Who?"

"Winthrop Landholm. "

"What for?"

"Why I want to _see_ him -- and so do you, Mr. Haye. Now Mr. Haye, won't you? -- Though I don't know but Elizabeth would bethe best one to ask him. "

"Why?" dryly said the master of the house. 

"I guess he'd be more likely to come. "

"If I thought so, and it were my part to do it, I certainlyshould ask him, " said Elizabeth. "There isn't any person sopleasant as he to take his place, among all that come here. "

"You were glad of what Mr. Satterthwaite told us last nightweren't you?" said Rose with a sinister smile. 

"Very glad!"

"Did you ever hear Mr. Satterthwaite go on so about anybody?One would have thought Mr. Landholm was his own brother. Iwonder if that was for your sake, Lizzie?"

"I presume it was for his own sake, " said Elizabeth. "I shouldthink anybody who had the privilege of being Mr. Landholm'sfriend, would know how to value it. "

"_You_ would value it, for instance, I suppose?"

"I have no doubt I should. "

"It seems to me you are a little too sure of valuing it, " saidMr. Haye, -- "for a young lady who has _not_ that privilege. "

Elizabeth's cheeks burned on the instant, but her eye wassteady, and it looked full on her father while she asked him, "Why, sir?"

"It is not worth while for you to like other people fasterthan they like you?"

"Why not?" -- said Elizabeth, her cheek and eye both deepeningin their fire, but her look as steady and full, -- "Why not? --if it should happen that I am less likeable than they?"

"Pshaw!" said Mr. Haye. 

"If I were to gauge the respect and esteem I give others, bythe respect and esteem they might be able to give me, -- Ishould cut off maybe the best pleasures of my life. "

"Are respect and esteem the best pleasures of your life?" saidRose satirically. 

"I have never known any superior to them, " said Elizabeth. Butshe brought, as she spoke, her eye of fire to bear upon hercousin, who gave way before it and was mum. 

"And what may respect and esteem lead to?" said Mr. Haye. 

"I don't know, " said Elizabeth. "And I don't care -- even toask. "

"Suppose they are not returned?"

"I have supposed that in the first place, " she answered. 

"At that rate you might be over head and ears in your regardfor several people at once, none of whom cared a straw foryou, " said Mr. Haye. 

"When I find _several_, men or women, that deserve the sort ofrespect and esteem I am talking of, " said Elizabeth -- "I amnot talking of a common kind, that you can give common people-- I shall be in a new world!"

"And have you this sort of 'respect and esteem' for Mr. Winthrop Landholm?" said her father. 

"That's another question, " said Elizabeth, for the first timedropping her eye and speaking more quietly; -- "I was talkingof the general principle. "

"And I am asking of the particular instance. Have you thisrespect and esteem for this particular person of youracquaintance?"

"I never gave it to many people in my life, " said Elizabeth, colouring again somewhat. "He has as fair a share of it asmost have. "

"A little more?" said Mr. Haye smiling. 

This time the answer she flashed at him was of proud andindignant bar to any further questioning -- with her eyes only;her lips did not move. 

"Does he know it, Elizabeth?"

"Know what, sir?"

"This favour you have expressed for him. "

"I have expressed nothing but what I would express for any oneto whom I thought it due. "

"But I ask, does he know it?"

"I feel injured, father, by your asking me such questions! -- Ipresume he does not know, since he has not had the honour ofbeing told!"

The air with which this was given was regal. 

"I wouldn't tell him, Lizzie, " said her father quietly. 

But at the insinuation conveyed in these words, Elizabeth'smood took another turn. 

"I will tell whomsoever it may concern to know, at any timewhen I see occasion, " she answered. "It is not a thing to beashamed of; and I will neither do nor think anything I amunwilling to own. "

"You had better reform public opinion in the first place, "said Mr. Haye dryly. 

"Why?" she said with startling quickness. 

"It is apt to hold rather light of young ladies who tell theirminds without being asked. "

"How can you speak so, father! -- I said, _when I saw occasion_ --it seems I have very much misjudged in the present instance. "

"And as that might happen again, " said Mr. Haye, "it is justas safe, on the whole, that the person in question does notcome here any more. I am glad that I have advertised his placefor sale. "

"_What!_" exclaimed Elizabeth and Rose both at once. 

"Hush -- don't fire at a man in that way. His father's place, Ishould say. "

"_What_ have you done to it?" said Elizabeth. 

"Advertised it for sale. You don't hear me as well as you doMr. Satterthwaite, it seems. "

"How come you to have it to sell?"

"Because it was mortgaged to me -- years ago -- and I can't geteither principal or interest; so I am taking the best way Ican to secure my rights. "

"But Mr. Landholm was your friend?"

"Certainly -- but I am a better friend to myself. Can't dobusiness with your friends on different principles from thoseyou go upon with other people, Lizzie. "

Elizabeth looked at him, with eyes that would have annihilateda large portion of Mr. Haye's principles, if they had beensentient things. Rose began a running fire of entreaties that_he_ would have nothing to do with Shahweetah, for that shecould not bear the place. Elizabeth brought her eyes back toher plate, but probably she still saw Mr. Haye there, for theexpression of them did not change. 

"_I'm_ not going to have anything to do with the place, Rose, "said Mr. Haye -- "further than to get it off my hands. I don'twant to live there any more than you do. All I want to do isto pay myself. "

"Father, " said Elizabeth looking up quietly, "_I'll_ buy it ofyou. "

"_You!_" said Mr. Haye, -- while Rose went off into a successionof soft laughs. 

"Do you care who does it, so that you get the money?"

"No, -- but what will you do with it?"

"Find a way, in time, of conveying it back to its rightowners, " said Rose. "Don't you see, Mr. Haye?"

Elizabeth favoured her with a look which effectually spikedthat little gun, for the time, and turned her attention againto her father. 

"Do you care who buys it of you, so that you get the money?"

"Why, no -- but you don't want such a piece of property, Lizzie. "

"I want just such a piece of property. "

"But my child, you can't manage it. It would be an absurdspending of _your_ money. There's a farm of two or three hundredacres -- more, -- besides woodland. What could you do with it?"

"Trust me to take care of my own. May I have it, father?"

"Mr. Haye! --" Rose put in, pouting and whimpering, -- "I wishyou'd tell Lizzie she's not to look at me so! --"

"Will you sell it to me?" pursued Elizabeth. 

"If you'll promise it shall not go back to the original ownersin any such way as Rose hinted. "

"Are those your terms of sale?" said Elizabeth. "Because, though I may not choose to submit myself to them, I can findyou another purchaser. "

"What do you want of a great piece of land like that?"

"Nothing; I want the land itself. "

"You can't do anything with it. "

"It don't signify, if it all grows up to nettles!" saidElizabeth. "Will you take the money of me and let me take theland of you?"

"Hum --" said Mr. Haye, -- "I think you have enlightened me toomuch this morning. No -- I'll find a more disinterestedpurchaser; and let it teach you to take care of your eyes aswell as your tongue. "

Rose bridled. Mr. Haye got up leisurely from the breakfast-table and was proceeding slowly to the door, when his path wascrossed by his daughter. She stood still before him. 

He might well tell her to take care of her eyes. They glowedin their sockets as she confronted him, while her cheek was asblanched as a fire at the heart could leave it. Mr. Haye wasabsolutely startled and stood as still as she. 

"Father, " she said, "take care how you drive me too far! Youhave had some place in my heart, but I warn you it is indanger. -- If you care for it, I warn you! -- "

She was gone, like a flash; and Mr. Haye after casting a sortof scared look behind him at his wife, went off too; probablythinking he had got enough for one morning. 

No doubt Elizabeth felt so for her part. She had gone to herown room, where she put herself on a low seat by the windowand sat with labouring breath and heaving bosom, and the firein her heart and in her eyes glowing still, though she lookednow as if it were more likely to consume herself than anybodyelse. If herself was not present to her thoughts, they werebusy with nothing then present; but the fire burned. 

While she sat there, Clam came in, now one of the smartest ofgay-turbaned handmaidens, and began an elaborate dusting ofthe apartment. She began at the door, and by the time she hadworked round to Elizabeth at the window, she had made by manytimes a more careful survey of her mistress than of any pieceof furniture in the room. Elizabeth's head had drooped; andher eyes were looking, not vacantly, but with no object inview, out of the window. 

"I guess you want my friend here just now, Miss 'Lizabeth, "said Clam, her lips parting just enough to show the line ofwhite between them. 

"Whom do you mean by your friend?"

"O -- Governor Landholm, to be sure -- he used to fix everybodystraight whenever he come home to Wuttle Quttle. "

Elizabeth passed over the implication that she wanted'fixing, ' and asked, "How? --"

"_I_ don' know. He used to put 'em all in order, in less'n notime, " said Clam, going over and over the dressing-table withher duster, as that piece of furniture kept her near hermistress. "Mis' Landholm used to get her face straight theminute his two feet sounded outside the house, and she'd keepit up as long as he stayed; and Winifred stopped to be queerand behaved like a Christian; and nobody else in the househadn't a chance to take airs but himself. "

"What sort of airs did _he_ take?" said Elizabeth. 

"O I don' know, " said Clam; -- "_his_ sort; -- they wa'n't likenobody else's sort. "

"But what do you mean by airs?"

"Can't tell, " said Clam, -- "nothin' like yours, Miss'Lizabeth, -- I take a notion to wish he was here, once in awhile -- it wouldn't do some folks no harm. "

"Didn't his coming put you in order too?"

Clam gave a little toss of her head, infinitely knowing andsatisfied at the same time, and once more and more broadlyshewed the white ivory between her not unpretty parted teeth. 

"I think you want putting in order now, " said her mistress. 

"Always did, " said Clam with a slight arch of her eyebrows, --"always shall. Best get him to manage it, Miss 'Lizabeth -- hecan do it quicker'n anybody else -- for me, -- and I dare say hewould for you. "

"I don't believe you ever were put in order, " said Elizabeth, -- "to stay. "

"I didn't use to do a wrong thing as long as he was in thehouse!" said Clam. "Didn't want to. -- You wouldn't neither, ifyou was in the house with him. "

"What do you mean by Mrs. Landholm's getting her face straightwhen he came? -- was'nt it always so?"

"'Twa'n't always _so_, " said Clam, -- "for when he come, halfthe wrinkles went away, and the grey hairs all turned blackagain. "

There came such a pang to Elizabeth's heart, such a gush toher eyes, that she hid her face on her knees and heard nothingof what her handmaid said for a long time after. If Clamtalked, she had the talk all to herself; and when Elizabeth atlast raised her head, her handmaiden was standing on the otherside of the fireplace looking at her, and probably making upher mind that she wanted 'fixing' very much. There was nofurther discussion of the subject, however; for Miss Hayeimmediately called for her bonnet and veil, wrapped herself ina light scarf and went out. The door had hardly closed uponher when the bell rang again, and she came running up-stairsto her room. 

"Clam, get me the newspaper. "

"What news, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"All the newspapers -- every one you can find; -- yesterday'sand to-day's, or the day before. "

Much wondering, Clam hunted the house and brought the fruitsof her search; and much more wondering, she saw her mistressspend one hour in closely poring over the columns of pageafter page; she who never took five minutes a day to read thepapers. At last a little bit was carefully cut from one ofthose Clam had brought up, and Elizabeth again preparedherself to go forth. 

"If it had been Mr. Winthrop, now, who was doing that, " saidClam, "he'd have took off his hat most likely, and sat down toit. How you do look, Miss 'Lizabeth!"

"Mr. Winthrop and I are two different people, " said Elizabeth, hurriedly putting on the one glove she had drawn off. 

"Must grow a little more like before you'll be one and thesame, " observed Clam. 

Elizabeth let down her veil over her face and went out again. 

With a quick nervous step she went, though the day was warm, making no delay and suffering no interruption; till shereached the University where Professor Herder made his dailyand nightly abode. The professor was attending one of hisclasses. Elizabeth asked to be shewn to his room. 

She felt as if she was on a queer errand, as she followed herconductor up the wide stone stairs and along the broadcorridors, where the marks were evidently of only man's useand habitation, and now and then a man's whistle or footstepechoed from the distance through the halls. But she went onswiftly, from one corridor to another, till the guide opened adoor and she stepped out from the public haunts of life to abit of quite seclusion. 

It was a pleasant enough place that Mr. Herder called home. Alarge, airy, light, high-ceiled apartment, where plainly evento a stranger's eye, the naturalist had grouped and bestowedaround him all the things he best liked to live among. Enormous glass cases, filled with the illustrations ofscience, and not less of the philosopher's investigatingpatience, lined all the room; except where dark-filled shelvesof books ran up between them from the floor to the ceiling. Apleasant cloth-covered table, with books and philosophicalinstruments, stood towards one side of the room, a littletable with a lamp at the other; and scattered about, all over, were big stout comfortable well-worn leather arm-chairs, thatsaid study and learning sat easy there and often receivedvisits of pleasure in that room. Elizabeth felt herself aslittle akin to pleasure as to learning or study, just then. She put herself in one of the great leather chairs, with asense of being out of her element -- a little piece of busy, bustling, practical life, within the very palings of scienceand wisdom. 

She sat and waited. But that pulse of busy life beat never thecooler for all the cool aspect of the place and the graveshade of wisdom that lingered there; nay, it throbbed fasterand more flutteringly. She got up to try the power ofdistraction the glass cases might hold; but her eye rovedrestlessly and carelessly over object and object of interestthat withheld its interest from her; and weariedly she wentback to her arm-chair and covered her face with her hands, that her mind might be at least uninterruptedly busy in itsown way. 

It must have been very busy, or the quick little step of theGerman professor must have been very soft withal; for he hadcome within a few feet of her before he knew who she was orshe knew that he was there. 

"Miss Elisabet'!" he exclaimed with a most good-humoured faceof wonderment, -- "I never was so honoured before! How did youget in my arm-chair?"

Elizabeth jumped up and shook hands with him, laughing in veryrelief to see him come. 

"How did I get here? -- I came up through the sun, Mr. Herder. "

"I have asked you to come in better time, " said thenaturalist, -- "that is, better for you -- dis is very good timefor me. I have nozing to do, and I will give you lesson inwhatever you want. "

"No sir, -- I am come to give _you_ a lesson, Mr. Herder. "

"_Me?_ Well, I will take it, " said the naturalist, who began atthe same time to run about his room and open closet doors andjingle glasses together, apparently on his own business, -- "Ilike always to take lessons, -- it is not often that I havesuch a teacher. I will learn the best I can -- after I have gotyou some lemonade. I have two lemons here, -- somevere, -- ah! -- "

"I don't want it, Mr. Herder. "

"I cannot learn nozing till you have had it, " said Mr. Herderbringing his lemons and glasses to the table; -- "that sun isbeating my head what was beating yours, and it cannot think ofnozing till I have had something to cool him off. --"

Elizabeth sat still, and looked, and thought, with her heartbeating. 

"I did not know what was in my room when I see you in my chairwiz your head down -- you must be study more hard than me, MissElisabet' -- I never put my head down, for nozing. "

"Nor your heart either, I wonder?" thought Elizabeth. 

"I _was_ studying, Mr. Herder, -- pretty hard. "

"Is that what you are going to give me to study?" said thenaturalist. 

"Not exactly -- it was something about it. I want you to dosomething for me, Mr. Herder, -- if I may ask you, -- and if youwill be so very kind as to take some trouble for me. "

"I do not like trouble, " said the naturalist shaking his headgood-humouredly over a squeeze of his lemon; -- "dere is no usein having trouble -- I get out of it so soon as I can -- but Iwill get in it wiz pleasure for you, Miss Elisabet' -- what youtell me -- if you will tell me if that is too much sucker. "

"To take trouble, and to be _in_ trouble, are not quite the samething, Mr. Herder, " said Elizabeth, having at the moment avivid realization of the difference. 

"I thought trouble was trouble, " said the naturalist, finishing the preparing his own glass of lemonade. "If youwill lesson me to find trouble is no trouble -- Miss Elisabet'-- I will thank you much for that. "

Elizabeth heartily wished anybody could teach her thatparticular lesson. She sipped her lemonade, slowly andabstractedly, busy yet with the study which Mr. Herder hadbroken off; while he talked benignly and kindly, to ears thatdid not hear. But the last of Elizabeth's glass was swallowedhastily and the glass set down. 

"Mr. Herder, I have come to ask you to do something for me. "

"I am honoured, Miss Elisabet', " said the philosopher bowing. 

"Will you not speak of it to anybody?"

"Not speak of it!" said the naturalist. "Then it is a secret?"

The quick energetic little bend of Elizabeth's head saidbefore her lips spoke the word, "Yes!"

"It is more honour yet, " he said. "What am I to do, MissElisabet'?"

"Nothing, if it will be any real trouble to you, Mr. Herder. Promise me that first. "

"Promise? -- what shall I promise?" said Mr. Herder. 

"Promise me that if what I am going to ask would be any realtrouble to you or to your business, you will tell me so. "

"I do not love to be troubled, " said the naturalist. "It shallnot be no trouble to me. "

"But promise me that you will tell me, Mr. Herder. "

"Suppose you was to tell me first. I cannot tell nozing till Iknow. "

"You will not speak of it to anybody, Mr. Herder?"

"I will not speak of nozing, Miss Elisabet'. "

"Mr. Herder, there is a piece of land which I want to buy; andI have come to ask you, if you can, and if you will, to buy itfor me. "

"Miss Elisabet', " said the naturalist looking a littlesurprised at his fair questioner, -- "I will tell you the truth-- I have no money. "

"I have, Mr. Herder. But I cannot go into the market and buyfor myself. "

"Cer-tain-ly, you cannot do that, " said Mr. Herder. "But whatis it you wish to buy?"

"It is a farm, --" said Elizabeth, feeling glad that her backwas to the light; -- "it is a piece of land in the country -- upon the Shatemuc river. I think you have been there, Mr. Herder, -- it is the place where the Landholms' father lives. Wut-a-qut-o, they call it -- or Shahweetah; -- Wut-a-qut-o isthe mountain opposite. "

"Landholm!" cried the naturalist. "Is it Winthrop's place?"

Elizabeth bowed her head and answered, "His father's. "

"Winthrop's place! Is _that_ what you want, Miss Elisabet'?"

Elizabeth bowed her head again, this time without answering. 

"Suppose they might not want to sell it?" said the naturalist. 

"They do not -- but they can't help themselves. It must be sold-- they can't pay money that is owing upon it. "

"Money!" -- said the naturalist; -- "that is de trouble of allthat is in the world. I wish there was no such thing as money!It makes all the mischief. "

"Or the want of it, " said Elizabeth. 

"No!" said the naturalist, -- "it is not that! I have wantmoney all my life, Miss Elisabet', and I have never got intono trouble at all. "

"Except when you fought the duels, Mr. Herder. "

"_Dat_ was not no trouble!" said the philosopher. "There wasnozing about money there; and it was not no trouble, -- neizerbefore, neizer after. "

"I have had money all my life; and it never made me anytrouble. "

"Ah, you have not come to the time, " said Mr. Herder. "Wait, you will find it. Now you are in trouble because you want tobuy this ground, and you could not do it wizout money. "

"I can't do it with, unless you will help me, Mr. Herder -- youor somebody. "

"I could get somebody, " said Mr. Herder; -- "I know somebodywhat I could get. "

"I don't know anybody who would be as good as you, sir. "

"I do, " said the naturalist. "Where is Mr. Haye? -- is hesick?"

"No sir, -- I don't wish him to know anything about it, Mr. Herder. -- He is the person making the sale. "

"Your father? -- do you mean that Mr. Haye is the man what isselling the ground of Mr. Landholm?"

"Yes sir. And I wish to buy it. "

"Then Miss Elisabet', what for do you not ask my friendWinthrop to buy it for you? He knows all business. He will doit. "

"I cannot -- I have not the liberty -- He is not enough a friendof mine, for me to ask him such a favour. "

"But Miss Elisabet', what will you do wiz all that largeground and water?"

"Buy it, -- first, sir; and then I will see. I want it. "

"I see you do, " said the naturalist. "Well, then I shall getit for you -- if I can -- I hope your money will not get _me_ introuble. "

"If you are at all afraid of that, Mr. Herder, I will findsome other way --"

"I never was afraid of nozing in my life, Miss Elisabet' --only I do not know neizer how to get money, neizer how tospend it -- in this way. What will Mr. Haye say to me when I goto buy all this great land of him? He will say --"

"You're not to buy it of him, Mr. Herder. "

"No?" said the naturalist. "Of who, then? I thought you saidhe was going to sell it. "

"Yes, he is -- but he has somebody else to do it for him. Here, Mr. Herder, -- here is the advertisement; -- see -- don't readthe first part, -- all _that_ has nothing to do with it, -- hereis the place. 'At the Merchant's Exchange, in the city ofMannahatta, on the first day of September, 1821, at 12 o'clocknoon of that day' -- and then comes the description of theplace. It is to be sold at public auction. "

"Auc-sion? --" said the naturalist. 

"It's to be sold in public, to whoever offers to give most forit. "

"O, I know that, " said Mr. Herder. 

"And dear Mr. Herder, all I ask of you is to be there, at 12o'clock the first of September, and buy it for me; and letnobody know. Can you do it?"

"I can do so much, " said the naturalist. "I think I can. Butsuppose somebody will give more than you. "

"Do not suppose that, sir. I will give more than anybody. "

"Are you sure you will?" said the naturalist. "Maybe you donot know. "

"I do know, sir, and am sure. "

"Well, " said the naturalist, shaking his head, -- "I do notknow much about buying grounds -- I do know a leetle of somethings -- but I do not know what sort of a lesson is this, MissElisabet'. But I will see if I can do it. Who is going to liveup there wiz you?"

"Don't you suppose I can live alone, Mr. Herder. "

"No, not there, " said the naturalist. "You want some one totake care of you -- de engineer, Miss Elisabet', " said hesmiling. 

Elizabeth made no answer; she had risen up to go; and heguided her through the halls and down the staircases, till shewas in the open street again. Then, after a farewell squeezeof his hand and nod of her little head, she pulled her veildown and went homeward, more slowly than she had come. 

"_Do_ I want somebody to take care of me?" she thought. "Ibelieve I do! An engineer? -- I do not think the engine _is_under very good guidance -- it _is_ too strong for me -- How couldhe know that? Oh what earthly thing would I give, for a handwise and strong enough to lead me, and good enough that Icould submit myself to!"

The wish was so deep drawn that her breast heaved with it, andstarting tears made her draw her veil thicker before them. Shebit her lip, and once more quickened her steps towards home. 

CHAPTER III. 

Then think I of deep shadows on the grass, --Of meadows where in sun the cattle graze, Where, as the breezes pass, The gleaming rushes lean a thousand ways, --Of leaves that slumber in a cloudy mass, Or whiten in the wind, -- of waters blueThat from the distance sparkle throughSome woodland gap, -- and of a sky above, Where one white cloud like a stray lamb doth move. LOWELL. 

Finding that the old farm must pass out of his hands, Mr. Landholm made up his mind not to spend another summer oflabour and of life upon it; but at once with his son Asahel tomove off to the West. He stayed but to reap the standing cropsof winter grain, dispose of stock, and gather up all the looseends of business; and left the hills of the Shatemuc, to seekbetter fortunes on a Western level. 

They passed through Mannahatta on their way, that they mighthave a short sight of Winthrop and Winifred and say good-byeto them. It was not so joyful a visit that anybody wished itto be a long one. 

"It's pretty hard, " said the farmer, "to start life anew againat my time of day; -- but these arms are not worn out yet; Iguess they'll do something -- more or less -- on a new field. "

"Asahel's got strong arms, father, " said Winifred, who wasfain to put in a word of comfort when she could. 

"Ay, and a strong heart too, " said his father. "He's a finefellow. He'll do, I guess, in the long run, -- at the West orsomewhere; and at the West _if_ anywhere, they say. I'm notconcerned much about him. "

"There's no need, I think, " said Winthrop. 

"Where's Will? -- and what's he doing?"

"Will has just set off for Charleston -- on some agencybusiness. "

"Charleston in South Carolina?"

"Yes. "

"Then he is not engineering now?"

"No. "

"How long does he expect to be gone?"

"Some months -- more or less; -- I don't know. "

"Is it a good business for him?"

"He has chosen it, -- not I. "

"I would sooner trust your choice, " said the father. "There'sone thing Rufus wants; and that is, judgment. "

"He'll do yet, " said Winthrop. "And I shall not leave you longat the West, father. You will come when I send for you?"

"No, my boy, " said the farmer looking gratified; -- "I'll liveby my own hands as long as I have hands to live by; and as Isaid, mine haven't given out yet! No -- if the Lord prospersus, we'll have a visit from you and Winnie out there, I expect-- by and by, when we get things in order; -- you and Winnie, and anybody else you've a mind to bring along!"

It was spoken heartily, but with a tear in the eye; and nobodyanswered; unless it were answer, the long breath which Winniedrew at the very idea of such a visit. 

Winthrop heard it; but through the long weeks of summer hecould give her nothing more of country refreshment than theold walks on the Green and an occasional ride or walk on theopposite shore of one or the other of the rivers that borderedthe city. Business held him fast, with a grip that he must notloosen; though he saw and knew that his little sister's facegrew daily more thin and pale, and that her slight frame wasslighter and slighter. His arm had less and less to do, eventhough her need called for more. He felt as if she wasslipping away from him. August came. 

"Winnie, " said he one evening, when he came home and found herlying on her couch as usual, -- "how would you like to go upand pay Karen a visit?"

"Karen?" -- said Winnie, -- "where?"

"At home. -- At Wut-a-qut-o. "

"Wut-a-qut-o!" said Winnie; -- "is Karen there? I thoughtShahweetah was sold. "

"It isn't sold yet -- it won't be till September -- and Karen isthere yet, keeping house with her brother Anderese. "

"Anderese! -- is old Anderese there?" said Winnie. "O I shouldlike to go, Governor!" she said raising herself on her elbow. "Can we?"

"Yes, if you like. Hildebrand Cowslip is down here with hisfather's sloop -- how would you like to go up in her?"

"In the sloop? -- O how good!" said Winnie bringing her thinhands together. "Can we? But dear Governor, you can't beaway?"

"Yes -- just as well as not. There isn't much doing in August --everybody takes a resting time; and so you and I will, Winnie, " said he, bending down to kiss her. 

Winnie looked up at him gratefully and lovingly with herwistful large eyes, the more expressive from the setting ofillness and weakness in the face. 

"I'd like you to have a rest, dear Governor. "

He stood stroking back the ringlets from the thin blue-veinedtemple. 

"Wouldn't it do you good to see Wut-a-qut-o again?"

"O I am sure it would! -- And you too, wouldn't it?"

"I am good enough already, " said Winthrop looking down at her. 

"Too good, " said Winnie looking up at him. "I guess you wantpulling down!"

She had learned to read his face so well, that it was with apang she saw the look with which he turned off to his work. Astranger could not have seen in it possibly anything but hiscommon grave look; to Winnie there was the slight shadow ofsomething which seemed to say the "pulling down" had not to bewaited for. So slight that she could hardly tell it was there, yet so shadowy she was sure it had come from something. It wasnot in the look merely -- it was in the air, -- it was, she didnot know what, but she felt it and it made her miserable. Shecould not see it after the first minute; his face andshoulders, as he sat reading his papers, had their usual calmstability; Winnie lay looking at him, outwardly calm too, butmentally tossing and turning. 

She could not bear it. She crawled off her couch and came andsat down at his feet, throwing her arms around his knee andlooking up at him. 

"Dear Governor! -- I wish you had whatever would do you good!"

"The skill of decyphering would do me a little good just now, "said her brother. She could detect nothing peculiar in look orword, though Winnie's eyes did their best. 

"But somehow I don't feel as if you had, " she went on to say. 

"Where is your faith?" -- he said quietly, as he made a note inthe margin of the paper he was reading. Winnie could makenothing of him. 

"Governor, when shall we go?"

"Hildebrand moves his sloop off to-morrow afternoon. "

"And shall we go to-morrow?"

"If you don't object. "

Winnie left the floor, clapping her hands together, and wentback to her couch to think over at large the variouspreparations which she must make. Which pleasant business heldher all the evening. 

They were not large preparations, however; longer to think ofthan to do; especially as Winthrop took upon himself the mostof what was done. One or two nick-nackeries of preparation, inthe shape of a new basket, a new book, and a new shawl, seemeddelightful to Winnie; though she did not immediately see whatshe might want of the latter in August. 

"We shall find it cooler when we get under the shadow of Wut-a-qut-o, Winnie, " said her brother; and Winnie was only tooglad of a pretext to take the pretty warm wrapper of grey andblue worsted along. 

She did not want it when they set out, the next afternoon. Itwas very warm in the streets, very warm on the quays; and evenwhen the sloop pushed her way slowly out and left the quays ather back, there was little air stirring and the August sunbeat down steadily on river and shore. 

"This don't look much like gettin' up to Cowslip's Mill _this_night, " said the skipper. "Ain't it powerful!"

"The wind is coming off from the South, " said Winthrop. 

"Yes, I felt some little puffs on my cheek, " said Winnie. 

"Glad to hear it, " said the sloop master, a tall, bony, ill-set-together specimen of a shore and water man; -- "there ain'tenough now to send an egg-shell along, and I'd like to shewyou a good run, Mr. Landholm, since you're goin' along withme. She looks smart, don't she?"

"If she'll only work as well, " said Winthrop. "Hild', youhaven't got much cargo aboard. "

"Only as much as'll keep her steady, " answered the skipper. "'Seems to me nobody ain't a wantin' nothin' up our ways. Iguess you're the heaviest article on board, Winthrop; -- shenever carried a lawyer before. "

"Are lawyers heavy articles?" said Winnie laughing. 

"'Cordin' to what I've heern, I should say they be; ain'tthey, squire? -- considerable, -- especially when they get onfolks's hands. I hope you're a better sort, Winthrop, -- orain't there much choice in 'em?"

"You shall try me when you get into trouble, " said Winthrop. 

"Is this Mr. Cowslip's old sloop?" said Winnie. 

"She don't look old, does she?" inquired Mr. Hildebrand. 

"But I mean, is it the same he used to have? -- No, she looksvery handsome indeed. "

"She's the old one though, " said the skipper, "the same oldJulia Ann. What's the use o' askin' ladies' ages? -- she's justas good as when she was young; and better dressed. I've hadthe cabin fixed up for you, Mr. Landholm, -- I guess it'll bepretty comfortable in there. "

"It's a great deal pleasanter here, " said Winnie. "There comesthe wind! -- that was a puff! --"

"Well we're ready for it, " said the skipper. 

And stronger puffs came after, and soon a steady fairsoutherly breeze set up the river and sent the Julia Ann onbefore it. Straight up the river their course lay, withoutveering a point for miles. The sun was lowering towards thehorizon and the heat was lessening momently, even without thesouth breeze which bade it be forgotten; and the blue watersof the river, so sluggish a little while ago, were brisklycurling and rippling, and heading like themselves for Wut-a-qut-o. 

Winnie sat still and silent in the shadow of the huge sail. Winthrop was standing close beside her, talking with theskipper; but he knew that his little sister had hold of hishand and had laid her unbonneted head against his arm; andwhen the skipper left him he stooped down to her. 

"What do you think of it, Winnie?"

"O Winthrop! -- how delicious! -- Aren't you glad it is suchbeautiful world?"

"What are you thinking of in particular?"

"O everything. It isn't down here like Wut-a-qut-o, buteverything is so delicious -- the water and the shore and thesunshine and the wind! --"

"Poor Winnie, " said her brother stroking her hair, -- "youhaven't seen it in a good while. "

She looked up at him, a glance which touchingly told him thatwhere he was she wanted nothing; and then turned her eyesagain towards the river. 

"I was thinking, Governor, that maybe I shall never go up hereagain. "

"Well Winnie? --"

"I am very glad I can go this time. I am so much obliged toyou for bringing me. "

"Obliged to me, Winnie!"

He had placed himself behind his little sister, with one handholding her lightly by each shoulder; and calm as his tonewas, perhaps there came a sudden thought of words that he knewvery well --

"There fairer flowers than Eden's bloom, "Nor sin nor sorrow know;"Blest seats! through rude and stormy seas"I onward press to you. " --

For he was silent, though his face wore no more than itsordinary gravity. 

"Governor, " said Winnie half turning her head round to him, "Iwish these people were not all round here within hearing, sothat we could sing. -- I feel just like it. "

"By and by, Winnie, I dare say we can. "

"How soon do you think we shall get to Wut-a-qut-o. "

"Before morning, if the wind holds. "

The wind held fair and rather strengthened than lost, as theevening went on. Under fine headway the Julia Ann swept up theriver, past promontory and bay, nearing and nearing her goal. Do her best, however, the Julia Ann could not bring them thatnight to any better sleeping advantages than her own littlecabin afforded; and for those Winthrop and Winnie were in nohurry to leave the deck. After the skipper's hospitality hadbeen doubtfully enjoyed at supper, and after they hadrefreshed themselves with seeing the sun set and watching themany-coloured clouds he left behind him, the moon rose in theother quarter and threw her 'silver light' across the deck, just as duskiness was beginning to steal on. The duskinesswent on and shrouded the hills and the distant reaches of theriver in soft gloom; but on board the Julia Ann, on her whitesails and deck floor where the brother and sister weresitting, and on a broad pathway of water between them and themoon, her silver light threw itself with brightening andbroadening power. By and by Mr. Hildebrand's two or threehelpers disposed of themselves below deck, and nobody was leftbut Mr. Hildebrand himself at the helm. 

"Now we can sing!" exclaimed Winnie, when one or two turns ofher head had made her sure of this; and to Winthrop's surpriseshe struck up the very words part of which had been in his ownremembrance. 

"'Jerusalem! my happy home --"'Name ever dear to me --"'When shall my labours have an end, "' In joy and peace in thee!"'

Winnie's voice was as sweet and clear as a bird's, if weaknessleft it not much stronger; that of her brother was deep, mellow, and exceeding fine; it was no wonder that the skipperturned his head and forgot his tiller to catch the fulness ofevery note. When the last had sounded, there was nothing to beheard but the rippling of water under the sloop's prow; thesails were steady and full, the moonlight not more noiseless;the wind swept on with them softly, just giving a silentbreath to their cheeks; the skipper held his tiller with amoveless hand. 

"What next, Winnie?" her brother whispered. The soft gurgle ofthe water had been heard for several minutes. 

"How fond Karen is of that hymn, " said Winifred. "Governor, doyou think I shall live long in this world?"

She was leaning, half lying, upon Winthrop, with his arm roundher. Her voice had put the question in precisely the same tonethat it had given the remark. 

"Why do you ask me that, Winnie?"

"Because -- sometimes I think I sha'n't, -- and I want to knowwhat you think. "

"You will live, I am sure, dear Winnie, till God has done foryou all he means to do; -- till he has fitted his child forheaven; -- and then he will take her. "

"I know that, " said Winifred with a grateful half look up athim; -- "but I mean -- you know I am not well quite, and weak, and I don't think I get any better; -- don't you think that itwon't take a very great while, very likely?"

"How would you feel, Winnie, if you thought that was so?"

"I _do_ think it sometimes -- pretty often, " -- said Winnie, "andit don't make me feel sorry, Governor. "

"You think heaven is better than earth. "

"Yes, --and then -- that's one good thing of my sickness -- itdon't seem as if I ever could do much if I lived, so itmatters the less. "

"Nobody knows how much he does, who does his duty, " saidWinthrop. 

"Why I can't do anything at all!" said Winnie. 

"Every talent that isn't buried brings something into thetreasury, " said Winthrop. 

"Yes -- that's pleasant, " said Winnie; -- "but I don't know whatmine is. "

"The good that people do unconsciously is often more than thatthey intend. "

"Unconsciously! -- But then they don't know whether they do itor not?"

"It don't hurt them, not to know, " said her brother smiling. 

"But what sort of good-doing is that, Winthrop?"

"It only happens in the case of those persons whose eye isvery single; -- with their eye full of the light they arereflecting, they cannot see the reflection. But it is said ofthose that 'their works do follow them. '"

Winnie was tearfully silent, thinking of the ingathering ofjoy there would be for one that she knew; and if Winthrop'sarm was drawn a little closer round her little figure, perhapsit was with a like thought for her. How bright the moonlightshone!

"That's pleasant to think, Governor, -- both parts of it, " saidWinifred softly, beating his hand slightly with one of herown. He was silent. 

"Now won't you sing something else? -- for I'm tired, " shesaid, nestling her head more heavily on his breast. 

And he sang again. --

"'Vain are all terrestrial pleasures, "' Mixed with dross the purest gold;"'Seek we then for heavenly treasures, "'Treasures never growing old. "'Let our best affections centre"'On the things around the throne;"'There no thief can ever enter, --"'Moth and rust are there unknown. 

"'Earthly joys no longer please us, "'Here would we renounce them all, "'Seek our only rest in Jesus, "'Him our Lord and Master call. "'Faith, our languid spirits cheering, "'Points to brighter worlds above;"'Bids us look for his appearing, "'Bids us triumph in his love. 

"'Let our lights be always burning, "'And our loins be girded round, "'Waiting for our Lord's returning, "'Longing for the joyful sound. "'Thus the christian life adorning, "'Never need we be afraid, "'Should he come at night or morning, "'Early dawn, or evening shade. "'

The air was slow, tender, and plaintive, and borne by the deepvoice over all the breadth of the moon-lit river. Winnie'sbreath was fuller drawn; the skipper held his, and forgot hishelm; and in every pause of the song, the sweet interlude wasplayed by the water under the sloop's prow. 

"Governor --" said Winnie, when the bubbling water had beenlistened to alone for a while. 

"What?"

"Do you think those words are quite true?"

"Those words of the hymn?"

"Yes -- some of them. I think you like that hymn better than Ido. 'Earthly joys no longer please us'; -- do you think that isright? -- They please me. "

"It is only by comparison that they can be true, Winnie, certainly; -- except in the case of those persons whose powerof enjoyment is by some reason or other taken away. "

"But you like that hymn very much?"

"Yes. Don't you?"

"I like part of it very much, and I like the tune; but I liketo be able to say all the words of a hymn. How sweet that was!-- Governor, don't you think it would be pleasant to stay hereall night?"

"Singing?"

"No -- but talking, and sleeping. "

"I am afraid it would sadly hinder to-morrow's talk, andoblige you to sleep instead. "

"Then I'll go right away. Do you think we shall be at Wut-a-qut-o in the morning?"

"If the wind holds. "

By Winthrop's care and management the little cabin was madenot absolutely uncomfortable, and Winnie's bed was laid on thefloor between door and window so that she could sleep withoutbeing smothered. He himself mounted guard outside, andsleeping or waking kept the deck for the whole night. 

"Governor, " said Winnie cautiously putting her head out at thedoor, just as the summer dawn was growing into day, --"Governor! -- are we there?"

"We are _here_. "

"Where?"

"Lying at Cowslip's Mill. "

"Oh! --"

The rest of Winnie's joyous thought was worked into her shoesand dress and bonnet-strings, and put away in her bag with hernight-cap. How fast it was all done! and she pushed open hercabin door and stood on the deck with Winthrop. 

Yes -- there was the green wooded shore -- how fresh to hereyes! -- There was Mr. Cowslip's brown old house and mill;there was the old stage road; and turning, there two miles offlay Shahweetah, and there rose up Wut-a-qut-o's green head. And with a sob, Winnie hid her face in Winthrop's arms. Butthen in another minute she raised it again, and clearing awaythe mute witnesses of joy and sorrow, though it was no use forthey gathered again, she looked steadily. The river lay at herfeet and stretched away off up to Shahweetah, its soft graysurface unbroken by a ripple or an eddy, smooth and bright andstill. Diver's Rock stood out in its old rough outline, tillit cut off the west end of Shahweetah and seemed to shut upthe channel of the river. A little tiny thread of a north windcame down to them from Home, over the river, with sweetpromise. And as they looked, the morning light was catchingWut-a-qut-o's grave head, and then hill-top after hill-top, and ridge after ridge of the high mountain land, till all ofthem were alight with the day's warm hues, while all beneathslept yet in the greys of the dawn. The brother and sisterstood side by side, perfectly silent; only Winnie's tears ran, sometimes with such a gush that it brought her head down, andsobs that could be heard came to Winthrop's ears. They stoodtill they were hailed by the old miller. 

"Ha! Winthrop -- glad to see ye! how do you do? Haven't seenyour face this great while. Winnie? is it? -- Glad to see ye!She's growed a bit. Come right along into the house -- we'llhave something for breakfast by and by, I expect. I didn'tknow you was here till five minutes ago -- I was late outmyself -- ain't as spry as I used to be; -- Come!" --

"Oh Governor, let's go straight home!" said Winnie. 

"There's time enough yet, Mr. Cowslip, for your purposes. Whato'clock do you suppose it is?"

"Well, I s'pose it's somewhere goin' on to six, ain't it?"

"It has left five. We can breakfast with Karen yet, Winnie. "

"Oh do, Governor!"

"If you'll give us a boat instead of a breakfast, Mr. Cowslip, we will thank you just as much, and maybe take yourhospitality another time. "

"But won't you stop and take just a mouthful first? you'dbetter. "

"No thank you. We shall have to take it up there; and twobreakfasts a day don't agree with me. "

With some sorrow on Mr. Cowslip's part, this was submitted to. The boat was got out; Hildebrand dropped into it and took theoars, "guessing he wouldn't mind going himself;" and Winthropand Winnie sat close together in the stern. Not to steer; forHildebrand was much too accustomed an oarsman to need any suchhelp in coasting the river for miles up and down. 

CHAPTER IV. 

Away, away, from men and towns, To the wild wood and the downs --To the silent wildernessWhere the soul need not repressIts music, lest it should not findAn echo in another's mind. SHELLEY. 

Winnie drew a breath of gratification, as the oars began todimple the still water and the little boat rounded out frombehind the wharf and headed up the river; the very same way bywhich Winthrop had taken Mr. Haye's two young ladies once longbefore. The tide was just at the turn, and Hildebrand made astraight run for the rocks. 

"How pleasant it is to hear the oars again!" Winnie said. Winthrop said nothing. 

Swiftly they pulled up, dappling the smooth grey water withfalling drops from the oar-blades, and leaving behind them twolines of spreading wavelets that tracked the boat's way. Cowslip's Mill fell into the distance, and all that shore, asthey pulled out into the middle of the river; then they drewnear the old granite ridge of Diver's Rock on the other side. The sun had got so low down as that now, and the light ofyears ago was on the same grey bluffs and patches of wood. Itwas just like years ago; the trees stood where they did, ay, and the sunlight; the same shadows fell; and the river washedthe broken foot of the point with, it might be, the very samelittle waves and eddies. And there, a mile further on, Wut-a-qut-o's high green side rose up from the water. Winnie hadtaken off her bonnet and sat with her head resting uponWinthrop's side or arm, her common position whenever she couldget it. And she sat and looked, first at one thing and then atanother, with quiet tears running and some times streamingdown her face. Then the boat struck off from Diver's Rock andpushed straight over for the rocks of Shahweetah. As it nearedthem, the dear old trees stood forth more plainly to view, each one for itself; and the wonted footholds, on turf andstone, could be told and could be seen, apart one from theother. Poor Winnie could not look at them then, but she puther head down and sobbed her greeting to them all. 

"Winnie, " -- said Winthrop softly, and she felt his arm closerdrawn around her, -- "you must not do that. "

It mattered little what Winthrop asked Winnie to do; she neverfailed to obey him. She stopped crying now, and in anothermoment was smiling to him her delight, through the drops thatheld their place yet in her eyes and on her cheeks. 

The little boat was shoved in to the usual place among therocks and the passengers got out. 

"What's the fare, Hild'? -- sloop and all?"

The skipper stood on the rocks and looked into the water. 

"Will you let me come to you to clear me out, the first time Iget into trouble?"

"Yes. "

"Then we're square!" he said, preparing to jump back into hisboat. 

"_Then_ hasn't come, " said Winthrop; "let's keep things squareas we go along. "

"All right, " said the skipper. "Couldn't take nothin' from youthe first time, Governor. "

And Hildebrand after giving Winthrop's hand a shake, intowhich there went a sort of grateful respect which he wouldnever have yielded to one who had laid any manner of claim toit, dropped into his seat again and pushed off. Winthrop andWinnie turned their steps slowly towards the house. 

Very slowly; for each step now was what they had come for. Howuntravelled the road was!

"How it looks as if we didn't live here, Governor, " Winniesaid with half a sigh. 

"Old Karen and Anderese don't come this way very often, "replied her brother. 

"Governor, I am very sorry it has got to be sold!"

They walked a few more steps up the rocky path in silence. 

"O Governor, look at that great limb of that cedar tree -- alldragging! What a pity. "

"Broken by the wind, " said Winthrop. 

"How beautifully the ivy hangs from that cedar -- just as itdid. Dear Governor, won't you get a saw while you're here, andtake off the branch and make it look nice again? -- as nice asit can; -- and there's the top of that little white pine!" --

"Winter-killed, " said Winthrop. 

"Won't you put it in order, as you used to do, this one timemore?"

"If I can get a saw, I will, Winnie, -- or a hatchet. "

"I'm sorry we can't do it but this one time more, " saidWinnie, with a second and a better defined sigh, as theyreached the house level. "O how funny it looks, Governor! howthe grass has run up! and how brown it is! But the cedarsdon't change, do they?"

"It is August, Winnie, " was all Winthrop's remark. 

The front of the house was shut up; they went round. OldAnderese was cutting wood at the back of the house; butwithout stopping to enlighten him, Winthrop passed on and ledWinnie into the kitchen. There the kitchen fire was burning asof yore, and on the hearth before it stood Karen, stoopingdown to oversee her cooking breakfast. At Winthrop's voice shestarted and turned. She looked at them; and then came a longand prolonged "Oh! --" of most mingled and varied tone andexpression; hands and eyes keeping it company. 

"Karen, we have come to see you. "

In perfect silence she shook the hand of each, and then satdown and threw her apron over her face. Winnie stood still andsobbed; Winthrop walked off. 

"Oh, dear, " said the old woman presently rising and coming upto Winnie, -- "what's made ye come to see me again? What didyou come for, dear?"

The tone was wondering and caressing, and rejoicing, all in abreath. Winnie dried her eyes and answered as well as shecould. 

"Why we wanted to see the old place again, Karen, and to seeyou; and Governor thought it would do me good to be in thecountry a little while; and he couldn't come before, and so wehave come up now to stay a few days. And we've brought thingsto eat, so you needn't be troubled about that. "

"Ye needn't, " said old Karen. "Anderese and me'd findsomething for you to eat, in all the wide country -- do yethink we wouldn't? And how are you, dear, " said she scanningWinnie's pale face; -- "are ye ever yet any stronger?"

Winnie shook her head smiling and answered, "Not much. "

"I see ye ain't. Well -- ye're the Lord's child. He'll do whathe will with his own. Where did ye come from, dear?"

"Up from Mr. Cowslip's mill, " said Winnie. "We came in hissloop last night. "

"The sloop!" said Karen. "Why then ye haven't had anything toeat! -- and what was I thinking of! Sit down, dear -- take yourown chair, till I get the other room fit for ye; and you shallhave breakfast jus' so soon I can make it. Where's theGovernor gone to?"

He came in; and Karen's face grew bright at the sight of him. All the while she was getting the breakfast he stood talkingwith her; and all the while, her old face kept the broad gleamof delight that had come into it with his entering thekitchen. With what zeal that breakfast was cooked for him;with what pleasure it was served. And while they were eatingit, Karen sat in the chimney corner and looked at them, andtalked. 

"And isn't the place sold then, Governor?"

"Not yet, Karen -- in a few weeks it will be. "

"And who's goin' to buy it?"

"I don't know. "

"And ye ain't goin' fur to buy it yourself?"

"No Karen -- I am not rich enough to keep a country house. "

"You had ought to have it, " said Karen. "It don't belong tonobody else but you. And you don't know who's a goin' to haveit, Governor?"

"I don't know. "

"'Tain't likely they'll let the old woman stay in her corner, whoever they'll be, " said Karen. "Well -- 'tain't fur now tothe end, -- and then I'll get a better place where they won'tturn me out. I wish I was there, Governor. "

"'There' will be better at the end of your way, Karen, thanat any other time. "

"Ay -- O I know it, dear; but I get so impatient, days, -- Iwant to be gone. It's better waiting. "

"Perhaps you'll have something yet to do for us, Karen, " saidWinnie. 

"Ye're too fur off, " said the old woman. "Karen's done all shecan for ye when she's took care of ye this time. But I'll findwhat I have to do -- and I'll do it -- and then I'll go!" -- shesaid, with a curious modulation of the tones of her voice thatcame near some of the Methodist airs in which she delighted. "Governor'll take care o' you, Winnie; and the Lord'll takecare o' him!"

Both brother and sister smiled a little at Karen's arrangementof things; but neither contradicted her. 

"And how do you manage here, Karen, all alone? -- do you keepcomfortable?"

"I'm comfortable, Mr. Winthrop, " she said with half a smile; --"I have lived comfortable all my life. I seem to see Mis'Landholm round now, times, jus' like she used to be; and Iknow we'll be soon all together again. I think o' that whenI'm dreary. "

She was a singular old figure, as she sat in the corner therewith her head a little on one side, leaning her cheek on herfinger, and with the quick change of energetic life andsubdued patience in her manner. 

"Don't get any dinner for us, Karen, " said Winthrop as theyrose from table. "We have enough for dinner in our basket. "

"Ye must take it back again to Mannahatta, " said Karen. "Ye'rdinner'll be ready -- roast chickens and new potatoes andhuckleberry pie -- the chickens are just fat, and ye never seenicer potatoes this time o' year; and Anderese don't pick veryfast, but he'll have huckleberries enough home for you to eatall the ways ye like. And milk I know ye like'm with, Governor. "

"Give me the basket then, Karen, and I'll furnish thehuckleberries. "

"He'll do it -- Anderese'll get 'em, Mr. Winthrop, -- not you. "

"Give me the basket! -- I would rather do it, Karen. Anderesehas got to dig the potatoes. "

"O yes, and we'll go out and spend the morning in the woods, won't we, Governor?" said his sister. 

The basket and Winnie were ready together and the brother andsister struck off into the woods to the north of the house. They had to cross but a little piece of level ground andsunshine and they were under the shade of the evergreens whichskirted all the home valley. The ground as soon became unevenand rocky, broken into little heights and hollows, and strewnall over with a bedding of stones, large and small; exceptwhere narrow foot-tracks or cowpaths wound along the mimicravines or gently climbed the hilly ridges. Among these stonesand sharing the soil with them, uprose the cedars, pines, hemlocks, and a pretty intermingling of deciduous trees; notof very tall or vigorous growth, for the land favoured themnot, but elegant and picturesque in varied and sweet degree. That it pleased those eyes to which it had been long familiar, and long strange, was in no measure. 

Leaving the beaten paths, the brother and sister turned to theright of the first little ravine they had entered, just wherea large boulder crowned with a tuft of ferns marked the spot, and toiled up a very rough and steep rising. Winthrop's helpwas needed here to enable Winnie to keep footing at all, muchmore to make her way to the top. There were steep descents ofground, spread with dead pine leaves, a pretty red-browncarpeting most dainty to the eyes but very unsure to the foot;-- there were sharp turns in the rocky way, with huge graniticobstacles before and around them; -- Winnie could not keep onher feet without Winthrop's strong arm; although in many arough pitch and steep rise of the way, young hickories andoaks lent their aid to her hand that was free. Mosses andlichens, brown and black with the summer's heat, clothed therocks and dressed out their barrenness; green tufts of fernnodded in many a nook, and kept their greenness still; andhuckleberry bushes were on every hand, in every spare place, and standing full of the unreaped black and blue harvest. Andin the very path, under their feet, sprang many an unassuminglittle green plant, that in the Spring had lifted its head inglorious beauty with some delicate crown of a flower. Astranger would have made nothing of them; but Winnie andWinthrop knew them all, crowned or uncrowned. 

"It's pretty hard getting up here, Governor -- I guess Ihaven't grown strong since I was here last; and these oldyellow pines are so rotten I am afraid to take hold ofanything -- but your hand. It's good you are sure-footed. Olook at the Solomon's Seal -- don't you wish it was in flower!"

"If it was, we shouldn't have any huckleberries, " said herbrother. 

"There's a fine parcel of them, isn't there, Winthrop? O let'sstop and pick these -- there are nice ones -- and let me rest. "

Winnie sat down to breathe, with her arm round the trunk of apine tree, drinking in everything with her eyes, while thatcluster of bushes was stripped of its most promising berries;and then a few steps more brought Winthrop and Winnie to thetop of the height. 

Greater barrenness of soil, or greater exposure to storms, orboth causes together, had left this hill-top comparativelybare; and a few cedars that had lived and died there had beencut away by the axe, for firewood; making a still furtherclearance. But the shallow soil everywhere supported acovering of short grass or more luxuriant mosses; and enoughcedars yet made good their hold of life and standing, toovershadow pretty well the whole ground; leaving the eyeunchecked in its upward or downward rovings. The height wasabout two hundred feet above the level of the river, andseemed to stand in mid-channel, Shahweetah thrusting itselfout between the north and southerly courses of the stream, andobliging it to bend for a little space at a sharp angle to theWest. The north and south reaches, and the bend were allcommanded by the height, together with the whole western shoreand southern and south-eastern hills. To the northwest wasWut-a-qut-o, seen almost from the water's edge to the top; butthe out-jutting woods of Shahweetah impinged upon themountain's base, and cut the line of the river there to theeye. But north there was no obstruction. The low foreground ofwoods over which the hill-top looked, served but as a base tothe picture, a setting on the hither side. Beyond it theShatemuc rolled down from the north in uninterrupted view, theguardian hills, Wut-a-qut-o and its companions, standing oneither side; and beyond them, far beyond, was the low westernshore of the river sweeping round to the right, where theriver made another angle, shewing its soft tints; and somefaint and clear blue mountains still further off, the extremedistance of all. But what varied colouring, -- what freshlights and shades, -- what sweet contrast of fair blue sky andfair blue river, -- the one, earth's motion; the other, heaven's rest; what deep and bright greens in the foreground, and what shadowy, faint, cloud-like, tints of those far offmountains. The soft north wind that had greeted the travellersin the early morning, was blowing yet, soft and warm; itflickered the leaves of the oaks and chestnuts with a lazysummer stir; white sails spotted the broad bosom of theShatemuc and came down with summer gentleness from the upperreaches of the river. And here and there a cloud floated over;and now and then a locust sang his monotone; and another softbreath of the North wind said that it was August; and thegrasshoppers down in the dell said yes, it was. 

Winnie sat or lay down under the trees, and there Winthropleft her for a while; when he came back it was with flushedface and crisped hair and a basket full of berries. He threwhimself down on the ground beside Winnie, threw his hat off onthe other side, and gave her the basket. Winnie set it downagain, after a word of comment, and her head took its wontedplace of rest with a little smothered sigh. 

"How do you feel, Winnie?" said her brother, passing his handgently over her cheek. 

"O I feel very well, " said Winnie. "But Governor, I wish youcould keep all this! --"

"I couldn't live here and in Mannahatta too, Winnie. "

"But Governor, you don't mean always to live in Mannahatta, doyou? -- and nowhere else?"

"My work is there, Winnie. "

"Yes, but you can't play there, Governor. "

"I don't want to play, " he said gently and lightly. 

"But why, Governor?" -- said Winnie, whom the remark madeuneasy, she couldn't tell why; -- "why don't you want to play?why shouldn't you?"

"I feel more appetite for work. "

"But you didn't use to be so, " said Winnie, raising her headto look at him. "You used to like play as well as anybody, Winthrop?"

"Perhaps I do yet, Winnie, if I had a chance. "

"But then what do you mean by your having more appetite forwork? and not wanting to play?"

"I suppose it means no more but that the chance is wanting. "

"But _why_ is it wanting, Governor?"

"Why are your Solomon's Seals not in flower?"

Winnie turned her head to look at them, and then brought itround again with the uneasiness in full force. 

"But Governor! -- you don't mean to say that your life is likethat?"

"Like what, Winnie?" said he with a pleasant look at her. 

"Why, anything so dismal -- like the Solomon's Seals with theflower gone?"

"Are they dismal?"

"Why, no, -- but you would be, if you were like anything ofthat kind. "

"Do I look like anything of that kind?"

"No, " said Winnie, "indeed you don't, -- you never _look_ theleast bit dismal in the world. "

"I am not the least bit in the world, Winnie. "

"I wish you had everything in the world that would give youpleasure!" she said, looking at him wistfully, with a vagueunselfish consciousness that it might not all be for hers. 

"That would be too much for any man's share, Winnie. You wouldmake a Prince in a fairy tale of me. "

"Well, what if I would?" said Winnie, half smiling, halfsighing, and paying him all sort of leal homage in her heart'score. 

"That is not commonly the lot of those who are to reignhereafter in a better kingdom. "

Winnie rose up a little so that she could put both hands onhis shoulders, and kissed him on forehead and cheeks; mostloving kisses. 

"But dear Governor, it isn't wrong for me to wish you to haveboth things, is it?"

"I hope not, dear Winnie. I don't think your wishes will doany mischief. But I am content to be here to-day. "

"Are you? do you enjoy it?" she asked eagerly. 

"Very much. "

"I am so glad! I was afraid somehow you didn't -- as much as Idid. But I am sorry you can't keep it, Governor. Isn't it allbeautiful? I didn't know it was so delightful as it is. "

And Winnie sighed her wish over again. 

"You can't have your possessions in both worlds, Winnie. "

"No, -- and I don't want to. "

"You only wish that I could, " he said smiling. 

"Well, Winthrop, -- I can't help that. "

"I am in better hands than yours, Winnie. Look at that shadowcreeping down the mountain. "

"It's from that little white cloud up there, " said Winnie. "Ohow beautiful! --"

"You see how something that is bright enough in itself maycast a shadow, " he said. 

"Was that what you thought of when you told me to look at it?"

"No, -- not at that minute. "

"But then we can see the cloud and we know that it is bright. "

"And in the other case we _don't_ see the cloud and we know thatit is bright. 'We _know_ that all things shall work together forgood to them that love God, to them who are the calledaccording to his purpose!'"

"But Governor, what are you talking of?"

"That little cloud which is rolling away from Wut-a-qut-o. "

"But what cloud is over you, or rolling away from you?"

"I thought the whole land was in shadow to you, Winnie, because I cannot buy it. "

"Why no it isn't, " said Winnie. "It never looked so bright tome. It never seemed near so beautiful when it was ours. "

"The other land never seemed so bright and never will seem sobeautiful, as when it is ours. 'Thine eyes shall see the Kingin his beauty; they shall behold the land that is very faroff. '"

Winnie smiled a most rested, pleased, gratified smile at him;and turned to another subject. 

"I wonder what's become of your old little boat, Governor --the Merry-go-round?"

"I suppose it is lying in the barn-loft yet, " he repliedrather gravely. 

"I wonder if it is all gone to pieces. "

"I should think not. Why?"

"I was looking at the river and thinking how pleasant it wouldbe to go out on it, if we could. "

"If we can get home, Winnie, I'll see how the matter stands. "

"I don't want to go home, " said Winnie. 

"But I want to have you. And Karen will want thehuckleberries. "

"Well -- I'll go, " said Winnie. "But we'll come again, Governor-- won't we?"

"As often as you please. Now shall I carry you?"

"O no!"

But Winthrop presently judged of that also for himself, andtaking his little sister on one arm, made his way steadily andswiftly down to the level ground. 

"_You're_ a good climber, " was Winnie's remark when he set heron her feet again. "And I don't know but I was once. I'vealmost forgotten. But it's as good to have you carry me, andto see you do it. "

The Merry-go-round was found in good condition, only with herseams a little, or not a little, opened. That trouble howeverwas got over by the help of a little caulking and submersionand time; and she floated again as lightly as ever. Some daysstill passed, owing to weather or other causes, before thefirst evening came when they went out to try her. 

That evening, -- it was the seventeenth of August, and veryfair, -- they went down to the rocks, just when the afternoonhad grown cool in the edge of the evening. Winnie put herselfin the stern of the little white boat, and Winthrop took hisold place and the oars. Winnie's eyes were sparkling. 

"It will be harder work to pull than it used to be, " sheremarked joyously, -- "you're so out of the habit of it. "

Winthrop only replied by pushing the little skiff off. 

"However, " continued Winnie, "I guess it isn't much to pull meanywhere. "

"Which way shall we go?" said Winthrop, one or two slowstrokes of his oar sending the little boat forward in a waythat made Winnie smile. 

"I don't know -- I want to go everywhere -- Let's go up, Winthrop, and see how it looks -- Let's go over under Wut-a-qut-o. O how beautiful it is, Winthrop! --"

Winthrop said nothing, but a repetition of those leisurelystrokes brought the boat swiftly past the cedars and rocks ofShahweetah's shore and then out to the middle of the river, gradually drawing nearer to the other side. But when the mid-river was gained, high enough up to be clear of theobstructing point of Shahweetah, Winnie's ecstatic cry ofdelight brought Winthrop's head round; and with that he layupon his oars and looked too. He might. The mountains and thenorthern sky and clouds were all floating as it were in a warmflush of light -- it was upon the clouds, and through the air, and upon the mountains' sides, -- so fair, so clear, but beyondthat, so rich in its glowing suffusion of beauty, that eyesand tongue were stayed, -- the one from leaving the subject, the other from touching it. Winthrop's oars lay still, thedrops falling more and more slowly from the wet blades. Thefirst word was a half awed whisper from Winnie --

"O Winthrop, -- did you ever see it look so?"

The oars dipped again, and again lay still. 

"Winthrop, this isn't much like Mannahatta!" Winnie said next, under breath. 

The oars dipped again, and this time to purpose. The boatbegan to move slowly onward. 

"But Winthrop you don't say anything?" Winnie said uneasily. 

"I don't know how. "

"I wish I could keep a picture of that, " she went on withregretful accent as her eyes turned again to the wonderfulscene before them in the north, floating as it seemed in thatliving soft glow. 

"I shall keep a picture of it, " said Winthrop. 

Winnie sighed her regrets again, and then resigned herself tolooking with her present eyes, while the little boat movedsteadily on and the view was constantly changing; till theywere close under the shadow of Wut-a-qut-o, and from beneathits high green and grey precipice rising just above them, onlythe long sunny reach of the eastern shore remained in view. They looked at it, till the sunset began to make a change. 

"O Winthrop, there is Bright Spot, " said Winnie, as her headcame round to the less highly coloured western shore. 

"Yes, " -- said Winthrop, letting the boat drop a little downfrom under the mountain. 

"How it has grown up! -- and what are all those bushes at thewater's edge?"

"Alders. Look at those clouds in the south. "

There lay, crossing the whole breadth of the river, a spreadof close-folded masses of cloud, the under edges of which thesun touched, making a long network of salmon or flame-colouredlines. And then above the near bright-leaved horizon offoliage that rose over Bright Spot, the western sky wasbrilliantly clear; flecked with little reaches of cloudstretching upwards and coloured with fairy sunlight colours, gold, purple, and rose, in a very witchery of mingling. 

Winthrop pushed the boat gently out a little further from theshore, and they sat looking, hardly bearing to take their eyesfrom the cloud kaleidoscope above them, or to speak, the mindhad so much to do at the eyes. Only a glance now and then forcontrast of beauty, at the south, and to the north where twoor three little masses of grey hung in the clear sky. GentlyWinthrop's oars dipped from time to time, bringing them alittle further from the western shore and within fuller viewof the opening in the mountains. As they went, a purplishshade came upon the grey masses in the north; -- the sunlightcolours over Bright Spot took richer and deeper hues of purpleand red; the salmon network in the south changed for rose. Andthen, before they had got far, the moon's crescent, two orthree days old, a glittering silver thread, hung itself outamid the bright rosy flecks of cloud in the west just hard bythe mountain's brow. Winnie had to look sharp to find it. 

"And there is Venus too, " said Winthrop; -- "look at her. "

"Where?"

"In the blue -- a little lower down than the moon; and furtherto the south -- do you see? --"

"That white bright star? -- O how beautiful! -- in that clearblue sky. O how bright! -- how much brighter than the moon, Winthrop?"

"Yes, -- she has a way of looking bright. "

"How did you know it was Venus, or how _do_ you know?"

"Very much in the same way that I know it is Winnie. I haveseen her before. I never saw those clouds before. "

"Did you ever see _such_ clouds before! And how long they stay, Winthrop. O what a place!"

Slowly the little boat pulled over the river, getting furtherand further from Bright Spot and its bright bit of skyscenery, which faded and changed very slowly as they sailedaway. They neared the high rocky point of Shahweetah, and theninstead of turning down the river, kept an easterly coursealong the low woody shore which stretched back from the point. As they went on, and as the clouds lost their glory, the skyin the west over Wut-a-qut-o's head tinged itself with violetand grew to an opal light, the white flushing up liquidly intorosy violet, which in the northeast quarter of the horizonmelted away to a clear grave blue. 

"It's more beautiful than the clouds, " said Winnie. 

"It is a wonderful evening, " said Winthrop, as he set his oarsmore earnestly in the water and the little boat skimmed along. 

"But dear Governor, where are you going?"

"Going to land, somewhere. "

"To land! But it'll be time to go home, won't it? We're agreat way from there. "

"We'll take a short cut home, " said Winthrop, looking roundfor a place to execute his purpose. 

"How can you?"

"Through the woods. Wouldn't you like it? You've had noexercise to-day. "

"O I'd like it. But what will you do with the boat? leave herhere? -- O in the Aegean sea, Winthrop!"

"That is what I am steering for, " said her brother. "But Iwant to see the after-glow come out first. "

The 'Aegean Sea' was a little bay-like cove on the north sideof Shahweetah; to which a number of little rock-heads risingout of the water, or some freak of play, had long ago givenits classic name. Winthrop pushed his boat to the shore there, and made her fast; and then he and Winnie waited for theafter-glow. But it was long coming and the twilight grew on;and at last they left the bay and plunged into the woods. Afew steps brought them to a path, which rough and untravelledas it was, their knowledge of the land enabled them easily tofollow. Easily for all but their feet. Winnie's would havefaltered utterly, so rough, stony, and broken it was, withouther brother's strong arm; but helped and led and lifted byhim, she went on joyously through the gathering gloom andunder the leafy canopy that shut out all the sky and allknowledge of the after-glow, if it came. But when they had gotfree of the woods, and had come out upon the little open cedarfield that was on the river side of Shahweetah, near home, --there it was! Over Wut-a-qut-o's head lay a solid little longmass of cloud with its under edges close-lined with fine deepbeautiful red. The opal light was all gone; the face of theheavens was all clear blue, in the gravity of twilight. Venusand the moon were there yet, almost down -- bright as ever; themoon more brilliant and bright; for now the contrast of hersharp crescent was with Wut-a-qut-o's dark shadowy side. 

That was the beginning of that August boating. And often againas in old times the little skiff flew over the water, in theshadow of the mountain and the sunlight of the bay, coastingthe shores, making acquaintance with the evergreens and oaksthat skirted them and looked over into the water's edge. Whereonce Elizabeth had gone, Winthrop and Winnie with swifter andsurer progress went; many an hour, in the early and the latesunbeams. For those weeks that they stayed, they lived in thebeauties of the land, rather than according to old Karen'swish, on the fatness of it. 

But she did her best; and when at last Winthrop must return tohis business, and they bid her good bye and left her and Wut-a-qut-o once more, the old woman declared even while she waswiping the eyes that would not be dry, that their coming had"done both of 'em real good -- a power of it -- and her too. "

"He hasn't his beat in _this_ country, " she said to old Andereseher brother, as she was trying to take up again her wontedwalk through the house. -- "And she, dear thing! ain't long forthis world; but she's ready for a better. "

CHAPTER V. 

It is not growing like a treeIn bulk, doth make man better be, Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall at last a log, dry, bald, and sear. A lily of a dayIs fairer far, in May. BEN JONSON. 

"What has become of the Landholms?" said Mr. Haye's youngwife, one evening in the end of December. 

"Confound the Landholms!" -- was Mr. Haye's answeringejaculation, as he kicked his bootjack out of the way of hisjust-slippered foot. 

"Why Mr. Haye!" said Rose, bridling over her netting-work. "What have the Landholms done?"

"Done!"

"Well, what have they?"

"One of them won't pay me his dues, and the other is fightingme for trying to get them, " said Mr. Haye, looking at theevening paper with infinite disgust. 

"What dues?"

"And what fighting, Mr. Haye?" said Elizabeth and Rose in abreath. 

"I can't answer you if you both speak at once. "

"Well, what do you mean by fighting, Mr. Haye?"

"Fighting. "

"Well, but what sort?" said Rose laughing, while the otherlady laid down her book and waited. 

"With his own cursed weapons. "

"And what are those, Mr. Haye? you haven't told us which ofthe Landholms you mean, yet. "

"One of 'em hasn't any weapons but his fists and his tongue, "said Mr. Haye. "He hasn't tried the first on me -- I have somesmall knowledge of the last. "

"What has the other done?" said Elizabeth. 

"He is doing what he can, to hinder my getting my rights ofhis brother. "

"What does his brother owe you?"

"Money, --" said Mr. Haye shortly. 

"I suppose so. But what for?"

"Business! What does it signify what for?"

"I should like to know, father. It must be something which canbe told. "

"He bought cotton of me. "

"Can he pay for it?"

"I suppose so. I'll try. "

"But what is his brother doing?"

"Trying to hinder, as I told you. "

"But how? How can he?"

"Don't ask me what lawyers can or can't do. They can put theirfingers into any dirty job that offers!"

Elizabeth sat silent a minute with a very disturbed look. Rosehad gone back to her netting, only glancing up once in a whileat the faces of the other two. 

"Upon what plea does he pretend to hinder it, father?"

"A plea he won't be able to bear out, I fancy, " said Mr. Haye, turning round in his chair so as to bring his other side tothe fire, and not ceasing to look at the paper all this while. 

"But what?"

"What does it signify _what!_ Something you can't understand. "

"I can understand it, father; and I want to know. "

"A plea of _fraud_, on my part, in selling the cotton. I supposeyou would like to cultivate his acquaintance after that. "

Elizabeth sat back in her seat with a little start, and didnot speak again during the conversation. Rose looked up fromher mesh-stick and poured out a flood of indignant andsomewhat incoherent words; to which Mr. Haye respondedbriefly, as a man who was not fond of the subject, and finallyput an end to them by taking the paper and walking off. Elizabeth changed her position then for a low seat, andresting her chin on her hand sat looking into the fire witheyes in which there burned a dark glow that rivalled it. 

"Lizzie, " said her companion, "did you ever hear of such athing!"

"Not 'such a thing, '" she answered. 

"Aren't you as provoked as you can be?"

"'Provoked' is not exactly the word, " Elizabeth replied. 

"Well you know what to think of Winthrop Landholm now, don'tyou?"

"Yes. "

"Aren't you surprised?"

"I wish I could never be surprised again, " she answered, laying her head down for an instant on her lap; but thengiving it the position it held before. 

"You take it coolly!" said Rose, jerking away at her netting. 

"Do I? _You_ don't. "

"No, and I shouldn't think you would. Don't you _hate_ thoseLandholms?"

"No. "

"Don't you! You ought. What are you looking at in the fire?"

"Winthrop Landholm, -- just at that minute. "

"I do believe, " said Rose indignantly, "you like WinthropLandholm better than you do Mr. Haye!"

Elizabeth's eyes glared at her, but though there seemed amoment's readiness to speak, she did not speak, but presentlyrose up and quitted the room. She went to her own; locked thedoor, and sat down. There was a moment's quiver of the lip anddrawing of the brow, while the eyes in their fire seemed tothrow off sparks from the volcano below; and then the headbent, with a cry of pain, and the flood of sorrow broke; sobitter, that she sometimes pressed both hands to her head, asif it were in danger of parting in two. The proud forehead wasstooped to the knees, and the shoulders convulsed in heragony. And it lasted long. Half hour and half hour passedbefore the struggle was over and Elizabeth had quieted herselfenough to go to bed. When at last she rose to begin thebusiness of undressing, she startled not a little to see herhandmaid Clam present herself. 

"When did you come in?" said Elizabeth after a moment'shesitation. 

"When the door opened, " said Clam collectedly. 

"How long ago?"

"How long have you been here, do you s'pose, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"That's not an answer to my question. "

"Not ezackly, " said Clam; "but if you'd tell, I could give abetter guess. "

Elizabeth kept a vexed silence for a little while. 

"Well Clam, " she said when she had made up her mind, "I havejust one word to say to you -- keep your tongue between yourteeth about all _my_ concerns. You are quite wise enough, and Ihope, good enough for that. "

"I ain't so bad I mightn't be better, " said Clam picking upher mistress's scattered things. "Mr. Winthrop didn't give upall hopes of me. I 'spect he'll bring us all right some ofthese days. "

With which sentence, delivered in a most oracular andencouraging tone, Clam departed; for Elizabeth made no answerthereto. 

The next morning, after having securely locked herself intoher room for an hour or more, Elizabeth summoned her handmaid. 

"I want you to put on your bonnet, Clam, and take this notefor me up to Mr. Landholm's; and give it with your own hand tohim or to his sister. "

Clam rather looked her intelligence than gave any other signof it. 

"If he's out, shall I wait till I see him?"

"No, -- give it to his sister. "

"I may put on more than my bonnet, mayn't I, Miss 'Lizabeth?_This_ won't keep me warm, with the snow on the ground. "

But Elizabeth did not choose to hear; and Clam went off withthe note. 

Much against her expectations, she found Mr. Winthrop at homeand in his room, and his sister not there. 

"Mornin', Mr. Winthrop!" said Clam, with more of a courtesythan she ever vouchsafed to her mistress or to any one elsewhomsoever. He came forward and shook her hand very kindly andmade her sit down by the fire. The black girl's eyes followedhim, as if, though she didn't say it, it was good to see himagain. 

"What's the word with you, Clam?"

"'Tain't with me -- the word's with you, Mr. Winthrop. "

"What is it?"

"I don' know, sir. I've nothin' to do but to bring it. "

"How do you do this cold day?"

"_I_ ain't cold, " said Clam. "I bethought me to put my cloak onmy shoulders. Miss 'Lizabeth wanted me to come off with onlymy bonnet. "

And she produced the note, which Winthrop looked at and laidon the table. 

"How is Miss Elizabeth?"

"She's sort o', " said Clam. "She has her ups and downs likeother folks. She was down last night and she's up this mornin'-- part way. "

"I hope she is pleased with you, Clam. "

"She ain't pleased with anything, much, " said Clam; "so itcan't be expected. I believe she's pleased with me as much aswith anything else in our house. Last night she was cryin' asif her head would split -- by the hour long. "

"That is not part of your word to me, is it?"

"Not just, " said Clam. "Mr. Winthrop, will you have me comeback for an answer?"

"Did Miss Elizabeth desire it?"

"I guess so, " said Clam. "But she didn't tell me to come butonce. "

"Then don't come again. "

Clam rose to go and settled her cloak as she moved towards thedoor. 

"If she sends me I may come again, mayn't I, Mr. Winthrop?"she said pausing. 

"Yes, " he said with a smile; but it was a very little bit ofone. 

"How is Winifred?" said Clam. 

"She is not well. "

The smile had entirely passed away; his face was more gravethan ever. 

"Is she more than common unwell?"

"Yes. Very much. "

"Can I go in and see her, Mr. Winthrop?"

"Yes, if you please. "

Clam went; and Winthrop took up Elizabeth's note. 

"No 11 Parade, Dec. 20, 1821. 

"I have just heard, briefly and vaguely, of the difficultiesbetween my father and your brother, and of the remedies you, Mr. Landholm, are employing. I do not know the truth nor thedetails of anything beyond the bare outlines. Those areenough, and more than I know how to bear. I don't wish to haveanything explained to me. But Mr. Landholm, grant me onefavour -- you _must_ grant it, if you please -- do not let it beexplained any further to anybody. All you want, I suppose, isto see your brother righted. I will pay the utmost of what isdue to him. I do not understand how the business lies -- but Iwill furnish all the money that is wanting to set it right andput an end to these proceedings, if you will only let me knowwhat it is. Please let me know it, and let me do this, Mr. Landholm; it is _my right_; and I need not ask you, keep myknowledge of it secret from everybody. I am sure you must seethat what I ask is my right. 

"Elizabeth Haye. "

Winthrop had hardly more than time to read this when Clam putherself within his door again, shutting it at her back. 

"If the Governor'll let me, " she said, "I'll come and takecare of her; -- or I'll run up and down stairs, from the bottomto the top, -- whichever's useful. "

"It is very kind of you, Clam. Winnie and I thank you verymuch. But your mistress will want you. "

"She won't. She'll want me here. Let me come, Governor. Ishan't do nothin' for Miss 'Lizabeth if I stay with her. "

"Go and do all she wants you to do. No, I can't let you come. My sister is taken care of. "

"She'd be that where you are, " muttered Clam as she went outand went down the stairs, -- "and so would anybody else. I wishsome of the rest of us had a chance. Well -- maybe we'll get ityet! --"

She found Elizabeth at her desk where she had left her, waiting. 

"Did you find him?"

"Yes, miss. "

"And you gave him the note?"

"No, miss -- I mean, yes, miss. "

"Don't say 'miss' in that kind of way. Put a name to it. "

"What name?" said Clam. 

"Any one you like. Did you see anybody else?"

"I see the brother and the sister, " said Clam. "The brotherwas never lookin' better, and the sister was never lookin'worse; -- she ain't lookin' bad, neither. "

"Is she ill?"

"She's lyin' abed, and so far from bein' well that she'llnever be well again. "

"She hasn't been well this great while, Clam; _that's_ nothingnew. "

"_This_ is, " said Clam. 

"Does her brother think she is very ill?"

"He knows more about it than I do, " said Clam. "I said I wouldgo to take care of her, and he said I wouldn't, for you'd be awantin' me. "

"I don't want you at all!" said Elizabeth, -- "if you could beof any use. Are you quiet and careful enough for a nurse?"

"Firstrate!" -- said Clam; -- "no, I guess I'm not ezackly, here; but I were, up to Wutsey-Qutsey. "

"Up where?" said Elizabeth. 

"Yes, miss. "

"I told you not to speak to me so. "

Clam stood and gave no sign. 

"Do you think you could be of any use up there, Clam?"

"Mr. Winthrop says everybody can be of use. "

"Then go and try; I don't want you; and stay as long as theywould like to have you. "

"When will I go, Mis' Landholm?"

"What?"

"I asked Mis' Landholm, when will I go. "

"What do you mean, Clam!"

"You said call you any name I liked -- and I like that 'bout aswell as any one, " said Clam sturdily. 

"But it isn't my name. "

"I wish 'twas, " said Clam; -- "no, I don' know as I do, neither; but it comes kind o' handy. "

"Make some other serve your turn, " said Elizabeth gravely. "Goup this afternoon, and say I don't want you and shall be mosthappy if you can be of any service to Miss Winifred. "

"Or Mr. Winthrop --" said Clam. "I'll do all I can for both of'em, Miss 'Lizabeth. "

She was not permitted to do much. She went and stayed a nightand a day, and served well; but Winifred did not like hercompany, and at last confessed to Winthrop that she could notbear to have her about. It was of no use to reason the matter;and Clam was sent home. The answer to Elizabeth's note camejust before her handmaiden, by some other conveyance. 

"Little South St. Dec. 21, 1821. 

"Your note, Miss Haye, has put me in some difficulty, butafter a good deal of consideration I have made up my mind toallow the 'right' you claim. It is your right, and I have noright to deprive you of it. Yet the difficulty reaches furtherstill; for without details, which you waive, the result whichyou wish to know must stand upon my word alone. I dislikeexceedingly it should so stand; but I am constrained here alsoto admit, that if you choose to trust me rather than have thetrouble of the accounts, it is just that you should have yourchoice. 

"My brother's owing to Mr. Haye, for which he is heldresponsible, is in the sum of eleven hundred and forty-onedollars. 

"I have the honour to be, with great respect, "Winthrop Landholm. "

Elizabeth read and re-read. 

"It is very polite -- it is very handsome -- nothing could beclearer from any shadow of implications or insinuations -- no, nor of anything but 'great respect' either, " she said toherself. "It's very good of him to trust and understand me andgive me just what I want, without any palaver. _That_ isn't likecommon people, any more. Well, my note wasn't, either. But hehasn't said a word but _just_ what was necessary. -- Well, whyshould he? --"

She looked up and saw Clam. 

"What's brought you back again?"

"I don' know, " said Clam. "My two feet ha' brought me, but Idon' know what sent me. "

"Why did you come then?"

"'Cause I had to, " said Clam. "Nothin' else wouldn't ha' mademe. I told you it was good livin' with him. I'd stay as longas I got a chance, if I was anybody!"

"Then what made you come home?"

"I don' know, " said Clam. "He wouldn't let me stay. He don'tstop to make everything clear; he thinks it's good enough forhim to say so; and so it is, I suppose; and he told me tocome. "

"I am afraid you didn't do your duty well. "

"I'd like to see who wouldn't, " said Clam. "I did mine as wellas he did his'n. "

"How is Winifred?"

"She's pretty bad. I guess he don't think he'll have much moreof her, and he means to have all he can these last days. Andshe thinks she's almost in Paradise when he's alongside ofher. "

Elizabeth laid her face down and asked no more questions. 

But she concerned herself greatly to know how much and whatshe might do in the premises, to shew her kind feeling andremembrance, without doing too much. She sent Clam once withjellies; then she would not do that again. Should she go tosee Winifred herself? Inclination said yes; and backed itsconsent with sundry arguments. It was polite and kind; andeverybody likes kindness; she had known Winifred, and herbrother, long ago, and had received kindness in the family, yes, even just now from Winthrop himself; and though hisvisiting had so long been at an end, this late intercourse ofnotes and business gave her an opening. And probably Winifredhad very few friends in the city to look after her. And againinclination said "Go. " But then came in another feeling thatsaid "Go not. You have not opening enough. Mr. Landholm's longand utter cessation of visits, from whatever cause, saysplainly enough that he does not desire the pleasure of yoursociety; don't do anything that even looks like forcing itupon him. People will give it a name that will not pleaseyou. " "But then, " said inclination on the other hand, "mygoing could not have that air, to him, for he knows and I knowthat in the existing state of affairs it is perfectlyimpossible that he should ever enter the doors of my father'shouse -- let me do what I will. " "People don't know as much, "said the other feeling; "err on the safe side if at all, andstay at home. " "And I don't care much for people, " -- saidElizabeth. 

It was so uncommon a thing for her to find any self-imposedcheck upon what she wished to do, that Miss Haye was very muchpuzzled; and tried and annoyed out of all proportion by herself-consultations. She was in a fidget of uneasiness all daylong; and the next was no better. 

"What _is_ the matter, Lizzie?" said Rose, as she busilythreaded her netting-needle through mesh after mesh, andElizabeth was patiently or impatiently measuring the length ofthe parlour with her steps. "You look as if you had lost allyour friends. "

"Do I?"

"Yes. Why do you look so?"

"What is the difference between losing all one's friends, andhaving none to lose?"

"Why -- haven't you any?"

"Whom have I?"

"Well, you might have. I am sure _I_ have a great many. "

"Friends!" said Elizabeth. 

"Well -- I don't know who you call friends, " said Rose, breaking her silk with an impatient tug at a knot, -- "There! --dear! how _shall_ I tie it again? -- I should think you needn'tlook so glum. "

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Why -- because. You have everything in the world. "

"Have I?" said Elizabeth bitterly. "I am alone as I can be. "

"Alone!" said Rose. 

"Yes. I am alone. My father is buried in his business; I havenothing of him, even what I might have, or used to have -- _you_never were anything to me. There is not a face in the worldthat my heart jumps to see. "

"Except that one?" said Rose. 

"'That one, ' as you elegantly express it, I do not see, as ithappens. "

"It's a pity he didn't know what effect his coming and lookingin at our windows might have, " said Rose. "I am sure he wouldbe good enough to do it. "

But Elizabeth thought a retort unworthy of the subject; orelse her mind was full of other things; for after a dignifiedsilence of a few minutes she left Rose and went to her ownquarters. Perhaps the slight antagonistic spirit which wasraised by Rose's talk came in aid of her waveringinclinations, or brought back her mind to its old tone ofwilfulness; for she decided at once that she would go and seeWinifred. She had a further reason for going, she said toherself, in the matter of the money which she wished to conveyto Winthrop's hands. She did not want to send Clam with it;she did not like to commit it to the post; there was no otherway but to give it to him herself; and that, she said, shewould do; or to Winifred's hands for him. 

She left home accordingly, when the morning was about halfgone, and set out for Little South Street; with a quick butless firm step than usual, speaking both doubt and decision. Decision enough to carry her soon and without stopping to herplace of destination, and doubt enough to make her tremblewhen she got there. But without pausing she went in, mountedthe stairs, with the same quick footstep, and tapped at thedoor, as she had been accustomed to do on her former visits toWinifred. 

No gentle voice said "come in, " however, and the step whichElizabeth heard withinside after her knock, was notWinifred's. She had not expected that it would be; she had noreason to suppose that Winifred was well enough to be movingabout as usual, and she was not surprised to see Winthrop openthe door. The shadow of a surprise crossed his face for aninstant, -- then bowing, he stepped back and opened the doorwide for her to enter; but there was not the shadow of asmile. 

"Well, you _do_ look wonderfully grave!" was Elizabeth's thoughtas her foot crossed the threshold, -- "I wonder if I am doingsomething dreadful --"

And the instant impulse was to account for her being there, bypresenting her business -- not the business she had intended tomention first. 

She came in and stood by the table and began to speak; then heplaced a chair for her, and after a second of hesitation shesat down. She was embarrassed for a minute, then she looked upand looked him full in the face. 

"Mr. Landholm, I am exceedingly obliged to you for yourkindness in this late business, -- you were very good to me. "

"It was not kindness -- I felt you had a right to ask what Icould not refuse, Miss Elizabeth. "

"I have come to bring you the money which I did not like toget to you by any other means. "

She handed it to him, and he took it and counted it over. Elizabeth sat looking on, musing how tremulous her own handhad been, and how very cool and firm his was; and thinkingthat whatever were said by some people, there certainly wascharacter in some hands. 

"This will be handed to Mr. Haye, " he said, as he finished thecounting, -- "and all the proceedings will fall to the groundat once. "

"Thank you. "

"I cannot receive any thanks, Miss Elizabeth. I am merely anagent, doing what I have been obliged to conclude was myduty. "

"I must thank you, though, " said Elizabeth. "I feel so muchrelieved. You are not obliged to disclose my name to Mr. RufusLandholm?"

"Not at all. To no one. "

"That is all my excuse for being here, " said Elizabeth with aslight hesitation, -- "except I thought I might take theprivilege of old friendship to come and see your sister. "

"Thank you, " he said in his turn, but without raising hiseyes. Yet it was not coldly spoken. Elizabeth did not knowwhat to think of him. 

"Can I see her, Mr. Landholm? Is she well enough to see me?"

He looked up then; and there was, hardly a smile, but asingular light upon his whole face, that made Elizabeth feelexceedingly grave. 

"She is well, but she will not see you again, Miss Elizabeth. Winnie has left me. "

"Left! --" said Elizabeth bewildered. 

"Yes. She has gone to her home. Winnie died yesterday morning, Miss Haye. "

Elizabeth met the clear intent eye which, she did not knowwhy, fixed hers while he spoke; and then dropping her own, trembled greatly with constrained feeling. She could not tellin the least how to answer, either words or look; but it wouldhave been impossible for her to stir an inch from the spotwhere she stood. 

"Does it seem terrible to you?" he said. "It need not. Willyou see her?"

Elizabeth wished very strongly not; but as she hesitated howto speak, he had gently taken her hand and was leading herforward out of the room; and Elizabeth could not draw away herhand nor hinder the action of his; she let him lead herwhither he would. 

"Are you afraid?" he said, as he paused with his hand upon thedoor of the other room. Elizabeth uttered an incomprehensible'no, ' and they went in. 

"There is no need, " he said again in a gentle grave tone as heled her to the side of the bed and then let go her hand. Elizabeth stood where he had placed her, like a person under aspell. 

'There was no need' indeed, she confessed to herself, halfunconsciously, for all her thoughts were in a terrible whirl. Winnie's face looked as though it might have been the prisonof a released angel. Nothing but its sweetness and purity wasleft, of all that disease and weariness had ever wroughtthere; the very fair and delicate skin and the clusteringsunny locks seemed like angel trappings left behind. Innocenceand rest were the two prevailing expressions of the face, --entire, both seemed. Elizabeth stood looking, at first awe-stricken; but presently thoughts and feelings, many anddifferent ones, began to rise and crowd upon one another withstruggling force. She stood still and motionless, all themore. 

"There is no pain in looking there?" said her companionsoftly. Elizabeth's lips formed the same unintelligible 'no, 'which her voice failed to bring out. 

"Little sleeper!" said Winthrop, combing back with his fingersthe golden curls, which returned instantly to their formerposition, -- "she has done her work. She has begun upon herrest. I have reason to thank God that ever she lived. -- Ishall see the day when I can quietly thank him that she hasdied. "

Elizabeth trembled, and in her heart prayed Winthrop not tosay another word. 

"Does not this face look, Miss Haye, as if its once owner had'entered into peace?'"

If worlds had depended on Elizabeth's answering, she could nothave spoken. She could not look at the eye which, she knew, asthis question was put, sought hers; her own rested only on thehand that was moving back those golden locks, and on the whitebrow it touched; she dared not stir. The contact of those two, and the signification of them, was as much as she could bear, without any help. She knew his eye was upon her. 

"Isn't it worth while, " he said, "to have such a sure footholdin that other world, that the signal for removing thithershall be a signal of _peace?_"

Elizabeth bowed her head low in answer. 

"Have you it?" was his next question. He had left the bed'sside and stood by hers. 

Elizabeth wrung her hands and threw them apart with almost acry, -- "Oh I would give uncounted worlds if I had! --"

And the channel being once opened, the seal of silence andreserve taken off, her passion of feeling burst forth intowild weeping that shook her from head to foot. Involuntarilyshe took hold of the bedpost to stay herself, and clung to it, bending her head there like a broken reed. 

She felt even at the time, and remembered better afterwards, how gently and kindly she was drawn away from there and takenback into the other room and made to sit down. She could donothing at the moment but yield to the tempest of feeling, inwhich it seemed as if every wind of heaven shook her by turns. When at last it had passed over, the violence of it, and shetook command of herself again, it was even then with a verysobered and sad mind. As if, she thought afterwards, as ifthat storm had been, like some storms in the natural world, the forerunner and usher of a permanent change of weather. Shelooked up at Winthrop, when she was quieted and he brought hera glass of water, not like the person that had looked at himwhen she first came in. He waited till she had drunk the waterand was to appearance quite mistress of herself again. 

"You must not go yet, " he said, as she was making somemovement towards it; -- "you are cold. You must wait till youare warmed. "

He mended the fire and placed a chair for her, and handed herto it. Elizabeth did as she was bade, like a child; and satthere before the fire a little while, unable to keep quiettears from coming and coming again. 

"I don't know what you must think of me, Mr. Winthrop, " shesaid at last, when she was about ready to go. "I could nothelp myself. -- I have never seen death before. "

"You must see it again, Miss Elizabeth; -- you must meet itface to face. "

She looked up at him as he said it, with eager eyes, fromwhich tears ran yet, and that were very expressive in theintensity of their gaze. His were not less intent, but asgentle and calm as hers were troubled. 

"Are you ready?" he added. 

She shook her head, still looking at him, and her lips formedthat voiceless 'no. ' She never forgot the face with which heturned away, -- the face of grave gentleness, of sweet gravity, -- all the volume of reproof, of counsel, of truth, that was inthat look. But it was truth that, as it was known to him, heseemed to assume to be known to her; he did not open his lips. 

Elizabeth rose; she must go; she would have given a world tohave him say something more. But he stood and saw her put onher gloves and arrange her cloak for going out, and he saidnothing. Elizabeth longed to ask him the question, "What mustI do?" -- she longed and almost lingered to ask it; -- butsomething, she did not know what, stopped her and choked her, and she did not ask it. He saw her down to the street, insilence on both sides, and they parted there, with a singlegrasp of the hand. _That_ said something again; and Elizabethcried all the way home, and was well nigh sick by the time shegot there. 

CHAPTER VI. 

How now?Even so quickly may one catch the plague?TWELFTH NIGHT. 

Miss Haye came down to breakfast the next morning; but afterlittle more than a nominal presentation of herself there, sheescaped from Rose's looks and words of comment and innuendoand regained her own room. And there she sat down in thewindow to muse, having carefully locked out Clam. She hadreason. Clam would certainly have decided that her mistress'wanted fixing, ' if she could have watched the glowing intenteyes with which Elizabeth was going deep into some subject --it might be herself, or some other. Herself it was. 

"Well, " -- she thought, very unconscious how clearly one of thehouses on the opposite side of the street was defined on theretina of either eye, -- "I have learned two things by myprecious yesterday's expedition, that I didn't know before --or that if I did, it was in a sort of latent, unrecognizedway; -- two pretty important things! -- That I wish I was aChristian, -- yes, I do, -- and that there is a person in theworld who don't care a pin for me, whom I would lay down mylife for! -- How people would laugh at me if they knew it -- andjust because themselves they are not capable of it, and cannotunderstand it. -- Why shouldn't I like what is worthy to beliked? -- why shouldn't I _love_ it? It is to my honour that Ido! -- Because he don't like _me_, people would say; -- and whyshould he like me? or what difference does it make? It is nota fine face or a fair manner that has taken me -- if it were, Ishould be only a fool like a great many others; -- it is thosethings which will be as beautiful in heaven as they are here --the beauty of goodness -- of truth -- and fine character. -- Whyshould I not love it when I see it? I shall not see it oftenin my life-time. And what has his liking of me to do with it?How should he like me! The very reasons for which I look athim would hinder his ever looking at me -- and ought. I am notgood, -- not good enough for him to look at me; there are goodthings in me, but all run wild, or other things running wildover them. I am not worthy to be spoken of in the day that hisname is mentioned. I wish I was good! -- I wish I was aChristian! -- but I know one half of that wish is because he isa Christian. --That's the sort of power that human beings haveover each other! The beauty of religion, in him, has drawn memore, unspeakably, than all the sermons I ever heard in mylife. What a beautiful thing such a Christian is! -- whatliving preaching! -- and without a word said. Without a wordsaid, -- it is in the eye, the brow, the lips, -- the verycarriage has the dignity of one who isn't a piece of thisworld. Why aren't there more such! -- and this is the only onethat ever I knew! -- of all I have seen that called themselvesChristians. -- Would any possible combination ever make _me_ sucha person? -- Never! -- never. I shall be a rough piece ofChristianity if ever I am one at all. But I don't even knowwhat it is to be one. Oh, why couldn't he say three words moreyesterday! But he acted -- and looked -- as if I could dowithout them. What did he mean! --"

When she had got to this point, Elizabeth left her seat by thewindow and crossed the room to a large wardrobe closet, on ahigh shelf of which sundry unused articles of lumber had founda hiding place. And having fetched a chair in, she mountedupon the top of it and rummaged, till there came to her hand acertain old bible which had belonged once to her mother or hergrandmother. Elizabeth hardly knew which, but had kept a vaguerecollection of the book's being in existence and of itshaving been thrust away up on that shelf. She brought it downand dusted off the tokens of many a month's forgetfulness anddishonour; and with an odd sense of the hands to which it hadonce been familiar and precious, and of the distant influenceunder the power of which it was now in her own hands, she laidit on the bed, and half curiously, half fearfully, opened it. The book had once been in hands that loved it, for it wasready of itself to lie open at several places. Elizabethturned the leaves aimlessly, and finally left it spread at oneof these open places; and with both elbows resting on the bedand both hands supporting her head, looked to see what she wasto find there. It chanced to be the beginning of the 119thpsalm. 

"BLESSED ARE THE UNDEFILED IN THE WAY, WHO WALK IN THE LAW OFTHE LORD. "

By what thread of association was it, that the water rushed toher eyes when they read this, and for some minutes hinderedher seeing another word, except through a veil of tears?

"Am I becoming a Christian?" she said to herself. "Butsomething more must be wanting than merely to be sorry that Iam not what he is. How every upright look and word bearwitness that this description belongs to him. And I -- I am outof 'the way' altogether. "

"BLESSED ARE THEY THAT KEEP HIS TESTIMONIES, AND THAT SEEK HIMWITH THE WHOLE HEART. "

"'Keep his testimonies, '" said Elizabeth, -- "and 'seek himwith the whole heart. ' -- I never did, or began to do, the oneor the other. '_With the whole heart_' -- and I never gave onebit of my heart to it -- and how is he to be _sought?_ --"

"THEY ALSO DO NO INIQUITY; THEY WALK IN HIS WAYS. "

The water stood in Elizabeth's eyes again. 

"How far from me! -- how very far I am from it! 'Do noiniquity, ' -- and I suppose I am always doing it -- 'They walkin his ways, ' and I don't even so much as know what they are. -- I wish Mr. Winthrop had said a little more yesterday!" --

She pondered this verse a little, feeling if she did notrecognize its high and purified atmosphere; but at the nextshe sprang up and went back to her window. 

"THOU HAST COMMANDED US TO KEEP THY PRECEPTS DILIGENTLY. "

Elizabeth and the Bible were at issue. 

She could heartily wish that her character were that fair andsweet one the first three verses had lined out; but the_command_ met a denial; or at the least a putting off of itsclaim. She acknowledged all that went before, even in itsapplication to herself; but she was not willing, or certainlyshe was not ready, to take the pains and bear the restraintthat should make her and it at one. She did not put the caseso fairly before herself. She kept that fourth verse at arm'slength, as it were, conscious that it held something she couldnot get over; unconscious what was the precise why. She rushedback to her conclusion that the Bible teaching wasunsatisfactory, and that she wanted other; and so travellinground in a circle she came to the point from which she hadbegun. With a more saddened and sorrowful feeling, she stoodlooking at Winthrop's character and at her own; morecertified, if that had been wanting, that she herself wasastray; and well she resolved that if ever she got anotherchance she would ask him to tell her more about her duty, andhow she should manage to do it. 

But how was she to get another chance? Winthrop never came, nor could come, to Mr. Haye's; all that was at an end; shenever could go again to his rooms. That singular visit ofyesterday had once happened, but could never happen again byany possibility. She knew it; she must wait. And weeks wenton, and still her two wishes lived in her heart; and still shewaited. There was nobody else of whom she chose to ask herquestions; either from want of knowledge, or from want oftrust, or from want of attraction. And there were few indeedthat came to the house whom she could suppose capable ofanswering them. 

One evening it happened that Mr. Satterthwaite came in. Heoften did that; he had never lost the habit of finding it apleasant place. This time he threw himself down at the tea-table, in tired fashion, just as the lady of the house askedhim for the news. 

"No news, Mrs. Haye -- sorry I haven't any. Been all dayattending court, till I presume I'm not fit for generalsociety. I hope a cup of tea 'll do something for me. "

"What's taken you into court?" said Rose, as she gave theasked-for tea. 

"A large dish of my own affairs, -- that is to say, my uncle'sand fathers and grandfather's -- which is in preciousconfusion. "

"I hope, getting on well?" said Rose sweetly. 

"Don't know, " said Mr. Satterthwaite contentedly. "Don't knowtill we get out of the confusion. But I have the satisfactionof knowing it's getting on as well as it _can_ get on, -- fromthe hands it is in. "

"Whose hands are they?" Elizabeth asked. 

"In Mr. Landholm's. -- He'll set it right, if anybody can. Iknow he will. Never saw such a fellow. Mrs. Haye -- thank you --this bread and butter is all sufficient. Uncommon to have afriend for one's lawyer, and to know he is both a friend and alawyer. "

"Rather uncommon, " said Elizabeth. 

"Is Winthrop Landholm your friend?" said Rose dryly. 

"Yes! The best friend I've got. I'd do anything in the worldfor that fellow. He deserves it. "

"Mr. Satterthwaite, " said Elizabeth, "that bread and butterisn't so good as these biscuits -- try one. "

"He don't deserve it from everybody!" said Rose, as Mr. Satterthwaite gratefully took a biscuit. 

"Why not?"

"He don't deserve it from me. I've known him to do unhandsomethings. Mean!"

"Winthrop Landholm! -- My dear Mrs. Haye, you are under somemisapprehension. I'll stake my reputation he never did anunhandsome or a mean thing. He _couldn't_. "

"He did, " said Rose. 

"Will you favour me with the particulars you have heard?"

"I haven't _heard_, " said Rose, -- "I _know_. "

"You _have_ heard!" said Elizabeth sternly, -- "and only heard. You forget. You may not have understood anything right. "

The gentleman looked in a little astonishment from the bright-coloured cheeks of one lady to the cloudy brow of the other;but as neither added anything further, he took up the matter. 

"I am almost certain Miss Elizabeth is right. I am sure Mr. Landholm would not do what you suspect him of. He _could_ not doit. "

"He is mortal, I suppose, " said Rose sourly, "and so he _would_do what other mortals do. "

"He is better than some other mortals, " said Mr. Satterthwaite. "I am not a religious man myself; but ifanything would make me believe in it, it would be that man. "

"Don't you 'believe in it, ' Mr. Satterthwaite?" askedElizabeth. 

"In a sort of way, yes, I do; -- I suppose it's a thing onemust come to at last. "

"If you want to come to it at last, I should think you wouldat first, " said Elizabeth, "_I_ would. I shouldn't think it wasa very safe way to put it off. "

Mr. Satterthwaite mused over his tea and made no answer;clearly the conversation had got upon the wrong tack. 

"Are you going to be in court to-morrow again, Mr. Satterthwaite?" asked the lady of the house. 

"I don't know -- not for my own affairs -- I don't know but Ishall go in to hear Winthrop's cause come on against Mr. Ryle. "

"I never was in court in my life, " said Elizabeth. 

"Suppose you go, Miss Elizabeth -- If you'll allow me to havethe honour of taking care of you, I shall be very happy. There'll be something to hear, between Chancellor Justice andmy friend Winthrop and Mr. Brick. "

"Is Mr. Brick going to speak to-morrow?" said Rose. 

"Yes -- he is on the other side. "

"Let's go, Lizzie, " said her cousin. "Will you take me too, Mr. Brick? -- Mr. Satterthwaite, I mean. "

Mr. Satterthwaite declared himself honoured, prospectively;Elizabeth put no objection of her own in the way; and thescheme was agreed on. 

The morrow came, and at the proper hour the trio repaired tothe City Hall and mounted its high white steps. 

"Don't you feel afraid, Lizzie, to be coming here?" said hercousin. "I do. "

"Afraid of what, Mrs. Haye?" inquired their attendant. 

"O I don't know, -- it looks so; -- it makes me think ofprisoners and judges and all such awful things!"

Mr. Satterthwaite laughed, and stole a glance beyond Mrs. Hayeto see what the other lady was thinking of. But Elizabeth saidnothing and looked nothing; she marched on like an automatonbeside her two companions, through the great halls, one afteranother, till the room was reached and they had secured theirseats. Then certainly no one who had looked at her face wouldhave taken it for an automaton. Though she was as still as apiece of machine-work, except the face. Rose was in a fidgetof business, and the tip of her bonnet's white featherexecuted all manner of arcs and curves in the air, withinimminent distance of Mr. Satterthwaite's face. 

"Who's who? -- and where's anybody, Mr. Satterthwaite, " sheinquired. 

"That's the Chancellor, sitting up there at the end, do yousee? -- Sitting alone, and leaning back in his chair. "

"_That?_" said Rose. "I see. Is that Chancellor Justice? A fine-looking man, very, isn't he?"

"Well -- I suppose he is, " said Mr. Satterthwaite. "He's a_strong_ man. "

"Strong?" said Rose; -- "is he? Lizzie! -- isn't ChancellorJustice a fine-looking man?"

"Fine-looking?" -- said Elizabeth, bringing her eyes in theChancellor's direction. "No, I should think not. "

"Is there _anybody_ that is fine-looking here?" whispered Rosein Elizabeth's bonnet. 

"Our tastes are so different, it is impossible for one to tellwhat will please the other, " replied Elizabeth coolly. 

"Where's Mr. Landholm, Mr. Satterthwaite?"

"Winthrop? -- He is down there -- don't you see him?"

"'Down there?'" said Rose, -- "There are a great many peopledown there --"

"There's Mr. Herder shaking hands with him now --"

"Mr. Herder? -- Lizzie, do you see them?"

"Who?"

"Winthrop Landholm and Mr. Herder. "

"Yes. "

"Where are they?"

"Hush --"

For just then proceedings began, and Rose's tongue for a fewminutes gave way in favour of her ears. And by the time shehad found out that she could not make anything of what wasgoing on, Mr. Herder had found his way to their side. 

"Miss Elisabet'!" he said, -- "and Mistress Haye! what has madeyou to come here to-day?"

"Mr. Satterthwaite wanted us to hear your favourite Mr. Landholm, " said Rose, -- "so I came. Lizzie didn't come forthat. "

Elizabeth shook hands with her friend smilingly, but saidnever a word as to why she was there. 

"Winthrop is good to hear, " said Mr. Herder, "when you canunderstand him. He knows how to speak. I can understand _him_ --but I cannot understand Mr. Brick -- I cannot make nozing ofhim when he speaks. "

"What are they doing to-day, Mr. Herder?" said Elizabeth. 

"It is the cause of my brother-in-law, Jean Lansing, againstMr. Ryle, -- he thinks that Mr. Ryle has got some of his money, and I think so too, and so Winthrop thinks; but nobody _knows_, except Mr. Ryle -- he knows all of it. Winthrop has been askingsome questions about it, to Mr. Ryle and Mr. Brick" --

"When?"

"O a little while ago -- a few weeks; -- and they say no, -- theydo not choose to make answer to his questions. Now Winthrop isgoing to see if the Chancellor will not make that they musttell what he wants to know; and Mr. Brick will fight so hardas he can not to tell. But Winthrop will get what he wants. "

"How do you know, Mr. Herder?"

"He does, always. "

"What does he want, Mr. Herder?" said Rose. 

"It is my brother-in-law's business, " said the naturalist. "Hewants to know if Mr. Ryle have not got a good deal of hismoney someveres; and Mr. Ryle, he does not want to say nozingabout it; and Winthrop and Mr. Brick, they fight; and theChancellor he says, 'Mr. Landholm, you have the right; MrBrick, you do what he tell you. '"

"Then why isn't the cause ended?" said Elizabeth. 

"Because we have not found out all yet; we are pushing them, Mr. Ryle and Mr. Brick, leetle by leetle, into the corner; andwhen we get 'em into the corner, then they will have to pay usto get out. "

"You seem very sure about it, Mr. Herder, " said Rose. 

"I do not know, " said the naturalist. "I am not much afraid. My friend Winthrop -- he knows what he is doing. "

And to that gentleman the party presently gave theirattention; as also did the sturdy strong face of Mr. Justicethe Chancellor, and the extremely different physiognomy of Mr. Dustus Brick. 

Winthrop and Mr. Brick spoke alternately; and as this was thecase on each point, or question, -- as Mr. Herder called them, -- and as one at least of the speakers was particularly clearand happy in setting forth his meaning, the listeners werekept from weariness and rewarded, those of them that had mindsfor it, with some intellectual pleasure. It was pretty much onthis occasion as Mr. Herder had given the general course ofthe suit to be; after every opening of a matter on Winthrop'spart, the Chancellor would say, very curtly, "I allow that exception! Mr. Brick, what have you got to say?"--

Mr. Brick generally had a good deal to say. He seemed tomultiply his defences in proportion to the little he had todefend; in strong contrast to his antagonist's short, nervous, home-thrust arguments. The Court generally seemed tired withMr. Brick. 

"Oh that man! -- I wish he would stop!" said Rose. 

Elizabeth, who for the most part was as still as a mouse, glanced round at these words, one of her few and raresecondings of anything said by her cousin. She did not knowthat her glance shewed cheeks of fire, and eyes all the powerof which seemed to be in full life. 

"Can you understand that man?" said the naturalist. 

"He don't understand himself, " said Elizabeth. 

"I don't understand anybody, " said Rose. "But I like to hearthe Chancellor speak -- he's so funny, -- only I'm gettingtired. I wish he would stop that man. Oh that Mr. Brick! -- Nowsee the Chancellor! --"

"I've decided that point, Mr. Brick!"

Mr. Brick could not think it decided. At least it seemed so, for he went on. 

"What a stupid man!" said Rose. 

"He will have the last word, " said Mr. Herder. 

"Miss Haye, are _you_ tired?" asked Mr. Satterthwaite, leaningpast the white feather. 

"I? -- No. "

"I am, " said Rose. "And so is the Chancellor. Now look at him--"

"Mr. Brick -- I have decided that point!" came from the lips ofMr. Justice, a little more curtly than before. 

"Now he will stop, --" said Rose. 

No -- Mr. Brick was unmoveable. 

"Very well!" said the Chancellor, throwing himself half wayround on his chair with a jerk -- "you may go on, and I'll readthe newspaper! --"

Which he did, amid a general titter that went round thecourtroom, till the discomfited Mr. Brick came to a stand. AndWinthrop rose for his next point. 

"Are you going to wait till it's all done, Mr. Herder?" saidRose. "I'm tired to death. Lizzie -- Lizzie!" -- she urged, pulling her cousin's shoulder. 

"What!" said Elizabeth, giving her another sight of the sameface that had flashed upon her half an hour before. 

"My goodness!" said Rose. "What's the matter with you?"

"What do you want? --" said Elizabeth with a sort of fieryimpatience, into which not a little disdain found its way. 

"You are not interested, are you?" said Rose with a satiricalsmile. 

"Of course I am!" --

"In that man, Lizzie?"

"What do you want!" said Elizabeth, answering the whisper in aplain voice. 

"I want to go home. "

"I'm not ready to go yet. "

And her head went round to its former position. 

"Lizzie -- Lizzie!" urged Rose in a whisper, -- "How can youlisten to that man! -- you oughtn't to. -- Lizzie! --"

"Hush, Rose! be quiet! -- I _will_ listen. Let me alone. "

Nor could Rose move her again by words, whispers, or pulls ofher shoulder. "I am not ready, " --she would coolly reply. Mrs. Haye was in despair, but constrained to keep it to herself forfear she should be obliged to accept an escort home, andbecause of an undefined unwillingness to leave Elizabeth therealone. She had to wait, and play the agreeable to Mr. Satterthwaite, for both her other companions were busylistening; until Winthrop had finished his argument, and theChancellor had nodded, "I allow that exception, Mr. Landholm -- it is well taken -- Mr. Brick, what have you to say?" --

Mr. Brick rose to respond. Elizabeth rose too then, and facedabout upon her companions, giving them this silent notice, forshe deigned no word, that she was willing Rose's pleasureshould take its course. Mr. Satterthwaite was quite ready, andthey went home; Elizabeth changed to an automaton again. 

But when she got into her own room she sat down, withouttaking off her bonnet, to think. 

"This is that farmer's boy that father wouldn't help -- andthat he has managed to separate from himself -- and from me!What did I go there for to-day? Not for my own happiness -- Andnow perhaps I shall never see him again. But I am glad I didgo; -- if that is the last. "

And spring months and summer months succeeded each other; andshe did not see him again. 

CHAPTER VII

Since he doth lackOf going backLittle, whose willDoth urge him to run wrong, or to stand still. BEN JONSON. 

One of the warm evenings in that summer, when the windows wereall open of Winthrop's attic and the candles flared in thesoft breeze from the sea, Rufus came in. Winthrop only gavehim a look and a smile from his papers as he appeared; andRufus flung himself, or rather dropped down, upon the emptycouch where Winnie used to lie. Perhaps the thought of hercame to him, for he looked exceedingly sober; only he had donethat ever since he shewed his face at the door. For someminutes he sat in absorbed contemplation of Winthrop, or ofsomewhat else; he was certainly looking at him. Winthroplooked at nothing but his papers; and the rustling of them wasall that was heard, beside the soft rush of the wind. 

"Always at work?" said Rufus, in a dismal tone, halfdesponding and wholly disconsolate. 

"Try to be. --"

"Why don't you snuff those candles?" was the next question, given with a good deal more life. 

"I didn't know you wanted more light, " said Winthrop, stoppingto put in order the unruly wicks his brother referred to. 

"What are you at there?"

"A long answer in chancery. "

"Ryle's?"

"No -- Mr. Eversham's case. "

"How does Ryle's business get on?"

"Very satisfactorily. I've got light upon that now. "

"What's the last thing done?"

"The last thing I did was to file a replication, bringing thecause to an issue for proofs; and proofs are now taking beforean Examiner. "

"You have succeeded in every step in that cause?"

"In every step. "

"The steps must have been well taken. "

Winthrop was silent, going on with his 'answer. '

"How much do you expect you'll get from them?"

"Can't tell yet. I somewhat expect to recover a very largesum. "

"Winthrop -- I wish I was a lawyer --" Rufus said presently witha sigh. 

"Why?" said his brother calmly. 

"I should -- or at least I might -- be doing something. "

"Then you think all the work of the world rests upon theshoulders of lawyers? I knew they had a good deal to do, butnot so much as that. "

"I don't see anything for me to do, " Rufus said despondingly. 

Rufus got off his couch and began gloomily to walk up anddown. 

"How easily those who are doing well themselves can bear theill haps of their friends!" he said. 

Winthrop went back to his papers and studied them, with hisusual calm face and in silence, for some time. Rufus walkedand cogitated for half an hour. 

"I ought not to have said that, Winthrop, " were his firstwords. "But now look at me!"

"With pleasure, " said Winthrop laying down his 'answer' -- "Ihave looked at many a worse man. "

"Can't you be serious?" said Rufus, a provoked smile forcingitself upon him. 

"I thought I was rarely anything else, " said Winthrop. "Butnow I look at you, I don't see anything in the world thematter. "

"Yet look at our different positions -- yours and mine. "

"I'd as lieve be excused, " said Winthrop. "You always made thebest show, in any position. "

"Other people don't think so, " said Rufus, turning with acurious struggle of feeling in his face, and turning to hideit in his walk up and down. 

"What ails you, Will? -- I don't know what you mean. "

"You deserve it!" said Rufus, swallowing something in his mindapparently, that cost him some trouble. 

"I don't know what I deserve, " said Winthrop gravely. "I amafraid I have not got it. "

"How oddly and rightly we were nicknamed in childhood!" Rufuswent on bitterly, half communing with himself. -- "I for fieryimpulse, and you for calm rule. "

"I don't want to rule, " said Winthrop half laughing. "And Iassure you I make no effort after it. "

"You do it, and always will. You have the love and respect andadmiration of everybody that knows you -- in a very highdegree; and there is not a soul in the world that cares forme, except yourself. "

"I do not think that is true, Will, " said Winthrop after alittle pause. "But even suppose it were -- those are not thethings one lives for. "

"What _does_ one live for then!" Rufus said almost fiercely. 

"At least they are not what I live for, " said Winthropcorrecting himself. 

"What do _you_ live for?"

His brother hesitated. 

"For another sort of approbation -- That I may hear 'Welldone, ' from the lips of my King, -- by and by. "

Rufus bit his lip and for several turns walked the room insilence -- evidently because he could not speak. Perhaps thewords, 'Them that honour me, I will honour, ' -- might have cometo his mind. But when at last he began to talk, it was notupon that theme. 

"Governor, " -- he said in a quieter tone, -- "I wish you wouldhelp me. "

"I will -- if I can. "

"Tell me what I shall do. "

"Tell me your own thoughts first, Will. "

"I have hardly any. The world at large seems a wretched andutter blank to me. "

"Make your mark on it, then. "

"Ah! -- that is what we used to say. -- I don't see how it is tobe done. "

"It is to be done in many ways, Rufus; in many courses ofaction; and there is hardly one you can set your hand to, inwhich it may not be done. "

Rufus again struggled with some feeling that was too much forhim. 

"Your notions have changed a little from the old ones, -- and Ihave kept mine, " he said. 

"I spoke of _making your mark_, -- not of being seen to do it, "his brother returned. 

Again Rufus was silent. 

"Well but the question is not of that now, " he said, "but ofdoing _something;_ -- to escape from the dishonour and the miseryof doing nothing. "

"Still you have not told me your thoughts, Will. You are notfit for a merchant. "

"I'll never enter a counting-house again! -- for anything!" wasRufus's reply. 

"If I were in your place, I should take up my old trade ofengineering again, just where I left it off. "

Rufus walked, and walked. 

"But I am fit for better things, " -- he said at length. 

"Then you are fit for that. "

"I suppose that follows, " said Rufus with some disdainfulexpression. 

"There is no more respectable profession. "

"It gives a man small chance to distinguish himself, " saidRufus, -- "and it takes one out of the world. "

"Distinction may be attained almost anywhere, " said Winthrop. 

"'Who sweeps a room as for thy laws, "'Makes that and th' action fine. '"

"I should like to see _you_ do it!" was Rufus's scornfulrejoinder. 

"What?"

"Sweep rooms by way of distinction. "

"I don't know about the distinction, " said Winthrop; "but the_thing_ you may see me do any morning, if you come at the righthour. "

"Sweep these rooms?"

"With a broomstick. "

"Why Winthrop, that's beneath you!"

"I have been thinking so lately, " said Winthrop. "It wasn't, in the days when I couldn't afford to pay any one for doingit; and those days reached down to a very late point. "

"Afford!" said Rufus, standing still in his walk; -- "Why youhave made money enough ever since you began practice, toafford such a thing as that. "

"Ay -- if I could have put it all on the floor. "

"Where had you to put it?"

"I had Mr. Inchbald to reward for his long trust in me, andMr. Herder to reimburse for his kindness, -- and some othersources of expenditure to meet. "

"Mr. Herder could have been paid out of the costs of thislawsuit. "

"No, he couldn't. "

"And thereupon, you would recommend the profession of astreet-sweeper to me!" said Rufus, beginning his walk withrenewed energy. 

"On the whole, I think I would not, " said Winthrop gravely. "Iam of opinion you can do something better. "

"I don't like engineering!" said Rufus presently. 

"What _do_ you like?"

Rufus stopped and stood looking thoughtfully on the tablewhere Winthrop's papers lay. 

"I consider that, to be as honourable, as useful, and Ishould think quite as pleasant a way of life, as the one Ifollow. "

"Do you? --" said Rufus, looking at the long 'answer inChancery. '

"I would as lieve go into it to-morrow, and make over myinkstand to you, if I were only fit for that and you forthis. "

"Would you!" said Rufus, mentally conceding that his brotherwas 'fit' for anything. 

"Just as lieve. "

Rufus's brow lightened considerably, and he took up his walkagain. 

"What would you like better, Will?"

"I don't know --" said Rufus meditatively -- "I believe I'lltake your advice. There was an offer made to me a week or twoago -- at least I was spoken to, in reference to a Southernpiece of business --"

"Not another agency?"

"No -- no, engineering; -- but I threw it off, not thinkingthen, or not knowing, that I would have anything more to dowith the matter -- I dare say it's not too late yet. "

"But Will, " said his brother, "whatever choice you make now, it is your last choice. "

"How do you know it is my last choice?" said Rufus. 

"Because it ought to be. "

Rufus took to silence and meditating again. 

"Any profession rightly managed, will carry you to the goal ofhonour; but no two will, ridden alternately. "

"It seems so, " said Rufus bitterly. 

And he walked and meditated, back and forth through the room;while Winthrop lost himself in his 'answer. ' The silencelasted this time till Rufus came up to the table and extendinghis hand bid his brother 'good night. '

"Are you going?" said Winthrop starting up. 

"Yes -- going; and going South, and going to be an engineer, and if possible to reach the goal of honour on the back ofthat calling, by some mysterious road which as yet I see not. "

"Stay here to-night, Will. "

"No, I can't -- I've got to see somebody. "

"All night?"

"Why, no, " said Rufus smiling. "I suppose I could come back;more especially as I am going bona fide away. By the way, Winthrop, do you know they say the yellow fever is here?"

"I know they say so. "

"What will you do?"

"Nothing. "

"I mean, of course, if the report is true. "

"So I mean. "

"But you will not stay here?"

"I think I will. "

"But it would be much better to go out of town. "

"If I think so, I'll go. "

"I'll make you think so, " said Rufus putting on his hat, -- "orelse I won't go engineering! I'll be back in an hour. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

Yea, men may wonder, while they scanA living, thinking, feeling man, In such a rest his heart to keep;But angels say, -- and through the wordI ween their blessed smile is heard, --"He giveth his beloved sleep!"ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. 

Notwithstanding however Rufus's assurance, he did go off tohis engineering and he did not succeed in changing hisbrother's mind. Winthrop abode in his place, to meet whateverthe summer had in store for him. 

It brought the city's old plague, though not with such fearfulpresence as in years past. Still the name and the dread of itwere abroad, and enough of its power to justify them. Manythat could, ran away from the city; and business, if it wasnot absolutely checked, moved sluggishly. There was much lessthan usual done. 

There was little in Winthrop's line, certainly. Yet in thedays of vacant courts and laid-by court business, the tenantof Mr. Inchbald's attic went out and came in as often asformerly. What he did with his time was best known to himself. 

"I wonder how he does, now, all alone, " said Mrs. Nettley toher brother. 

"I've a notion he isn't so much of the time alone, " said Mr. Inchbald. "He's not at home any more than he used to be, norso much. I hear him going up or down the stairs -- night andday. "

"Surely there are no courts now?" said Mrs. Nettley. 

"Never are in August -- and especially not now, of course. "

"I'm afraid he's lonesome, poor fellow!"

"Never saw a fellow look less like it, " said Mr. Inchbald. "He's a strong man, he is, in his heart and mind. I shouldexpect to see one of the pyramids of Egypt come down as soonas either of 'em. Lonesome? I _never_ saw him look lonesome. "

"He has a trick of not shewing what he feels then, " said hissister. "I've seen him times when I know he _felt_ lonesome, --though as you say, I can't say he shewed it. He's a strongbuild of a man, too, George. "

"Like body, like mind, " said her brother. "Yes. I like to seea man all of a piece. But his brother has a finer figure. "

"Do you think so?" said Mrs. Nettley. "That's for a painter. Now I like Winthrop's the best. "

"That's for a woman, " said Mr. Inchbald laughing. "You alwayslike what you love. "

"Well, what do you suppose he finds to keep him out so much ofthe time?"

"I don't know, " said Mr. Inchbald, -- "and I daren't ask him. Idoubt some poor friends of his know. "

"Why do you?"

"I can't tell you why; -- something -- the least trifle, once ortwice, has given me the idea. "

"He's a Christian to look at!" said Mrs. Nettley, busyingherself round her stove and speaking in rather an undertone. "He's worse than a sermon to me, many times. "

Her brother turned slowly and went out, thereby confessing, his sister thought, that Winthrop had been as bad as a sermonto him. 

As he went out he saw a girl just mounting the stairs. 

"Is Mr. Landholm in?" she said putting her head over thebalusters. 

"I don't know, my girl -- I think he may be. "

"I'll know before long, " she rejoined, taking the stairs at arate that shewed she meant what she said. Like no client atlaw that ever sought his lawyer's chambers, on any errand. Before Mr. Inchbald had reached the first landing, she wasposted before the desired door, and had tapped there with veryalert fingers. Winthrop opened the door. 

"Clam!" -- said he. -- "Come in. "

"Mr. Winthrop, " said Clam, coming in as slowly as she hadmounted the stairs fast, and speaking with unusualdeliberation, and not in the least out of breath, -- "don't youwant to help the distressed?"

"What's the matter, Clam?"

"Why Mr. Haye's took, and Miss 'Lizabeth's all alone with him;and she's a little too good to be let die of fright and worry, if she ain't perfect. Few people are. "

"All alone!"

"She's keeping house with him all alone this minute. "

"What do you mean by all alone?"

"When there ain't but two people in the house and one o'them's deathly sick. "

"Where are the servants? and Mrs. Haye?"

"They was all afraid they'd be took -- she and them both; sothey all run -- the first one the best feller. I stayed, 'causeI thought the yaller fever wouldn't do much with one o' myskin; and anyhow it was as good to die in the house as in thestreet -- I'd rather. "

"When did they go?" said Winthrop beginning to put up booksand papers. 

"Cleared out this mornin' -- as soon as they knowed what wasthe matter with Mr. Haye. "

"His wife too?" said Winthrop. 

"Not she! _she_ went off for fear she'd be scared -- years ago. "

"Has Miss Haye sent for no friends?"

"She says there ain't none to send to; and I guess thereain't. "

"Run home to your mistress, Clam, as fast as you can. -- Whenwas Mr. Haye taken sick?"

"Some time yesterday. Then you're comin', Mr. Winthrop?"

"Yes. Run. "

Clam ran home. But quick as her speed had been, when she gotthe handle of the door in her hand she saw a figure that sheknew, coming down the street; and waited for him to come up. Winthrop and she passed into the house together. 

The gentleman turned into one of the deserted parlours; andClam with a quick and soft step ran up stairs and into thesick room. Mr. Haye lay there unconscious. Elizabeth wassitting by the side of the bed, with a face of stern andconcentrated anxiety. 

"Here's the stuff, " said Clam, setting some medicine on thetable; -- "and there's a gentleman down stairs that wants tosee you, Miss 'Lizabeth -- on business. "

"Business!" said Elizabeth, -- "Did you tell him what was inthe house?"

"I told him, " said Clam, "and he don't care. He wants to seeyou. "

Elizabeth had no words to waste, nor heart to speak them. Shegot up and went down stairs and in at the open parlour door, like a person who walks in a dream through a dreadfullabyrinth of pain, made up of what used to be familiar objectsof pleasure. So she went in. But so soon as her eye caught thefigure standing before the fireplace, though she did not knowwhat he had come there for, only that he was there, her heartsprang as to a pillar of hope. She stopped short and her twohands were brought together with an indescribable expression, telling of relief. 

"Oh Mr. Landholm! what brought you here!"

He came forward to where she stood and took one of her hands;and felt that she was trembling like a shaking leaf. 

"How is your father?" was his question. 

"I don't know!" said Elizabeth bending down her head whiletears began to run fast, -- "I don't know anything aboutsickness -- I never was with anybody before --"

She had felt one other time the gentle kind hands which, whileher own eyes were blinded with tears, led her and placed heron the sofa. Elizabeth took the sofa cushion in both arms andlaid her head upon it, turning her face from her companion;and her whole frame was racked and shaken with terribleagitation. 

In a few minutes this violent expression of feeling came to anend. She took her arms from the pillow and sat up and spokeagain to the friend at her side; who meanwhile had beenperfectly quiet, offering neither to check nor to comfort her. Elizabeth went back to a repetition of her last remark, as iffor an excuse. 

"I never even tried to nurse anybody before -- and the doctorcouldn't stay with me this morning --"

"I will do both now, " said Winthrop. 

"What?" -- said Elizabeth looking at him bewilderedly. 

"Stay with you, and take care of Mr. Haye. "

"Oh no! you must not!" she said with a sort of eagerseriousness; -- "I shouldn't like to have you. "

"I have seen something of the disease, " he said smilingslightly, "and I am not afraid of it. -- Are you?"

"Oh yes! -- oh yes!!"

How much was confessed in the tone of those words! -- and shehid her face again. But her companion made no remark. 

"Is there no friend you would like to have sent for?"

"No, " said Elizabeth, -- "not one! not one here -- and notanywhere, that I should care to have with me. "

"May I go up and see Mr. Haye now?" he said presently. "Whichis the room?"

Elizabeth rose up to shew him. 

"No, " he said, gently motioning her back, -- "I am going alone. You must stay here. "

"But I must go too, Mr. Landholm! --"

"Not if I go, " he said. 

"But I am his daughter, -- I must. "

"I am not his daughter -- so as far as that goes we are even. And by your own confession you know nothing of the matter; andI do. No -- you must not go above this floor. "

"Until when, Mr. Landholm?" said Elizabeth looking terrified. 

"Until new rules are made, " he said quietly. "While you can donothing in your father's room, both for him and for you it ismuch better that you should not be there. "

"And can't I do anything?" said Elizabeth. 

"If I think you are wanted, I will let you know. Meanwhilethere is one thing that can be done everywhere. "

He spoke, looking at her with a face of steady kind gravity. Elizabeth could not meet it; she trembled with the effort shemade to control herself. 

"It is the thing of all others that I cannot do, Mr. Landholm. "

"Learn it now, then. Which is the room?"

Elizabeth told him, without raising her eyes; and stoodmotionless on the floor where he left her, without stirring afinger, as long as she could hear the sound of his footsteps. They went first to the front door, and she heard him turn thekey; then they went up the stairs. 

The locking of that door went to her heart, with a sense ofcomfort, of dependence, of unbounded trust in the hand, theheart, the head, that had done it. It roused, or the takingoff of restraint roused again, all the tumult of passions thathad raged after her first coming in. She dropped on her kneesby the sofa and wrapping her arms round the cushion as she haddone before, she laid her head down on it, and to all feelinglaid her heart down too; such bitter and deep and long sobsshook and racked her breast. 

She was alive to nothing but feeling and the indulgence of it, and careless how much time the indulgence of it might take. Itwas passion's time. She was startled when two hands took holdof her and a grave voice said, "If you do in this way, I shall have two patients instead ofone, Miss Elizabeth. "

Elizabeth suffered herself to be lifted up and placed on thesofa, and sat down like a child. Even at the instant came aflash of recollection bringing back the time, long past, whenWinthrop had lifted her out of the rattlesnake's way. She feltashamed and rebuked. 

"This is not the lesson I set you, " he said gently. 

Elizabeth's head drooped lower. She felt that he _had_ twopatients -- if he had only known it!

"You might set me a great many lessons that I should be slowto learn, Mr. Landholm, " she said sadly. 

"I hope not, " he said in his usual tone. "There is no presentoccasion for this distress. I cannot see that Mr. Haye'symptoms are particularly unfavourable. "

Elizabeth could have answered a great deal to that; but sheonly said, tearfully, "How good you are to take care of him!"

"I will be as good as I can, " said he smiling a little. "Ishould like to have you promise to do as much. "

"That would be to promise a great deal, Mr. Landholm, " saidElizabeth looking up earnestly. 

"What then?"

Elizabeth looked down and was silent, but musing much toherself. 

"Is it too much of a promise to make?" said he gravely. 

"No --" said Elizabeth slowly, -- "but more than I am ready tomake. "

"Why is that?"

"Because, Mr. Landholm, " said she looking up again at him, "Idon't believe I should keep it if I made it. "

"You expect me to say, in that case you are quite right not tomake it. No, -- you are quite wrong. "

He waited a little; but said no more, and Elizabeth could not. Then he left the room and she heard him going _down stairs!_ Herfirst thought was to spring up and go after to help him towhatever he wanted; then she remembered that he and Clam couldmanage it without her, and that he would certainly choose tohave it so. She curled herself up on her sofa and laying herhead on the cushion in more quiet wise, she went off into along fit of musing; for Winthrop's steps, when they came fromdown stairs went straight up stairs again, without turninginto the parlour. She mused, on her duty, her danger, hersorrow and her joy. There was something akin to joy in theenormous comfort, rest, and pleasure she felt in Winthrop'spresence. But it was very grave musing after all; for herduty, or the image of it, she shrank from; her danger sheshrank from more unequivocally; and joy and sorrow could buthold a mixed and miserable reign. The loss of her father couldnot be to Elizabeth what the loss of his mother had been toWinthrop. Mr. Haye had never made himself a part of hisdaughter's daily inner life; to her his death could be onlythe breaking of the old name and tie and associations, whichof late years had become far less dear than they used to be. Yet to Elizabeth, who had nothing else, they were very much;and she looked to the possible loss of them as to a wild anddreary setting adrift upon the sea of life without harbour orshore to make anywhere. And then rose the shadowy image of afair port and land of safety, which conscience whispered shecould gain if she would. But sailing was necessary for that;and chart-studying; and watchful care of the ship, and many anobservation taken by heavenly lights; and Elizabeth had noteven begun to be a sailor. She turned these things over andover in her mind a hundred times, one after another, like thevisions of a dream, while the hours of the day stole awaynoiselessly. 

The afternoon waned; the doctor came. Elizabeth sprang out tomeet him, referred him to her coadjutor up stairs, and thenwaited for his coming down again. But the doctor when he camecould tell her nothing; there was no declarative symptom asyet; he knew no more than she did; she must wait. She wentback to her sofa and her musing. 

The windows were open, but with the sultry breath of Augustlittle din of business came into the room; the place was veryquiet. The house was empty and still; seldom a footfall couldbe heard overhead. Clam was busy, up stairs and down, but shewent with a light step when she pleased, and she pleased itnow. It was a relief to have the change of falling night; andthen the breeze from the sea began to come in at the windowsand freshen the hot rooms; and twilight deepened. Elizabethwished for a light then, but for once in her life hesitatedabout ringing the bell; for she had heard Clam going up anddown and feared she might be busied for some one else. And shethought, with a heart full, how dismal this coming on of nightwould have been, but for the friend up stairs. Elizabethwished bitterly she could follow his advice. 

She sat looking out of the open window into the duskiness, andat the yellow lights of the street lamps which by this timespotted it; thinking so, and feeling very miserable. By and byClam came in with a candle and began to let down the blinds. 

"What are you going to do?" said her mistress. "You needn'tpull those down. "

"Folks'll see in, " said Clam. 

"No they won't -- there's no light here. "

"There's goin' to be, though, " said Clam. "Things is goin'straight in this house, as two folks can make 'em. "

"I don't want anything -- you may let the lamps alone, Clam. "

"I dursn't, " said Clam, going on leisurely to light the twolarge burners of the mantle lamps, -- "Mr. Winthrop told me toget tea for you and do everything just as it was every night;so I knowed these had to be flarin' up -- You ain't goin' to beallowed to sit in the shades no longer. "

"I don't want anything!" said Elizabeth. "Don't bring any teahere. "

"Then I'll go up and tell him his orders is contradickied, "said Clam. 

"Stop!" said her mistress when she had reached the doorwalking off, -- "don't carry any foolish speech up stairs atsuch a time as this; -- fetch what you like and do what youlike, -- I don't care. "

The room was brilliantly lighted now; and Clam set the salveron the table and brought in the tea-urn; and miserable as shefelt, Elizabeth half confessed to herself that her coadjutorup stairs was right. Better this pain than the other. If thebody was nothing a gainer, the mind perhaps might be, forkeeping up the wonted habits and appearances. 

"Ask Mr. Landholm to come down, Clam. "

"I did ask him, " said the handmaiden, "and he don't wantnothin' but biscuits, and he's got lots o' them. "

"Won't he have a cup of tea?"

"He knows his own mind mostly, " said Clam; "and he says hewon't. "

"What arrangements can you make for his sleeping up there to-night, Clam?"

"Him and me 'll see to it, " responded Clam confidently. "Iknow pretty much what's in the house; and the best of it ain'ttoo good for him. "

So Elizabeth drank her cup of tea alone; and sat alone throughthe long evening and mused. For still it was rather musingthan thinking; going over things past and things present;things future she cared not much to meddle with. It was not agood time, she said, for taking up her religious wants andduties; and in part that was true, severely as she felt them;for her mind was in such a slow fever that none of its pulseswere healthful. Fear, and foreboding, for her father and forherself, -- hope springing along with the fear; a strong sensethat her character was different from what it ought to be, anda strong wish that it were not, -- and a yet mightier leaningin another direction; -- all of these, meeting and modifyingeach other and struggling together, seemed to run in her veinsand to tell in each beat of the tiny timekeeper at her wrist. How could she disentangle one from the other, or give a quietmind to anything, when she had it not to give?

She was just bitterly asking herself this question, whenWinthrop came in at the open parlour door; and the immediatebitter thought which arose next was, did he ever have any _but_a quiet mind to give to anything? The two bitters were sostrong upon her tongue that they kept it still; till he hadwalked up to the neighbourhood of her sofa. 

"How is my father, Mr. Landholm?" she said rising and meetinghim. 

"As you mean the question I cannot answer it -- There isnothing declarative, Miss Elizabeth. Yes, " he said kindly, meeting and answering her face, -- "you must wait yet awhilelonger. "

Elizabeth sat down again, and looked down. 

"Are you troubled with fears for yourself?" he said gently, taking a chair near her. 

"No --" Elizabeth said, and said truly. She could have toldhim, what indeed she could not, that since his coming into thehouse another feeling had overmastered that fear, and kept itunder. 

"At least, " she added, -- "I suppose I have it, but it doesn'ttrouble me now. "

"I came down on principle, " said he, -- "to exchange the officeof nurse for that of physician; -- thinking it probably betterthat you should see me for a few minutes, than see nobody atall. "

"I am sure you were right, " said Elizabeth. "I felt awhile agoas if my head would go crazy with too many thoughts. "

"Must be unruly thoughts, " said Winthrop. 

"They were, " said she looking up. 

"Can't you manage unruly thoughts?"

"No! -- never could. "

"Do you know what happens in that case? -- They manage you. "

"But how can I help it, Mr. Landholm? There they are, and heream I; -- they are strong and I am weak. "

"If they are the strongest, they will rule. "

Elizabeth sat silent, thinking her counsellor was veryunsatisfactory. 

"Are you going to sit up all night, Miss Elizabeth?"

"No -- I suppose not --"

"I shall; so you may feel easy about being alone down here. There could be no disturbance, I think, without my knowing it. Let Clam be here to keep you company; and take the best restyou can. "

It was impossible for Elizabeth to say a word of thanks, or ofhis kindness; the words choked her; she was mute. 

"Can I do anything, Mr. Landholm?"

"Nothing in the world -- but manage your thoughts, " he saidsmiling. 

Elizabeth was almost choked again, with the rising of tearsthis time. 

"But Mr. Landholm -- about that -- what is wrong cannot benecessary; there must be some way of managing them?"

"You know it, " he said simply. 

But it finished Elizabeth's power of speech. She did not evenattempt to look up; she sat pressing her chin with her hand, endeavouring to keep down her heart and to keep steady herquivering lips. Her companion, who in the midst of all hertroubles she many times that evening thought was unlike anyother person that ever walked, presently went out into thehall and called to Clam over the balusters. 

"Is he going to give her directions about taking care of me?"thought Elizabeth in a great maze, as Winthrop came back intothe parlour and sat down again. When Clam appeared however heonly bade her take a seat; and then bringing forth a biblefrom his pocket he opened it and read the ninety-first psalm. Hardly till then it dawned upon Elizabeth what he was thinkingto do; and then the words that he read went through andthrough her heart like drawn daggers. One after another, oneafter another. Little he imagined, who read, what strength herestimate of the reader's character gave them; nor how thatsame estimate made every word of his prayer tell, and go hometo her spirit with the sharpness as well as the gentleness ofIthuriel's spear. When Elizabeth rose from her knees, it waswith a bowed head which she could in no wise lift up; andafter Winthrop had left the room, Clam stood looking at hermistress and thinking her own thoughts, as long as she pleasedunrebuked. 

"One feels sort o' good after that, now, don't they?" was heropening remark, when Elizabeth's head was at last raised fromher hands. "Do you think the roof of any house would ever fallin over _his_ head? He's better'n a regiment o' soldiers. "

"Is everything attended to down stairs, Clam?"

"All's straight where the Governor is, " said Clam with asweeping bend of her head, and going about to set the room inorder; -- "there ain't two straws laid the wrong way. "

"Where he is!" repeated Elizabeth -- "He isn't in the kitchen, I suppose, Clam. "

"Whenever he's in the house, always seems to me he's allover, " said Clam. "It's about that. He's a governor, you know. Now Miss 'Lizabeth, how am I goin' to fix you for the night?"

"No way, " said Elizabeth. "I shall just sleep here, as I am. Let the lamps burn, and shut down the blinds. "

"And then will I go off to the second story and leave you?"

"No, indeed -- Fetch something that you can lay on the floor, and stay here with me. "

Which Clam presently did; nothing more than a blanket however;and remarked as she curled herself down with her head upon herarm, "Ain't he a handsome man, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"Who? --" ungraciously enough. 

"Why, the Governor. "

"Yes, for aught I know. Lie still and go to sleep, Clam, ifyou can; and let me. "

Very promptly Clam obeyed this command; but her less happymistress, as soon as the deep drawn breaths told her she wasalone again, sat up on her sofa to get in a change of posturea change from pain. 

How alone! -- In the parlour after midnight, with the lampsburning as if the room were gay with company; herself, in hermorning dress, on the sofa for a night's rest, and there onher blanket on the carpet, Clam already taking it. How it toldthe story, of illness and watching and desertion and danger;how it put life and death in near and strong contrast; and thesummer wind blew in through the blinds and pushed the blindsthemselves gently out into the room, just as Elizabeth hadseen and felt in many a bright and happy hour not so longpast. The same summer breath, and the summer so different!Elizabeth could hardly bear it. She longed to rush up stairswhere there was somebody; but then she must not; and then theremembrance that somebody was there quieted her again. Thatthought stirred another train, the old contrast between himand herself, the contrast between his condition and hers, nowbrought more painfully than ever home. "He is ready to meetanything, " she thought, -- "nothing can come amiss to him; -- heis as ready for that world as for this -- and more!" --

The impression of the words he had read that evening came backto her afresh, and the recollection of the face with which hehad read them, -- calm, happy, and at rest; -- and Elizabeththrew herself off the sofa and kneeled down to lay her headand arms upon it, in mere agony of wish to change something, or rather of the felt want that something should be changed. Othat she were at peace like him! O that she had like him asure home and possession beyond the reach of sickness anddeath! O that she were that rectified, self-contained, pure, strong spirit, that he was! -- The utmost of passionate wishwas in the tears that wept out these yearnings of heart --petitions they half were, -- for her mind in giving them form, had a half look to the only possible power that could givethem fruition. But it was with only the refreshment of tearsand exhaustion that she laid herself on her couch and went tosleep. 

Clam had carried away her blanket bed and put out the lamps, before Elizabeth awoke the next morning. It was a questionwhether the room looked drearier by night or by day. She gotup and went to the window. Clam had pulled up the blinds. Thelight of the summer morning was rising again, but it shoneonly without; all was darkness inside. Except that light-surrounded watcher up stairs. How Elizabeth's heart blessedhim. 

The next thing was, to get ready to receive his report. Thatmorning's toilet was soon made, and Elizabeth sat waiting. Hemight come soon, or he might not; for it was early, and hemight not know whether she was awake and risen yet. She wasunaccustomed, poor child, to a waiting of pain; and her heartfelt tired and sore already from the last forty-eight hours offears and hopes. Fears and hopes were in strong life now, buta life that had become very tender to every touch. Clam wassetting the breakfast-table -- Could breakfast be eaten or not?The very cups and saucers made Elizabeth's heart ache. She wasglad when Clam had done her work and was gone and she satwaiting alone. But the breaths came painfully now, and herheart was weary with its own aching. 

The little knock at the door came at last. Elizabeth ran toopen it, and exchanged a silent grasp of the hand with thenewsbearer; her eyes looked her question. He came in just ashe came last night; calm and grave. 

"I can tell you nothing new, Miss Elizabeth, " he said. "Icannot see that Mr. Haye is any better -- I do not know that heis any worse. "

But Elizabeth was weak to bear longer suspense; she burst intotears and sat down hiding her face. Her companion stood near, but said nothing further. 

"May I call Clam?" he asked after a few minutes. 

Elizabeth gave eager assent; and the act of last night wasrepeated, to her unspeakable gratification. She drank in everyword, and not only because she drank in the voice with them. 

"Breakfast's just ready, Mr. Winthrop, " said Clam when she wasleaving the room; -- "so you needn't go up stairs. "

The breakfast was a very silent one on Elizabeth's part. Winthrop talked on indifferent subjects; but she was too full-hearted and too sick-hearted to answer him with many words. And when the short meal was ended and he was about quittingthe parlour she jumped up and followed him a step or two. 

"Mr. Winthrop -- won't you say a word of comfort to me beforeyou go? --"

He saw she needed it exceedingly; and came back and sat downon the sofa with her. 

"I don't know what to say to you better than this, MissElizabeth, " he said, turning over again the leaves of hislittle bible; -- "I came to it in the course of my reading thismorning; and it comforted me. "

He put the book in her hands, but Elizabeth had to clear hereyes more than once from hot tears, before she could read thewords to which he directed her. 

"And there shall be a tabernacle for a shadow in the daytimefrom the heat, and for a place of refuge, and for a covertfrom storm and from rain. "

Elizabeth looked at it. 

"But I don't understand it, Mr. Landholm?" she said, raisingher eyes to his face. 

He said nothing; he took the book from her and turning a fewleaves over, put it again in her hands. Elizabeth read; --

"And a man shall be as an hiding-place from the wind, and acovert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place; asthe shadow of a great rock in a thirsty land. "

"Is that plainer?" he asked. 

"It means the Saviour?" said Elizabeth. 

"Certainly it does! To whom else should we go?"

"But Mr. Landholm, " said Elizabeth after a minute's struggle, "why do you shew me this, when you know I can do nothing withit?"

"_Will_ you do nothing?" he said. 

The words implied that she could; an implication she would notdeny; but her answer was another burst of tears. And with thebook in her hand he left her. 

The words were well studied that day! by a heart feeling theblast of the tempest and bitterly wanting to hide itself fromthe wind. But the fact of her want and of a sure remedy, wasall she made clear; how to match the one with the other shedid not know. The book itself she turned over with thecuriosity and the interest of fresh insight into character. Itwas well worn, and had been carefully handled; it lay openeasily anywhere, and in many places various marks ofpencilling shewed that not only the eyes but the mind of itsowner had been all over it. It was almost an awful book toElizabeth's handling. It seemed a thing too good to be in herhold. It bore witness to its owner's truth of character, andto her own consequent being far astray; it gave her an openingsuch as she never had before to look into his mind and lifeand guess at the secret spring and strength of them. Of manyof the marks of his pencil she could make nothing at all; shecould not divine why they had been made, nor what couldpossibly be the notable thing in the passage pointed out; andlonging to get at more of his mind than she could in onemorning's hurried work, she found another bible in the houseand took off a number of his notes, for future and moreleisurely study. 

It was a happy occupation for her that day. No other couldhave so softened its exceeding weariness and sadness. Thedoctor gave her no comfort. He said he could tell nothing _yet;_and Elizabeth could not fancy that this delay of amendmentgave any encouragement to hope for it. She did not seeWinthrop at dinner. She spent the most of the day over hisbible. Sickness of heart sometimes made her throw it aside, but so surely sickness of heart made her take it up again. 

The thought of Winthrop himself getting sick, did once ortwice look in through the window of Elizabeth's mind; but hermind could not take it in. She had so much already to bear, that this tremendous possibility she could not bear so much asto look at; she left it a one side; and it can hardly benumbered among her recognized causes of trouble. 

The day wore to an end. The evening and the sea-breeze cameagain. The lamps were lit and the table dressed with thesalver and tea-urn. And Elizabeth was thankful the day wasover; and waited impatiently for her friend to make hisappearance. 

She thought he looked thoughtfuller than ever when he came. That might have been fancy. 

"I don't know, Miss Elizabeth, " he said, taking her hand as hehad done in the morning, and answering her face. "We must waityet. -- How have you borne the day?"

"I have borne it by the help of your book, " she said lookingdown at it and trembling. 

"You could have no better help, " he said with a little sigh, as he turned away to the table, -- "except that of the Authorof it. "

The tea was very silent, for even Winthrop did not talk much;and very sad, for Elizabeth could hardly hold her head up. 

"Mr. Winthrop, " she said when he rose, -- "can you give me aminute or two before you go? -- I want to ask you a question. "

"Certainly, " -- he said; and waited, both standing, while sheopened his bible and found the place he had shewed her in themorning. She shewed it to him now. 

"This -- I don't quite understand it. -- I see what is spokenof, and the need of it, -- but -- how can I make it my own?"

She looked up as she put the question, with most earnest eyes, and lips that only extreme determination kept from giving way. He looked at her, and at his book. 

"By giving your trust to the Maker of the promise. "

"How? --"

"The same unquestioning faith and dependence that you wouldgive to any sure and undoubted refuge of human strength. "

Elizabeth looked down and pressed her hands close togetherupon her breast. She knew so well how to give that! -- solittle how to give the other. 

"Do you understand what Christ requires of those who wouldfollow him?"

"No, " she said looking up again, -- "not clearly -- hardly atall. "

"One is -- that you give up everything, even in thought, thatis contrary to his authority. "

He was still, and so was she, both looking at each other. 

"That is what is meant by repentance. The other thing is, --that you trust yourself for all your wants -- from theforgiveness of sin, to the supply of this moment's need, -- tothe strength and love of Jesus Christ; -- and that because hehas paid your price and bought you with his own blood. "

"You mean, " said Elizabeth slowly, "that his life was given inplace of mine. "

Winthrop was silent. Elizabeth stood apparently considering. 

"'Everything that is contrary to his authority'" -- she addedafter a minute, -- "how can I know exactly all that?"

He still said nothing, but touched with his finger once ortwice the book in his hand. 

Elizabeth looked, and the tears came to her eyes. 

"You know, --" she said, hesitating a little, -- "whatphysicians say of involuntary muscular resistance, that thephysical frame makes sometimes?"

He answered her with an instant's light of intelligence, andthen with the darkened look of sorrow. But he took his bibleaway with him and said no more. 

Elizabeth sat down and struggled with herself and with thedifferent passions which had been at work in her mind, tillshe was wearied out; and then she slept. 

She waked up in the middle of the night, to find the lampsburning bright and Clam asleep on the floor by her side; sheherself was sitting yet where she had been sitting in theevening, on a low seat with her head on the sofa cushion. Shegot up and with a sort of new spring of hope and cheer, whencecome she knew not, laid herself on the sofa and slept till themorning. 

"You'd best be up, Miss 'Lizabeth, " were Clam's first words. 

"Why?" said Elizabeth springing up. 

"It's time, " said her handmaiden. 

Elizabeth rose from her sofa and put her face and dress insuch order as a few minutes could do. She had but come backfrom doing this, and was standing before the table, whenWinthrop came in. It was much earlier than usual. Elizabethlooked, but he did not answer, the wonted question. He led hergently to the window and placed himself opposite to her. 

"You must leave here, Miss Elizabeth, " he said. 

"Must I?" -- said Elizabeth looking up at him and trembling. 

"You must --" he answered very gently. 

"Why, Mr. Landholm?" Elizabeth dared to say. 

"Because there is no longer any reason why you should stayhere. "

She trembled exceedingly, but though her very lips trembled, she did not cry. He would have placed her on a chair, but sheresisted that and stood still. 

"Where do you want me to go, Mr. Winthrop?" she saidpresently, like a child. 

"I will take you wherever you say -- to some friend's house?"

She caught at his arm and her breath at once, with a kind ofsob; then releasing his arm, she said, "There isn't anywhere. "

"No house in the city?"

She shook her head. 

"If you will let me, I will take you to a safe and quietplace; and as soon as possible away from the city. "

"When?"

"When from here? -- Now, -- as soon as you can be ready. "

Elizabeth's eye wandered vaguely towards the table like aperson in a maze. 

"Mayn't I go up stairs again?" she said, her eye coming backto his. 

"I would rather you did not. "

She gave way then and sat down covering her face with herhands. And sobs as violent as her tremblings had been, heldher for a little while. The moment she could, she rose up andlooked up again, throwing off her tears as it were, though asob now and then even while she was speaking interrupted herbreath. 

"But Mr. Winthrop -- the house, --how can I go and leave it witheverything in it?"

"I will take care, if you will trust me. "

"I will trust you, " she said with running tears. "But you? --"

"I will take care of it and you too. -- I will try to. "

"That was not what I meant --"

"I am safe, " he said. 

He gently seated her; and then going off to Clam at the otherside of the room he bade her fetch her mistress's bonnet andshawl. He himself put them on, and taking her arm in his, theywent forth of the house. 

CHAPTER IX. 

The One remains, the many change and pass;Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows flee;Life, like a dome of many-coloured glassStains the clear radiance of Eternity, Until Death shiver it to atoms. SHELLEY. 

The dawn of the summer morning was just flushing up over thecity, when Winthrop and his trembling companion came out ofthe house. The flush came up upon a fair blue sky, into whichlittle curls of smoke were here and there stealing; and afresh air in the streets as yet held place of the sun's hotbreath. One person felt the refreshment of it, as he descendedthe steps of the house and began a rather swift walk up theParade. But those were very trembling feet that he had toguide during that early walk; though his charge was perfectlyquiet. She did not weep at all; she did not speak, norquestion any of his movements. Neither did he speak. He kept asteady and swift course till they reached Mr. Inchbald's housein Little South Street, and then only paused to open the door. He led Elizabeth up-stairs to his own room, and there and notbefore took her hand from his arm and placed her on a chair. Himself quietly went round the room, opening the windows andaltering the disposition of one or two things. Then he cameback to her where she sat like a statue, and in kind fashionagain took one of her hands. 

"I will see that you are waited upon, " he said gently; "and Iwill send Clam to you by and by for your orders. Will you stayhere for a little while? -- and then I will take care of you. "

How she wished his words meant more than she knew they did. She bowed her head, thinking so. 

"Can I give you anything?"

She managed to say a smothered 'no, ' and he went; firstpulling out of his pocket his little bible which he laid uponthe table. 

Was that by way of answering his own question? It might be, orhe might not have wanted it in his pocket. Whether or no, Elizabeth seized it and drew it towards her, and as if it hadcontained the secret charm and panacea for all her troubles, she laid her hands and her head upon it, and poured out thereher new and her old sorrows; wishing even then that Winthropcould have given her the foundation of strength on which hisown strong spirit rested. 

After a long while, or what seemed such, she heard the doorsoftly open and some one come in. The slow careful step wasnone that she knew, and Elizabeth did not look up till it hadgone out and the door had closed again. It was Mrs. Nettley, and Mrs. Nettley had softly left on the table a waiter ofbreakfast. Elizabeth looked at it, and laid her head downagain. 

The next interruption came an hour later and was a smarterone. Elizabeth had wearied herself with weeping, and laycomparatively quiet on the couch. 

"Miss 'Lizabeth, " said the new-comer, in more gentle wise thanit was her fashion to look or speak, -- "Mr. Winthrop said Iwas to come and get your orders about what you wanted. "

"I can't give orders -- Do what you like, " said Elizabethkeeping her face hid. 

"If I knowed what 'twas, " -- said Clam, sending her eye roundthe room for information or suggestion. "Mr. Winthrop said Iwas to come. -- Why you haven't took no breakfast?"

"I didn't want any. "

"You can't go out o' town that way, " said Clam. "The Governordesired you would take some breakfast, and his orders must befollered. You can't drink cold coffee neither --"

And away went Clam, coffee-pot in hand. 

In so short a space of time that it shewed Clam's businessfaculties, she was back again with the coffee smoking hot. Shemade a cup carefully and brought it to her mistress. 

"You can't do nothin' without it, " said Clam. "Mr. Winthropwould say, 'Drink it' if he was here --"

Which Elizabeth knew, and perhaps considered in swallowing thecoffee. Before she had done, Clam stood at her couch againwith a plate of more substantial supports. 

"He would say 'Eat, ' if he was here --" she remarked. 

"Attend a little to what _I_ have to say, " said her mistress. 

"While you're eatin', " said Clam. "I wasn't to stop to getbreakfast. "

A few words of directions were despatched, and Clam was offagain; and Elizabeth lay still and looked at the strange roomand thought over the strange meaning and significance of herbeing there. A moment's harbour, with a moment's friend. Shewas shiveringly alone in the world; she felt very much at aloss what to do, or what would become of her, She felt it, butshe could not think about it. Tears came again for a longuninterrupted time. 

The day had reached the afternoon, when Clam returned, andcoming into Mrs. Nettley's kitchen inquired if her mistresshad had any refreshment. Mrs. Nettley declared that shedursn't take it up and that she had waited for Clam. Uponwhich that damsel set about getting ready a cup of tea, with asort of impatient promptitude. 

"Have you got all through?" Mrs. Nettley asked in the courseof this preparation. 

"What?" said Clam. 

"Your work. "

"No, " said Clam. "Never expect to. My work don't get done. "

"But has Mr. Landholm got through his work, down at thehouse?"

"Don't know, " said Clam. "He don't tell _me_. But if we was towork on, at the rate we've been a goin' to-day -- we'd do upall Mannahatta in a week or so. "

"What's been so much to do? -- the funeral, I know. "

"The funeral, " said Clam, "and everything else. That was onlyone thing. There was everything to be locked up, andeverything to be put up, and the rest to be packed; and thesilver sent off to the Bank; and everybody to be seen to. Idid all I could, and Mr. Winthrop he did the rest. "

"He'll be worn out!" said Mrs. Nettley. 

"No he won't, " said Clam. "He ain't one o' them that have totry hard to make things go -- works like oiled 'chinery --powerful too, I can tell you. "

"What's going to be done?" said Mrs. Nettley meditatively. 

"Can't say, " said Clam. "I wish my wishes was goin' to be done-- but I s'pose they ain't. People's ain't mostly, in thisworld. " She went off with her dish of tea and what not, to hermistress up-stairs. But Elizabeth this time would endureneither her presence nor her proposal. Clam was obliged to godown again leaving her mistress as she had found her. Alonewith herself. 

Then, when the sun was long past the meridian, Elizabeth heardupon the stair another step, of the only friend, as it seemedto her, that she had. She raised her head and listened to it. The step went past her door, and into the other room, and shesat waiting. "How little he knows, " she thought, "how much ofa friend he is! how little he guesses it. How far he is fromthinking that when he shall have bid me good bye -- somewhere --he will have taken away all of help and comfort I have. --"

But clear and well defined as this thought was in her mind atthe moment, it did not prevent her meeting her benefactor withas much outward calmness as if it had not been there. Yet thequiet meeting of hands had much that was hard to bear. Elizabeth did not dare let her thoughts take hold of it. 

"Have you had what you wanted?" he said, in the way in whichone asks a question of no moment when important ones arebehind. 

"I have had all I could have, " Elizabeth answered. 

There was a pause; and then he asked, "What are your plans, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I haven't formed any. -- I couldn't not, yet. "

"Do you wish to stay in the city, or to go out of it?"

"Oh to go out of it!" said Elizabeth, -- "if I could -- if Iknew where. "

"Where is your cousin?"

"She was at Vantassel; but she left it for some friend's housein the country, I believe. I don't want to be where she is. "

Elizabeth's tears came again. 

"It seems very strange --" she said presently, trying to put astop to them, but her words stopped. 

"What?" said Winthrop. 

"It seems very strange, -- but I hardly know where to go. Ihave no friends near -- no near friends, in any sense; thereare some, hundreds of miles off, in distance, and further thanthat in kind regard. I know plenty of people, but I have nofriends. -- I would go up to Wut-a-qut-o, if there was anybodythere, " she added after a minute or two. 

"Shahweetah has passed into other hands, " said Winthrop. 

"I know it, " said Elizabeth; -- "it passed into mine. "

Winthrop started a little, and then after another moment'spause said quietly, "Are you serious in wishing to go there now?"

"Very serious!" said Elizabeth, "if I had anybody to take careof me. I couldn't be there with only Clam and Karen. "

"You would find things very rough and uncomfortable. "

"What do you suppose I care about how rough?" said Elizabeth. "I would rather be there than in any other place I can thinkof. "

"I am afraid you would still be much alone there -- your ownhousehold would be all. "

"I must be that anywhere, " said Elizabeth bitterly. "I wish Icould be there. "

"Then I will see what I can do, " said he rising. 

"About what?" said Elizabeth. 

"I will tell you if I succeed. "

Mr. Landholm walked down stairs into Mrs. Nettley's sanctum, where the good lady was diligently at work in kitchen affairs. 

"Mrs. Nettley, will you leave your brother and me to keepthings together here, and go into the country with thisbereaved friend of mine?"

Mrs. Nettley stood still with her hands in the dough of herbread and looked at the maker of this extraordinaryproposition. 

"Into the country, Mr. Landholm! -- When?"

"Perhaps this afternoon -- in two or three hours. "

"Dear Mr. Landholm! --"

"Dear Mrs. Nettley. "

"But it's impossible. "

"Is it?"

"Why -- What does she want me for, Mr. Landholm?"

"She is alone, and without friends at hand. She wishes toleave the city and take refuge in her own house in thecountry, but it is uninhabited except by servants. She doesnot know of my application to you, which I make believing itto be a case of charity. "

Mrs. Nettley began to knead her dough with a haste and vigourwhich told of other matters on hand. 

"Will _you_ go, Mr. Landholm?"

"Certainly -- to see you safe there -- and then I will come backand take care of Mr. Inchbald. "

"How far is it, sir?"

"So far as my old home, which Miss Haye has bought. "

"What, Wut -- that place of yours?" said Mrs. Nettley. 

"Yes, " Winthrop said gravely. 

"And how long shall I be wanted, Mr. Landholm?"

"I do not know, Mrs. Nettley. "

Mrs. Nettley hastily cut her dough into loaves and threw itinto the pans. 

"You are going, Mrs. Nettley?"

"Why sir -- in two hours, you say?"

"Perhaps in so little as that -- I am going to see. "

"But Mr. Landholm, " said the good lady, facing round upon himafter bestowing her pans in their place, and looking somewhatconcerned, -- "Mr. Landholm, do you think she will like me? --Miss Haye?"

Winthrop smiled a little. 

"I think she will be very thankful to you, Mrs. Nettley -- Ican answer no further. "

"I suppose it's right to risk that, " Mrs. Nettley concluded. "I'll do what you say, Mr. Landholm. "

Without more words Mr. Landholm went out and left the house. 

"Are Miss Haye's things all ready?" asked Mrs. Nettley ofClam, while she nervously untied her apron. 

"All's ready that _he_ has to do with, " Clam answered a littlecurtly. 

"But has he to do with your mistress's things?"

"He has to do with everything, just now, " said Clam. "I wishthe now'd last for ever!"

"How can we go to-night? -- the boats and the stages and alldon't set off so late. "

"Boats don't stop near Wutsey Qutsey, " said Clam. 

Mrs. Nettley went off to make her own preparations. 

When Mr. Landholm came again, after an interval of somelength, he came with a carriage. 

"Are you ready, Mrs. Nettley?" he said looking into thatlady's quarters. 

"In a little bit, Mr. Landholm! --"

Whereupon he went up-stairs. 

"If you wish to go to Wut-a-qut-o, Miss Elizabeth, " he said, "my friend Mrs. Nettley will go with you and stay with you, till you have made other arrangements. I can answer for herkindness of heart, and unobtrusive manners, and good sense. Would you like her for a companion?"

"I would like anybody -- that you can recommend. "

"My friend Cowslip's little sloop sets sail for theneighbourhood of Wut-a-qut-o this evening. "

"Oh thank you! --Will she take us?"

"If you wish it. "

"Oh thank you! --"

"Would you not be better to wait till to-morrow? -- I can makethe sloop wait. "

"Oh no, let us go, " said Elizabeth rising. "But your friend isvery good -- your friend who is going with me, I mean. "

"Mrs. Nettley. But you need not move yet -- rest while youcan. "

"Rest!" -- said Elizabeth. And tears said what words did not. 

"There is only one rest, " said Winthrop gravely; "and it is inChrist's hand. 'Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavyladen, AND I WILL GIVE YOU REST. '" --

Elizabeth's sobs were bitter. Her counsellor added no morehowever; he left the room after a little while, and soonreturned to tell her that all was ready. She was ready too bythat time. 

"But Mr. Winthrop, " she said looking at him earnestly, "iseverything here so that you can leave it?"

She dared not put the whole of her meaning into words. ButWinthrop understood, and answered a quiet "yes;" and Elizabethlowered her veil and her head together and let him lead her tothe carriage. 

A few minutes brought them to the pier at the end of which theJulia Ann lay. 

"You're sharp upon the time, Mr. Landholm, " said her master; --"we're just goin' to cast off. But we shouldn't have done it, nother, till you come. All right!"

"Is all right in the cabin?" said Winthrop as they came onboard. 

"Well, it's slicked up all it could be on such short notice, "said the skipper. "I guess you wont have to live in it long;the wind's coming up pretty smart ahind us. Haul away there! -- "

It was past six o'clock, and the August sun had much lessenedof its heat, when, as once before with Mr. Landholm for apassenger, the Julia Ann stood out into the middle of theriver with her head set for the North. 

Mrs. Nettley and Clam hid themselves straightway in theprecincts of the cabin. Elizabeth stood still where she hadfirst placed herself on the deck, in a cold abstracted sort ofcarelessness, conscious only that her protector was standingby her side, and that she was not willing to lose sight ofhim. The vessel, and her crew, and their work before her veryeyes, she could hardly be said to see. The sloop got clear ofthe wharf and edged out into the mid-channel, where she stoodbravely along before the fair wind. Slowly the trees andhouses along shore were dropped behind, and fresher the windand fairer the green river-side seemed to become. Elizabeth'ssenses hardly knew it, or only in a kind of underhand way; notrecognized. 

"Will you go into the cabin? or will you have a seat here?"she heard Winthrop say. 

Mechanically she looked about for one. He brought a chair andplaced her in it, and she sat down; choosing rather the openair and free sky than any shut-up place, and his neighbourhoodrather than where he was not; but with a dulled and impassivestate of feeling that refused to take up anything, past, present or future. It was not rest, it was not relief, thoughthere was a seeming of rest about it. She knew then it wouldnot last. It was only a little lull between storms; theenforced quiet of wearied and worn-out powers. She sat mazilytaking in the sunlight, and the view of the sunlighted earthand water, the breath of the sweeping fresh air, the creakingof the sloop's cordage, in the one consciousness that Winthropkept his place at her side all this time. How she thanked himfor that! though she could not ask him to sit down, nor makeany sort of a speech about it. 

Down went the sun, and the shadows and the sunlight were sweptaway together; and yet fresher came the sweet wind. It was asort of consolation to Elizabeth, that her distress gaveWinthrop a right and a reason to attend upon her; she had hadall along a vague feeling of it, and the feeling was verypresent now. It was all of comfort she could lay hold of; andshe clutched at it with even then a foreboding sense of thedesolation there would be when that comfort was gone. She hadit now; she had it, and she held it; and she sat there in herchair on the deck in a curious half stupor, half quiet, hermind clinging to that one single point where it could lean. 

There came a break-up however. Supper was declared to beready; and though nobody but Winthrop attended the skipper'stable, Elizabeth was obliged to take some refreshments of herown, along with a cup of the sloop's tea, which most certainlyshe would have taken from no hand but the one that presentedit to her. And after it, Elizabeth was so strongly advised togo to the cabin and take some rest, that she could not helpgoing; resting, she had no thought of. Her companions were ofeasier mind; for they soon addressed themselves to suchsleeping conveniencies as the little cabin could boast. MissHaye watched them begin and end their preparations and bestowthemselves in resting positions to sleep; and then drawing abreath of comparative rest herself, she placed herself justwithin the cabin threshold, on the floor, where she could lookout and have a good view of the deck through the partly opendoor. 

It was this night as on the former occasion, a brilliantmoonlight; and the vessel had no lamps up to hinder its power. The mast and sails and lines stood out in sharp light andshadow. The man at the helm Elizabeth could not see; themoonlight poured down upon Winthrop, walking slowly back andforth on the deck, his face and figure at every turn givenfully and clearly to view. Elizabeth herself was in shadow; hecould not look within the cabin door and see her; she couldlook out and see him right well, and she did. He was pacingslowly up and down, with a thoughtful face, but so calm in itsthoughtfulness that it was a grievous contrast to Elizabeth'sown troubled and tossed nature. It was all the morefascinating to her gaze; while it was bitter to heradmiration. The firm quiet tread, -- the manly grave repose ofthe face, -- spoke of somewhat in the character and life sounlike what she knew in her own, and so beautiful to her senseof just and right, that she looked in a maze of admiration andself-condemning; rating herself lower and lower and Winthrophigher and higher, at every fair view the moonlight gave, atevery turn that brought him near or took him further from her. And tears -- curious tears -- that came from some very deepwells of her nature, blinded her eyes, and rolled hot down hercheeks, and were wiped away that she might look. "What shall Ido when he gets tired of that walk and goes somewhere else?" --she thought; and with the thought, as instantly, Elizabethgathered herself up from off the floor, wiped her cheeks fromthe tears, and stepped out into the moonlight. "I can't sayanything, but I suppose he will, " was her meditation. "Nobodyknows when I shall have another chance. " --

"They could not make it comfortable for you in there?" saidWinthrop coming up to her. 

"I don't know -- yes, -- I have not tried. "

"Are you very much fatigued?"

"I suppose so. -- I don't feel it. "

"Can I do anything for you?"

The real answer nearly burst Elizabeth's bounds of self-control, but nevertheless her words were quietly given. 

"Yes, -- if you will only let me stay out here a little while. "

He put a chair for her instantly, and himself remainedstanding near, as he had done before. 

"Walk on, if you wish, " said Elizabeth. "Don't mind me. "

But instead of that he drew up another chair, and sat down. 

There was silence then that might be felt. The moonlightpoured down noiselessly on the water, and over the low duskydistant shore; the ripples murmured under the sloop's prow;the wind breathed gently through the sails. Now and then thecreak of the rudder sounded, but the very stars were not morecalmly peaceful than everything else. 

"There is quiet and soothing in the speech of such a scene asthis, " Winthrop said after a time. 

"Quiet!" said Elizabeth. Her voice choked, and it was a littlewhile before she could go on. -- "Nothing is quiet to a mind inutter confusion. "

"Is yours so?"

"Yes. "

The sobs were at her very lips, but the word got out first. 

"It is no wonder, " he observed gently. 

"Yes it is wonder, " said Elizabeth; -- "or at least it is whatneedn't be. Yours wouldn't be so in any circumstances. "

"What makes the confusion?" -- he asked, in a gentleconsiderate tone that did not press for an answer. 

"The want of a single fixed thing that my thoughts can clingto. "

He was silent a good while after that. 

"There is nothing fixed in this world, " he said at length. 

"Yes there is, " said Elizabeth bitterly. "There are friends --and there is a self-reliant spirit -- and there is a settledmind. "

"Settled -- about what?"

"What it will and what it ought to do. "

"Is yours not settled on the latter point?" he asked. 

"If it were, " said Elizabeth with a little hesitation andstruggling, -- "that don't make it settled. "

"It shews where the settling point is. "

"Which leaves it as far as ever from being settled, " saidElizabeth, almost impatiently. 

"A self-reliant spirit, if it be not poised on anotherfoundation than its own, hath no fixedness that is worthanything, Miss Elizabeth; -- and friends are not safe things totrust to. "

"Some of them are, " said Elizabeth. 

"No, for they are not sure. There is but one friend thatcannot be taken away from us. "

"But to know that, and to know everything else about him, doesnot make him our friend, " said Elizabeth in a voice thattrembled. 

"To agree to everything about him, does. "

"To agree? -- How? -- I do agree to it, " said Elizabeth. 

"Do you? Are you willing to have him for a King to reign overyou? -- as well as a Saviour to make you and keep you safe?"

She did not answer. 

"You do not know everything about him, neither. "

"What don't I know?"

"Almost all. You cannot, till you begin to obey him; for tillthen he will not shew himself to you. The epitome of allbeauty is in those two words -- Jesus Christ. "

She made no answer yet, with her head bowed, and striving tocheck the straining sobs with which her breast was heaving. She had a feeling that he was looking on compassionately; butit was a good while before she could restrain herself intocalmness; and during that time he added nothing more. When shecould look up, she found he was not looking at her; his eyeswere turned upon the river, where the moon made a broad andbroadening streak of wavy brightness. But Elizabeth looked atthe quiet of his brow, and it smote her; though there was nowsomewhat of thoughtful care upon the face. The tears that shethought she had driven back, rushed fresh to her eyes again. 

"Do you believe what I last said, Miss Elizabeth?" he saidturning round to her. 

"About the epitome of all beauty?"

"Yes. Do you believe it?"

"You say so -- I don't understand it, " she said sadly andsomewhat perplexed. 

"I told you so, " he answered, looking round to the moonlightagain. 

"But Mr. Landholm, " said Elizabeth in evident distress, "won'tyou tell me something more?"

"I cannot. "

"Oh yes you can, -- a great deal more, " she said weeping. 

"I could, " he said gravely, -- "yet I should tell you nothing --you would not understand me. You must, find it out foryourself. "

"How in the world can I?"

"There is a promise, -- 'If any man will do his will, he shallknow of the doctrine. '"

"I don't know how to begin, nor anything about it, " saidElizabeth, weeping still. 

"Begin anywhere. "

"How? What do you mean?"

"Open the Bible at the first chapter of Matthew, and read. Askhonestly, of your own conscience and of God, at each step, what obligation upon you grows out of what you are reading. Ifyou follow his leading he will lead you on, -- to himself. "

Elizabeth sobbed in silence for some little time; then shesaid, "I will do it, Mr. Landholm. "

"If you do, " said he, "you will find you can do nothing. "

"Nothing!" said Elizabeth. 

"You will find you are dependent upon the good pleasure of Godfor power to take the smallest step. "

"His good pleasure! -- Suppose it should not be given me. "

"There is no 'suppose' about that, " Winthrop answered, with aslight smile, which seen as it was through a veil of tears, Elizabeth never forgot, and to which she often looked back inafter time; -- "'Whosoever _will_, let him take the water oflife freely. ' But he does not always get a draught at thefirst asking. The water of life was not bought so cheap asthat. However, 'to him that knocketh, it shall be opened. '"

Elizabeth hearkened to him, with a curious mixture of yieldingand rebellion at once in her mind. She felt them both there. But the rebellion was against the words; her yielding was forthe voice that brought the words to her ear. She pausedawhile. 

"At that rate, people might be discouraged before they gotwhat they wanted, " she observed, when the silence had lastedsome little time. 

"They might, " said Winthrop quietly. 

"I should think many might. "

"Many have been, " he answered. 

"What then?" she asked a little abruptly. 

"They _did not get what they wanted_. "

Elizabeth started a little, and shivered, and tears began tocome again. 

"What's to hinder their being discouraged, Mr. Landholm?" sheasked in a tone that was a little querulous. 

"Believing God's word. "

So sweet the words came, her tears ceased at that; the powerof the truth sank for a moment with calming effect upon herrebellious feeling; but with this came also as truly thethought, "You have a marvellous beautiful way of saying thingsquietly!" -- However for the time her objections were silenced;and she sat still, looking out upon the water, and thinkingthat with the first quiet opportunity she would begin thefirst chapter of Matthew. 

For a little while they both were motionless and silent; andthen rising, Winthrop began his walk up and down the deckagain. Elizabeth was left to her meditations; which sometimesroved hither and thither, and sometimes concentred themselvesupon the beat of his feet, which indeed formed a sort ofbackground of cadence to them all. It was such a soothingreminder of one strong and sure stay that she might for thepresent lean upon; and the knowledge that she might soon loseit, made the reminder only the more precious. She was weepingmost bitter tears during some of that time; but thosefootsteps behind her were like quiet music through all. Shelistened to them sometimes, and felt them always, with asecret gratification of knowing they would not quit the decktill she did. Then she had some qualms about his gettingtired; and then she said to herself that she could not put astop to what was so much to her and which she was not to haveagain. So she sat and listened to them, weary and halfbewildered with the changes and pain of the last few days andhours; hardly recognizing the reality of her own situation, orthat the sloop, Winthrop's walk behind her, the moonlight, herlonely seat on the deck, and her truly lonely place in theworld, were not all parts of a curious phantasm. Or ifrealizing them, with senses so tried and blunted with recentwear and tear, that they refused to act and left her torealize it quietly and almost it seemed stupidly. She calledit so to herself, but she could not help it; and she was in amanner thankful for that. She would wake up again. She wouldhave liked to sit there all night under that moonlight andwith the regular fall of Winthrop's step to and fro on thevessel. 

"How long can you stand this?" said he, pausing beside her. 

"What?" said Elizabeth looking up. 

"How long can you do without resting?"

"I am resting. -- I couldn't rest so well anywhere else. "

"Couldn't you?"

"No! --" she said earnestly. 

He turned away and went on walking. Elizabeth blessed him forit. 

The moon shone, and the wind blew, and steadily the vesselsailed on; till higher grounds began to rise on either side ofher, and hills stood back of hills, ambitious of each other'sstanding, and threw their deep shadows all along the margin ofthe river. As the sloop entered between these narrowing andlifting walls of the river channel, the draught of air becamegentler, often hindered by some outstanding high point she hadleft behind; more slowly she made her way past hill and hill-embayed curves of the river, less stoutly her sails werefilled, more gently her prow rippled over the smoother water. Sometimes she passed within the shadow of a lofty hill-side;and then slipped out again into the clear fair sparkling waterwhere the moon shone. 

"Are we near there?" said Elizabeth suddenly, turning her headto arrest her walking companion. He came to the back of thechair. 

"Near Wut-a-qut-o?"

"Yes. "

"No. Nearing it, but not near it yet. "

"How soon shall we be?"

"If the wind holds, I should think in two hours. "

"Where do we stop?"

"At the sloop's quarters -- the old mill --about two miles downthe river from Shahweetah. "

"Why wouldn't she carry us straight up to the place?"

"It would be inconvenient landing there, and would very muchdelay the sloop's getting to her moorings. "

"I'll pay for that! --"

"We can get home as well in another way. "

"But then we shall have to stay here all night. "

"Here, on the sloop, you mean? The night is far gone already. "

"Not half!" said Elizabeth. "It's only a little past twelve. "

"Aren't you tired?"

"I suppose so, but I don't feel it. "

"Don't you want to take some sleep before morning?"

"No, I can't. But you needn't walk there to take care of me, Mr. Winthrop. I shall be quite safe alone. "

"No, you will not, " he said; and going to some of the sloop'sreceptacles, he drew out an old sail and laying it on the deckby her side he placed himself upon it, in a half sitting, halfreclining posture, which told of some need of rest on hispart. 

"_You_ are tired, " she said earnestly. "Please don't stay herefor me!"

"It pleases me to stay, " he said lightly. "It is no hardship, under ordinary circumstances, to pass such a night as this outof doors. "

"What is it in these circumstances?" said Elizabeth quickly. 

"Not a hardship. "

"You don't say much more than you are obliged to, " thoughtElizabeth bitterly. "It is 'not a hardship' to stay there totake care of me; -- and there is not in the world anotherperson left to me who could say even as much. " --

"There is a silent peace-speaking in such a scene as this, "presently said Winthrop, lying on his sail and looking at theriver. 

"I dare say there is, " Elizabeth answered sadly. 

"You cannot feel it, perhaps?"

"Not a particle. I can just see that it might be. "

"The Bible makes such constant use of natural imagery, that toone familiar with it, the objects of nature bring back asconstantly its teachings -- its warnings -- its consolations. "

"What now?" said Elizabeth. 

"Many things. Look at those deep and overlapping shadows. 'Asthe mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is roundabout his people, from henceforth'" --

"Stop, Mr. Winthrop!" Elizabeth exclaimed; -- "Stop! I can'tbear it. "

"Why?"

"I can't bear it, " she repeated, in a passion of tears. 

"Why?" said he again in the same tone, when a minute had goneby. 

"Those words don't belong to me -- I've nothing to do withthem, " she said, raising her head and dashing her tears rightand left. 

But Winthrop made no sort of answer to that, and a deadsilence fell between the parties. Again the prow of the sloopwas heard rippling against the waves; and slowly she glidedpast mountain and shadow, and other hills rose and other deepshadows lay before them. Elizabeth, between other thoughts, was tempted to think that her companion was as impassive andcold as the moonlight, and as moveless as the dark mountainlines that stood against the sky. And yet she knew and trustedhim better than that. It was but the working of passingimpatience and bitter feeling; it was only the chafing ofpassion against what seemed so self-contained and so calm. Andyet that very self-continence and calmness was what passionliked, and what passion involuntarily bent down before. 

She had not got over yet the stunned effect of the past daysand nights. She sat feeling coldly miserable and forlorn andsolitary; conscious that one interest was living at her heartyet, but also conscious that it was to live and die by its ownstrength as it might; and that in all the world she hadnothing else; no, nor never should have anything else. Shecould not have a father again; and even he had been nothingfor the companionship of such a spirit as hers, not what shewanted to make her either good or happy. But little as he haddone of late to make her either, the name, and even thenominal guardianship, and what the old childish affection hadclung to, were gone -- and never could come back; and Elizabethwept sometimes with a very bowed head and heart, and sometimessat stiff and quiet, gazing at the varying mountain outline, and the fathomless shadows that repeated it upon the water. 

The night drew on, as the hills closed in more and more uponthe narrowing river channel, and the mountain heads liftedthemselves more high, and the shadows spread out broader uponthe river. Every light along shore had long been out; but nowone glimmered down at them faintly from under a high thickwooded bluff, on the east shore; and the Julia Ann as she cameup towards it, edged down a little constantly to that side ofthe river. 

"Where are we going?" said Elizabeth presently. "We're gettingout of the channel. "

But she saw immediately that Winthrop was asleep. It made herfeel more utterly alone and forlorn than she had done before. With a sort of additional chill at her heart, she looked roundfor some one else of whom to ask her question, and saw theskipper just come on deck. Elizabeth got up to speak to him. 

"Aren't we getting out of our course?"

"Eg-zackly, " said Mr. Hildebrand. "Most out of it. Thatlight's the Mill, marm. "

"The Mill! Cowslip's Mill?"

"Well, it's called along o' my father, 'cause he's livedthere, I s'pose, -- and made it, -- and owns to it, too, as faras that goes; -- I s'pose it's as good a right to have his nameas any one's. "

Elizabeth sat down and looked at the light, which now had aparticularly cheerless and hopeless look for her. It was thetoken of somebody's home, shining upon one who had none; itwas a signal of the near ending of a guardianship and societywhich for the moment had taken home's place; a reminder thatpresently she must be thrown upon her own guidance; left totake care of herself alone in the world, as best she might. The journey, with all its pain, had been a sort of little set-off from the rest of her life, where the contrasts of the pastand the future did not meet. They were coming back now. Shefelt their shadows lying cold upon her. It was one of thetimes in her life of greatest desolation, the while the sloopwas drawing down to her berth under the home light, and makingfast in her moorings. The moon was riding high, and dimlyshewed Elizabeth the but half-remembered points and outlines;-- and there was a contrast! She did not cry; she looked, witha cold chilled feeling of eye and mind that would have beenalmost despair, if it had not been for the one friend asleepat her side. And he was nothing to her. Nothing. He wasnothing to her. Elizabeth said it to herself; but for all thathe was there, and it was a comfort to see him there. 

The sails rattled down to the deck; and with wind and headwaythe sloop gently swung up to her appointed place. Anotherlight came out of the house, in a lantern; and another hand onshore aided the sloop's crew in making her fast. 

"How can he sleep through it all!" thought Elizabeth. "Iwonder if anything ever could shake him out of his settledcomposure -- asleep or awake, it's all the same. "

"Ain't you goin' ashore?" said the skipper at her side. 

"No -- not now. "

"They'll slick up a better place for you than we could fix upin this here little hulk. Though she ain't a small sloopneither, by no means. "

"What have you got aboard there, Hild'?" called out a voicethat came from somewhere in the neighbourhood of the lantern. "Gals?"

"Governor Landholm and some company, " said the skipper in amore moderate tone. The other voice took no hint ofmoderation. 

"Governor Landholm? -- is _he_ along? Well -- glad to see him. Runfrom the yallow fever, eh?"

"Is mother up, father?"

"Up? -- no! -- What on arth!"

"Tell her to get up, and make some beds for folks thatcouldn't sleep aboard sloop; and have been navigatin' allnight. "

"Go, and I'll look after the sloop till morning, Captain, "said Winthrop sitting up on his sail. 

"Won't you come ashore and be comfortable?" said father andson at once. 

"I am comfortable. "

"But you'll be better off there, Governor. "

"Don't think I could, Hild'. I'm bound to stay by the ship. "

"Won't you come, Miss?" said the skipper addressing Elizabeth. "You'll be better ashore. "

"Oh yes -- come along -- all of you, " said the old sloop-masteron the land. 

"I'm in charge of the passengers, Captain, " said Winthrop;"and I don't think it is safe for any of them to go off beforemorning. "

The request was urged to Elizabeth. But Winthrop quietlynegatived it every time it was made; and the sloop's mastersat last withdrew. Elizabeth had not spoken at all. 

"How do you do?" said Winthrop gravely, when the Cowslips, father and son, had turned their backs upon the vessel. 

"Thank you --" said Elizabeth, -- and stopped there. 

"You are worn out. "

"No, " -- Elizabeth answered under her breath; and thengathering it, went on, -- "I am afraid you are. "

"I am perfectly well, " he said. "But you ought to rest. "

"I will, -- by and by, " said Elizabeth desperately. "I willstay here till the daylight comes. It will not be long, willit?"

He made no answer. The sloop's deck was in parts blockadedwith a load of shingles. Winthrop went to these, and takingdown bundle after bundle, disposed them so as to make aresting-place of greater capabilities than the armless woodenchair in which Elizabeth had been sitting all night. Overthis, seat, back, sides and all, he spread the sail on whichhe had been lying. 

"Is there nothing in the shape of a pillow or cushion that youcould get out of the cabin now?" said he. 

"But you have given me your sail, " said Elizabeth. 

"I'm master of the sloop now. Can't you get a pillow?"

Since so much had been done for her, Elizabeth consented to dothis for herself. She fetched a pillow from the cabin; andWinthrop himself bestowed it in the proper position; and witha choking feeling of gratitude and pleasure that did notpermit her to utter one word, Elizabeth placed herself in thebox seat made for her, took off her bonnet and laid her headdown. She knew that Winthrop laid her light shawl over herhead; but she did not stir. Her thanks reached only herpillow, in the shape of two or three hot tears; then sheslept. 

CHAPTER X. 

Beneath my palm-trees, by the river side, I sat a weeping; in the whole world wideThere was no one to ask me why I wept, --And so I keptBrimming the water-lily cups with tearsCold as my fears. SHELLEY. 

The dawn had fairly broken, but that was all, when Winthropand old Mr. Cowslip met on the little wharf landing whichserved instead of courtyard to the house. The hands claspedeach other cordially. 

"How do you do? Glad to see you in these parts!" was thehearty salutation of the old man to the young. 

"Thank you, Mr. Cowslip, " said Winthrop, returning the graspof the hand. 

"I don't see but you keep your own, " the old man went on, looking at him wistfully. "Why don't you come up our wayoftener? It wouldn't hurt you. "

"I don't know about that, " said Winthrop. "My business liesthat way, you know. "

"Ah! -- 'tain't as good business as our'n, now, " said Mr. Cowslip. "You'd better by half be up there on the old place, with your wife and half a dozen children about you. Ain'tmarried yet, Governor, be you?"

"No sir. "

"Goin' to be?"

"I don't know what I am going to be, sir. "

"Ah! --" said the old miller with a sly smile. "Is that whatyou've got here in the sloop with you now? I guessed it, andHild' said it wa'n't -- not as he knowed on -- but I told him hedidn't know everything. "

"Hild' is quite right. But there are two ladies here who aregoing up to Shahweetah. Can you give us a boat, Mr. Cowslip?"

"A boat? -- How many of you?"

"Four -- and baggage. Your boat is large enough -- used to bewhen I went in her. "

"Used to be when I went in her, " said the old skipper; "butthere it is! She won't hold nobody now. "

"What's the matter?"

"She took too many passengers the other day, -- that is, shetook one too many. Shipped a cargo of fresh meat, sir, and itwa'n't stowed in right, and the 'Bessie Bell' broke her heartabout it. Like to ha' gone to the bottom. "

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I was comin' home from Diver's Rock the other day -- justa week ago last Saturday -- I had been round there up the shoreafter fish; -- you know the rock where the horse mackerelcomes? -- me and little Archie; lucky enough we had no morealong. By the by, I hope you'll go fishing, Winthrop -- themackerel's fine this year. How long you're goin' to stay?"

"Only a day or two, sir. "

"Ah! -- Well -- we were comin' home with a good mess o' finefish, and when we were just about in the middle of the river, comin' over, -- the fish had been jumping all along theafternoon, shewing their heads and tails more than common; andI'd been sayin' to Archie it was a sign o' rain -- 'tis, youknow, -- and just as we were in the deepest of the river, abouthalf way over, one of 'em came up and put himself aboard ofus. "

"A sturgeon?"

"Just that, sir; as sound a fellow as ever you saw in yourlife -- just the length of one of my little oars -- longer thanI be -- eight feet wanting one inch, he measured, for the bladeof that oar has been broken off a bit -- several inches, -- andwhat do you think he weighed? -- Two hundred and forty pound. "

"So it seems you got him safe to land, where you could weighhim. "

"And measure him. I forgot I was talkin' to a lawyer, " saidthe old man laughing. "Yes, I didn't think much how long hewas at the time, I guess! He came in as handsome as ever yousaw anything done -- just slipped himself over the gunwale so --and duv under one of the th'arts, and druv his nose throughthe bottom of the boat. "

"Kept it there, I hope?"

"Ha, ha! Not so fast but there came in a'most water enough tofloat him again by the time we got to land. He was a power ofa fellow!"

"And the 'Bessie' don't float?"

"No; she's laid up with three broken ribs. "

"No other boat on hand?"

"There's a little punt out there, that Hild' goes a fishin' in-- that'd carry two or three people. But it wouldn't take thehull on ye. "

"There's the sloop's boat. "

"She leaks, " said the miller. "She wants to be laid up as badas the 'Bessie. '"

"Have you any sort of a team, Mr. Cowslip?"

"Yes! -- there's my little wagon -- it'll hold two. But youain't wanting it yet, be you?"

"As soon as it can go -- if it _can_ go. Is there a horse to thewagon?"

"Sartain! But won't you stop and take a bit?"

"No sir. If you will let some of the boys take up the puntwith her load, I'll drive the wagon myself, and as soon as youcan let me have it. "

"Jock! -- tackle up the wagon! --that 'ere little red one in thebarn, " shouted the miller. "Hild' 'll see to the boat-load --or I will, -- and send it right along. I'm sorry you won'tstop. "

Winthrop turned back to the sloop. Elizabeth met him therewith the question, "if she might not go now?"

"As soon as you please. I am going to drive you up toShahweetah. The boat will carry the rest, but it is too smallto take all of us. "

"I'm very glad!" -- Elizabeth could not help saying. 

She granted half a word of explanation to Mrs. Nettley, herbonnet was hastily thrown on, and she stood with Winthrop onthe wharf before the little wagon was fairly ready. But Jockwas not tardy neither; and a very few minutes saw them seatedand the horse's head turned from the Mill. 

The dawn was fresh and fair yet, hardly yielding to day. Inutter silence they drove swiftly along the road, through thewoods and out upon the crest of tableland overlooking the bay;just above the shore where the huckleberry party had coastedalong, that afternoon years before. By the time they gotthere, the day had begun to assert itself. Little clouds overWut-a-qut-o's head were flushing into loveliness, and castingdown rosy tints on the water; the mountain slopes were growingbright, and a soft warm colouring flung through all the airfrom the coming rays of the coming sun. The cat-birds werewide awake and very busy; the song sparrows full of gladness;and now and then, further off, a wood-thrush, less worldlythan the one and less unchastened than the other, told ofhidden and higher sweets, in tones further removed from Earththan his companions knew. The wild, pure, ethereal notesthrilled like a voice from some clear region where earthlydefilement had been overcome, and earthly sorrows had losttheir power. Between whiles, the little song sparrows strainedtheir throats with rejoicing; but that was the joy ofhilarious nature that sorrows and defilement had nevertouched. The cat-birds spoke of business, and sung over it, ambitious and self-gratulatory, and proud. And then by turnscame the strange thrush's note, saying, as if they knew it andhad proved it, "WHEN HE GIVETH QUIETNESS, THEN WHO CAN MAKE TROUBLE?"

The travellers had ridden so far without speaking a word. IfElizabeth was sometimes weeping, she kept herself very quiet, and perfectly still. The sights and sounds that were abroadentered her mind by a side door, if they entered at all. Winthrop might have taken the benefit of them; but up to thebend of the bay he had driven fast and attentively. Here hesuffered the horse to slacken his pace and come even to awalk, while his eye took note of the flushing morning, andperhaps the song of the birds reached his ear. It was not ofthem he spoke. 

"Do you mean to begin upon the first chapter of Matthew?" hesaid, when the horse had walked the length of some two orthree minutes. 

"Yes! -- I do" -- said Elizabeth, turning her face towards him. 

"According to the rules?"

The answer was spoken more hesitatingly, but again it was'yes. '

"I am glad of that, " he said. 

"Mr. Winthrop, " said Elizabeth presently, speaking it seemedwith some effort, -- "if I get into any difficulty -- if Icannot understand, -- I mean, if I am in any real trouble, --may I write to you to ask about it?"

"With great pleasure. I mean, it would give me great pleasureto have you do so. "

"I should be very much obliged to you, " she said humbly. 

She did not see, for she did not look to see, a tiny show of asmile which spread itself over her companion's face. Theydrove on fast, till the bottom of the bay was left and theydescended from the tableland, by Sam Doolittle's, to the roadwhich skirted the south side of Shahweetah. Winthrop lookedkeenly as he passed at the old fields and hillsides. They wereuncultivated now; fallow lands and unmown grass pastures heldthe place of the waving harvests of grain and new-reapedstubblefields that used to be there in the old time. Thepastures grew rank, for there were even no cattle to feedthem; and the fallows were grown with thistles and weeds. Butover what might have been desolate lay the soft warmth of thesummer morning; and rank pasture and uncared fallow groundtook varied rich and bright hues under the early sun's rays. Those rays had now waked the hilltops and sky and river, andwere just tipping the woods and slopes of the lower ground. Bythe bend meadow Winthrop drew in his horse again and lookedfixedly. 

"Does it seem pleasant to you?" he asked. 

"How should it, Mr. Winthrop?" Elizabeth said coldly. 

"Do you change your mind about wishing to be here?"

"No, not at all. I might as well be here as anywhere. I wouldrather -- I have nowhere else to go. "

He made no comment, but drove on fast again, till he drew uponce more at the old back door of the old house. It seemed apart of the solitude, for nothing was stirring. Elizabeth satand watched Winthrop tie the horse; then he came and helpedher out of the wagon. 

"Lean on me, " said he. "You are trembling all over. "

He put her arm within his, and led her up to the door andknocked. 

"Karen is up -- unless she has forgotten her old ways, " saidWinthrop. He knocked again. 

A minute after, the door slowly opened its upper half, andKaren's wrinkled face and white cap and red shortgown werebefore them. Winthrop did not speak. Karen looked inbewilderment; then her bewilderment changed into joy. 

"Mr. Winthrop! -- Governor!" --

And her hand was stretched out, and clasped his in a long mutestringent clasp, which her eyes at least said was all shecould do. 

"How do you do, Karen?"

"I'm well -- the Lord has kept me. But you --"

"I am well, " said Winthrop. "Will you let us come in, Karen? --This lady has been up all night, and wants rest andrefreshment. "

Karen looked suspiciously at 'this lady, ' as she unbolted thelower half of the door and let them in; and again whenWinthrop carefully placed her in a chair and then went offinto the inner room for one which he knew was more easy, andmade her change the first for it. 

"And what have ye come up for now, governor?" she said, whenshe had watched them both, with an unsatisfied look upon herface and a tone of deep satisfaction coming out in her words. 

"Breakfast, Karen. What's to be had?"

"Breakfast? La!" -- said the old woman, -- "if you had told meyou's coming -- What do you expect I'll have in the house formy breakfast, Governor?"

"Something --, " said Winthrop, taking the tongs and settlingthe sticks of wood in the chimney to burn better. Karen stoodand looked at him. 

"What have you got, Karen?" said Winthrop, setting up thetongs. 

"I ha'n't got nothing for company, " said Karen, grinning. 

"That'll do very well, " said Winthrop. "Give me the coffee andI'll make it; and you see to the bread, Karen. You have milkand cream, haven't you?"

"Yes, Governor. "

"And eggs?"

"La! yes. "

"Where are they?"

"Mr. Landholm, don't trouble yourself, pray!" said Elizabeth. "I am in no hurry for anything. Pray don't!"

"I don't intend it, " said he. "Don't trouble _your_ self. Wouldyou rather go into another room?"

Elizabeth would not; and therefore and thereafter kept herselfquiet, watching the motions of Karen and her temporary master. Karen seemed in a maze; but a few practical advices fromWinthrop at last brought her back to the usual possession ofher senses and faculties. 

"Who is she?" Elizabeth heard her whisper as she began tobustle about. And Winthrop's answer, not whispered, "How long ago do you suppose this coffee was parched?"

"No longer ago than yesterday. La sakes! Governor, -- I'll dosome fresh for you if you want it. "

"No time for that, Karen. You get on with those cakes. "

Elizabeth watched Winthrop with odd admiration and curiosity, mixed for the moment with not a little of gratified feeling;but the sense of desolation sitting back of all. He seemed tohave come out in a new character, or rather to have taken upan old one; for no one could suppose it worn for the firsttime. Karen had been set to making cakes with all speed. Winthrop seemed to have taken the rest of the breakfast uponhimself. He had found the whereabout of the eggs, and groundsome coffee, and made it and set it to boil in Karen's tincoffeepot. 

"What are you after now, Mr. Winthrop?" said Karen, lookinground from her pan and moulding board. "These'll be in thespider before your coffee's boiled. "

"They'll have to be quick, then, " said Winthrop, going on withhis rummaging. 

"What are you after, Governor? -- there's nothin' there but thepots and kittles. "

One of which, however, Winthrop brought out as if it was thething wanted, and put upon the fire with water in it. Goingback to the receptacle of 'pots and kittles, ' he next cameforth with the article Karen had designated as the 'spider, 'and set that in order due upon its appropriate bed of coals. 

"La sakes! Governor!" said Karen, in a sort of fondadmiration, -- "ha'n't you forgot nothin'?"

"Now Karen, " said Winthrop, when she had covered the bottom ofthe hot iron with her thin cakes, -- "you set the table andI'll take care of 'em. "

"There's the knife, then, " said Karen. "Will ye know when toturn them? There ain't fire enough to bake 'em by the blaze. "

"I've not forgotten so much, " said Winthrop. "Let's have a cupand saucer and plate, Karen. "

"Ye sha'n't have _one_, " said Karen, casting another inquisitiveand doubtful glance towards the silent, pale, fixed figuresitting in the middle of her kitchen. He did have one, however, before she had got the two ready; despatched Karenfrom the table for sugar and cream; and then poured outhimself a cup of his own preparation, and set it on Karen'shalf-spread table, and came to Elizabeth. He did not ask herif she would have it, nor say anything in fact; but gentlyraising her with one hand, he brought forward her chair withthe other, and placed both where he wanted them to be, in theclose neighbourhood of the steaming coffee. Once before, Elizabeth had known him take the same sort of superintendingcare of her, when she was in no condition to take care ofherself. It was inexpressibly soothing; and yet she felt as ifshe could have knelt down on the floor, and given forth hervery life in tears. She looked at the coffee with a motionlessface, till his hand held it out to her. Not to drink it wasimpossible, though she was scarcely conscious of swallowinganything but tears. When she took the cup from her lips, shefound an egg, hot out of the water, on her plate, which wasalready supplied also with butter. Her provider was justadding one of the cakes he had been baking. 

"I can't eat!" said Elizabeth, looking up. 

"You must, --" Winthrop answered. 

In the same tone in which he had been acting. Elizabeth obeyedit as involuntarily. 

"Who is the lady, Governor?" Karen ventured, when she hadpossessed herself of the cake-knife, and had got Winthropfairly seated at _his_ breakfast. 

"This lady is the mistress of the place, Karen. "

"The mistress! Ain't you the master?" -- Karen inquiredinstantly. 

"No. I have no right here any longer, Karen. "

"I heered it was selled, but I didn't rightly believe it, " theold woman said sadly. "And the mistress 'll be turning _me_ awaynow?"

"Tell her no, " whispered Elizabeth. 

"I believe not, Karen, unless you wish it. "

"What should I wish it for? I've been here ever since I comewith Mis' Landholm, when she come first, and she left me here;and I want to stay here, in her old place, till I'm called tobe with her again. D'ye think it'll be long, Governor?"

"Are you in haste, Karen?"

"I don't want fur to stay" said the old woman. "She's gone, and I can't take care o' you no longer, nor no one. I'd liketo be gone, too -- yes, I would. "

"You have work to do yet, Karen. You may take as good care asyou can of this lady. "

Again Karen looked curiously and suspiciously at her, for aminute in silence. 

"Is she one of the Lord's people?" she asked suddenly. 

Elizabeth looked up on the instant, in utter astonishment atthe question; first at Karen and then at Winthrop. The nextthing was a back-sweeping tide of feeling, which made her dropher bread and her cup from her hands, and hide her face inthem with a bitter burst of tears. Winthrop looked concerned, and Karen confounded. But she presently repeated her questionin a half whisper at Winthrop. 

"Is she? --"

"There is more company coming, Karen, for you to take careof, " he said quietly. "I hope you have cakes enough. Miss Haye-- I see the boat-load has arrived -- will you go into the otherroom?"

She rose, and not seeing where she went, let him lead her. Thefront part of the house was unfurnished; but to the littlesquare passage-way where the open door let in the breeze fromthe river, Winthrop brought a chair, and there she sat down. He left her there and went back to see to the other members ofthe party, and as she guessed to keep them from intruding uponher. She was long alone. 

The fresh sweet air blew in upon her hot face and hands, reminding her what sort of a world it came from; and after thefirst few violent bursts of pain, Elizabeth presently raisedher head to look out and see, in a sort of dogged willingnessto take the contrast which she knew was there. The soft fairhilly outlines she remembered, in the same August light; -- thebright bend of the river -- a sloop sail or two pushing lazilyup; -- the same blue of a summer morning overhead; -- the littlegreen lawn immediately at her feet, and the everlastingcedars, with their pointed tops and their hues of patientsobriety -- all stood nearly as she had left them, how manyyears before. And herself -- Elizabeth felt as if she couldhave laid herself down on the doorstep and died, for mereheart-heaviness. In this bright sunny world, what had she todo? The sun had gone out of her heart. What was to become ofher? What miserable part should she play, all alone byherself? She despised herself for having eaten breakfast thatmorning. What business had she to eat, or to have any appetiteto eat, when she felt so? But Winthrop had made her do it. What for? Why should he? It was mere aggravation, to take careof her for a day, and then throw her off for ever to take careof herself. How soon would he do that? --

She was musing, her eyes on the ground; and had quiteforgotten the sunny landscape before her with all its gentlesuggestions; when Winthrop's voice sounded pleasantly in herear, asking if she felt better. Elizabeth looked up. 

"I was thinking, " she said, "that if there were nothing betterto be had in another world, I could almost find it in my heartto wish I had never been born into this!"

She expected that he would make some answer to her, but he didnot. He was quite silent; and Elizabeth presently began toquestion with herself whether she had said something dreadful. She was busily taking up her own words, since he had not savedher the trouble. She found herself growing very much ashamedof them. 

"I suppose that was a foolish speech, " she said, after a fewmoments of perfect silence, -- "a speech of impatience. "

But Winthrop neither endorsed nor denied her opinion; he saidnothing about it; and Elizabeth was exceedingly mortified. 

"If you wanted to rebuke me, " she thought, "you could not havedone it better. I suppose there is no rebuke so sharp as thatone is obliged to administer to oneself. And your cool keepingsilence is about as effectual a way of telling me that youhave no interest in my concerns as even you could havedevised. "

Elizabeth's eyes must have swallowed the landscape whole, forthey certainly took in no distinct part of it. 

"How are you going to make yourself comfortable here?" saidWinthrop presently; -- "these rooms are unfurnished. "

She might have said that she did not expect to be comfortableanywhere; but she swallowed that too. 

"I will go and see what I can do in the way of getting somefurniture together, " he went on. "I hope you will be able tofind some way of taking rest in the mean time -- though Iconfess I do not see how. "

"Pray do not!" said Elizabeth starting up, and her wholemanner and expression changing. "I am sure you are tired todeath now. "

"Not at all. I slept last night. "

"How much? Pray do not go looking after anything! You willtrouble me very much. "

"I should be sorry to do that. "

"I can get all the rest I want. "

"Where?"

"On the rocks -- on the grass. "

"Might do for a little while, " said Winthrop; -- "I hope itwill; but I must try for something better. "

"Where can you find anything -- in this region?"

"I don't know, " said he; "but it must be found. If not in thisregion, in some other. "

"To-morrow, Mr. Landholm. "

"To-morrow -- has its own work, " said he; and went. 

"Will he go to-morrow?" thought Elizabeth, with a pang at herheart. "Oh, I wish -- no, I dare not wish -- that I had neverbeen born! What am I to do with myself?"

Conscience suggested very quietly that something might bedone; but Elizabeth bade conscience wait for another time, though granting all it advanced. She put that by, as she didMrs. Nettley and Clam who both presently came where Winthrophad been standing, to make advances of a different nature. 

"What'll I do, Miss 'Lizabeth?" said the latter, in a tonethat argued a somewhat dismal view of affairs. 

"Anything you can find to do. "

"Can't find nothin, --" said Clam, "'cept Karen. One corner ofthe house is filled enough with her; and the rest ha'n't gotnothin' in it. "

"Let Karen alone, and take care of your own business, Clam. "

"If I knowed what 'twas, " said the persevering damsel. "Ican't make the beds, for there ain't none; nor set thefurnitur to rights, for the rooms is 'stressed empty. "

"You can let me alone, at all events. The rooms will havesomething in them before long. You know what to do as well asany one; -- if you don't, ask Mr. Landholm. "

"Guess I will!" said Clam; "when I want to feel foolisher thanI do. Did the furnitur come by the sloop?"

"No. Mr. Landholm will send some. I don't care anything aboutit. "

"Ha! then if _he's_ goin' to send it, " said Clam turning away, "the place 'll have to be ready for it, I s'pose. "

Mrs. Nettley appeared in Clam's place. Elizabeth was stillsitting on the door-step, and though she knew by a side viewthat one had given place to the other, she did not seem toknow it and sat looking straight before her at the sunnylandscape. 

"It's a beautiful place, " said Mrs. Nettley after a littlepause of doubt. 

"Very beautiful, " said Elizabeth coldly. 

"I did not know it was so beautiful. And a healthy place, Ishould suppose. "

Elizabeth left the supposition unquestioned. 

"You are sadly fatigued, Miss Haye, " said Mrs. Nettley after alonger pause than before. 

"I suppose I am, " said Elizabeth rising, for patience haddrawn her last breath; -- "I am going down by the water torest. Don't let any one follow me or call me -- I want nothing-- only to rest by myself. "

And drawing her scarf round her, she strode through the rankgrass to the foot of the lawn, and then between scatteredrocks and sweetbriars and wild rose-bushes, to the fringe ofcedar trees which there clothed the rocks down to the water. Between and beneath them, just where she came out upon theriver, an outlooking mass of granite spread itself smooth andwide enough to seat two or three people. The sun's rays couldnot reach there, except through thick cedar boughs. Cedartrees and the fall of ground hid it from the house; and infront a clear opening gave her a view of the river andopposite shore, and of a cedar-covered point of her own land, outjutting a little distance further on. Solitude, silence, and beauty invited her gently; and Elizabeth threw herselfdown on the grey lichen-grown stone; but rest was not there. 

"Rest!" -- she said to herself in great bitterness; -- "rest!How can I rest? -- or where can there be rest for me? --"

And then passionate nature took its will, and poured out toitself and drank all the deep draughts of pain that passionalone can fill and refill for its own food. Elizabeth's proudhead bowed there, to the very rock she sat on. Yet the proudheart would not lay itself down as well; _that_ stood up tobreast pain and wrestle with it, and take the full fiercepower of the blast that came. Till nature was tired out, --till the frame subsided from convulsions that racked it, intoweary repose, -- so long the struggle lasted; and then thestruggle was not ended, but only the forces on either side hadlost the power of carrying it on. And then she sat, leaningagainst a cedar trunk that gave her its welcome support, whichevery member and muscle craved; not relieved, but with thatcurious respite from pain which the dulled senses take whenthey have borne suffering as long and as sharply as they can. 

It was hot in the sun; but only a warm breath of summer airplayed about Elizabeth where she sat. The little waves of theriver glittered and shone and rolled lazily down upon thechannel, or curled up in rippling eddies towards the shore. The sunlight was growing ardent upon the hills and the river;but over Elizabeth's head the shade was still unbroken. A softaromatic smell came from the cedars, now and then broken inupon by a faint puff of fresher air from the surface of thewater. Hardly any sound, but the murmur of the ripple at thewater's edge and the cheruping of busy grasshoppers upon thelawn. Now and then a locust did sing out; he only said it wasAugust and that the sun was shining hot and sleepilyeverywhere but under the cedar trees. His song wasirresistible. Elizabeth closed her eyes and listened to it, ina queer kind of luxurious rest-taking which was had becausemind and body would have it. Pain was put away, in a sort; forthe senses of pain were blurred. The aromatic smell of theevergreens was wafted about her; and then came a touch, a mostgentle touch, of the south river-breeze upon her face; andthen the long dreamy cry of the locust; and the soft plashingsound of the water at her feet. All Elizabeth's faculties werecrying for sleep; and sleep came, handed in by the locust andthe summer air, and laid its kind touch of forgetfulness uponmind and body. At first she lost herself leaning against thecedar tree, waking up by turns to place herself better; and atlast yielding to the overpowering influences without andwithin, she curled her head down upon a thick bed of moss ather side and gave herself up to such rest as she might. 

What sort of rest? Only the rest of the body, which had made atruce with the mind for the purpose. A quiet which knew thatstorms were not over, but which would be quiet nevertheless. Elizabeth felt that, in her intervals of half-consciousness. But all the closer she clung to her pillow of dry moss. Shehad a dispensation from sorrow there. When her head left it, it would be to ache again. It should not ache now. Sweet moss!-- sweet summer air! -- sweet sound of plashing water! -- sweetdreamy lullaby of the locust! -- Oh if they could put her tosleep for ever! -- sing pain out and joy in! --

A vague, half-realized notion of the fight that must be gonethrough before rest 'for ever' could in any wise be hoped for-- of the things that must be gained and the things that mustbe lost before that 'for ever' rest could in any sort belooked forward to, -- and dismissing the thought, Elizabethblessed her fragrant moss pillow of Lethe and went to sleepagain. 

How she dreaded getting rested; how she longed for thatoverpowering fatigue and exhaustion of mind and body toprolong itself! And as the hours went on, she knew that shewas getting rested, and that she would have to wake up toeverything again by and by. It should not be at anybody'sbidding. 

"Miss 'Lizabeth! --" sounded Clam's voice in the midst of herslumbers. 

"Go away, Clam!" said the sleeper, without opening her eyes. 

"Miss 'Lizabeth, ain't ye goin' to eat nothin'?"

"No -- Go away. "

"Miss 'Lizabeth! -- dinner's ready. "

"Well! --"

"You're a goin' to kill yourself. "

"Don't _you_ kill me!" said Elizabeth impatiently. "Go off. "

"To be sure, " said Clam as she turned away, -- "there ain'tmuch company. "

It was very vexing to be disturbed. But just as she wasgetting quiet again, came the tread of Mrs. Nettley's footbehind her, and Elizabeth knew another colloquy was at hand. 

"Are you asleep, Miss Haye?" said the good lady a littletimidly. 

"No, " said Elizabeth lifting her head wearily, -- "I wish Iwere. "

"There's dinner got ready for you in the house. "

"Let anybody eat it that can. -- I can't. "

"Wouldn't you be better for taking a little something? I'mafraid you'll give way if you do not. "

"I don't care, " said Elizabeth. "Let me give way -- only let mealone!"

She curled her head down determinately again. 

"I am afraid, Miss Haye, you will be ill, " said poor Mrs. Nettley. 

"I am willing, " -- said Elizabeth. "I don't care aboutanything, but to be quiet! --"

Mrs. Nettley went off in despair; and Elizabeth in despairalso, found that vexation had effectually driven away sleep. In vain the locust sang and the moss smelled sweet; the tideof feeling had made head again, and back came a rush ofdisagreeable things, worse after worse; till Elizabeth's browquitted the moss pillow to be buried in her hands, and herhalf-quieted spirit shook anew with the fresh-raised tempest. Exhaustion came back again; and thankfully she once more laidherself down to sleep and forgetfulness. 

Her sleep was sound this time. The body asserted its rights;and long, long she lay still upon her moss pillow, while theregular deep-drawn breath came and went, fetching slowsupplies of strength and refreshment. The sun quitted itsoverhead position and dipped towards Wut-a-qut-o, behind thehigh brow of which, in summer-time, it used to hide itself. Aslant ray found an opening in the thick tree-tops, and shonefull upon Elizabeth's face; but it failed to rouse her; and itsoon went up higher and touched a little song sparrow that wastwittering in a cedar tree close by. Then the shadows of thetrees fell long over the grass towards the rocks on the east. 

Elizabeth was awakened at last by a familiar adjuration. 

"Miss 'Lizabeth! -- you'll catch a Typhus, or an agur, orsomethin' dreadful, down there! Don't ye want to live no morein the world?"

Elizabeth sat up, and rested her face on her knees, feelinggiddy and sick. 

"Don't ye feel bad?"

"Hush, Clam! --"

"I'm sent after ye, " said Clam, -- "I dursn't hush. Folksthinks it is time you was back in the house. "

"Hush! -- I don't care what folks think. "

"Not what _nobody_ thinks?" said Clam. 

"What do you mean!" said Elizabeth flashing round upon her. "Go back into the house. -- I will come when I am ready. "

"You're ready now, " said Clam. "Miss 'Lizabeth, ye ain't fitfor anything, for want of eatin'. Come! -- they want ye. "

"Not much, " -- thought Elizabeth bitterly, -- "if they left itto her to bring me in. "

"Are you sick, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"No. "

"He's come home, " Clam went on; -- "and you never saw thethings he has brought! Him and me's been puttin' 'em up anddown. Lots o' things. Ain't he a man!"

"'Up and down!'" repeated Elizabeth. 

"Egg-zackly, " -- said Clam; -- "Floor-spreads -- what-d'ye-call'ems? -- and bedsteads -- and chairs. He said if he'd know'dthe house was all stripped, he'd never have fetched you uphere. "

"Yes he would, " said Elizabeth. "What do I care for a strippedhouse!" -- "with a stripped heart, " her thought finished it. 

"Well don't you care for supper neither? -- for that old thingis a fixin' it, " said Clam. 

"You must not call her names to me. "

"Ain't she old?" said Clam. 

"She is a very good old woman, I believe. "

"Ain't you comin' Miss 'Lizabeth? They won't sit down withoutyou. "

"Who sent you out here?"

"Karen axed where you was; and Mrs. Nettley said she dursn'tgo look for you; and Mr. Landholm said I was to come and bringyou in. "

"He didn't, Clam! --"

"As likely as your head's been in the moss there, he did, Miss'Lizabeth. "

"Go yourself back into the house. I'll come when I am ready, and I am not ready yet. "

"He ha'n't had nothin' to eat to-day, I don't believe, " saidClam, by way of a parting argument. But Elizabeth let her gowithout seeming to hear her. 

She sat with her hands clasped round her knees, looking downupon the water; her eyes slowly filling with proud and bittertears. Yet she saw and felt how coolly the lowering sunbeamswere touching the river now; that evening's sweet breath wasbeginning to freshen up among the hills; that the daintiest, lightest, cheeriest gilding was upon every mountain top, andwavelet, and pebble, and stem of a tree. "Peace be to thee, fair nature, and thy scenes!" -- and peace from them seems tocome too. But oh how to have it! Elizabeth clasped her handstight together and then wrung them mutely. "O mountains -- Oriver -- O birds!" -- she thought, -- "If I could but be assenseless as you -- or as good for something!"

CHAPTER XI. 

When cockleshells turn silver bells, When wine dreips red frae ilka tree, When frost and snaw will warm us a', Then I'll come doun an' dine wi' thee. JEANNIE DOUGLASS. 

The sun was low, near Wut-a-qut-o's brow, when at last slowlyand lingeringly, and with feet that, as it were, spurned eachstep they made, Elizabeth took her way to the house. But nosooner did her feet touch the doorstep than her listless andsullen mood gave place to a fit of lively curiosity -- to seewhat Winthrop had done. She turned to the left into the oldkeeping-room. 

It had been very bare in the morning. Now, it was stocked withneat cane-bottomed chairs, of bird's-eye maple. In the middleof the floor rested an ambitious little mahogany table withclaw feet. A stack of green window-blinds stood against thepier between the windows, and at the bottom on the floor lay apaper of screws and hinges. The floor was still bare, to besure, and so was the room, but yet it looked hopeful comparedwith the morning's condition. Elizabeth stood opening her eyesin a sort of mazed bewilderment; then hearing a little noiseof hammering in the other part of the house, she turned andcrossed over to the east room -- her sleeping-room of old andnow. She went within the door and stood fast. 

Her feet were upon a green carpet which covered the room. Round about were more of the maple chairs, looking quitehandsome on their green footing. There was a decent dressing-table and chest of drawers of the same wood, in their places;and a round mahogany stand which seemed to be meant for noparticular place but to do duty anywhere. And in the corner ofthe room was Winthrop, with Mrs. Nettley and Clam forassistants, busy putting up a bedstead. He looked up slightlyfrom his work when Elizabeth shewed herself, but gave her nofurther attention. Clam grinned. Mrs. Nettley was far toointent upon holding her leg of the bedstead true and steady, to notice or know anything else whatever. 

Elizabeth looked for a moment, without being able to utter aword; and then turned about and went and stood at the opendoor, her breast heaving thick and her eyes too full to see athing before her. Then she heard Winthrop pass behind her andgo into the other room. Elizabeth followed quickly. He hadstooped to the paper of screws, but stood up when she came in, to speak to her. 

"I am ashamed of myself for having so carelessly brought youto a dismantled house. I had entirely forgotten that it wasso, in this degree, -- though I suppose I must at some timehave heard it. "

"It would have made no difference, --" said Elizabeth, and saidno more. 

"I will return to the city to-morrow, and send you upimmediately whatever you will give order for. It can be herein a very few days. "

Elizabeth looked at the maple chairs and the mahogany table, and she could not speak, for her words choked her. Winthropstooped again to his paper of screws and hinges and beganturning them over. 

"What are you going to do?" said Elizabeth, coming a stepnearer. 

"I am going to see if I can put up these blinds?"

"Blinds!" said Elizabeth. 

"Yes. -- I was fortunate enough to find some that were not veryfar from the breadth of the windows. They were too long; and Imade the man shorten them. I think they will do. "

"What _did_ you take all that trouble for?"

"It was no trouble. "

"Where did all these things come from?"

"From Starlings -- I hadn't to go any further than that forthem. "

"How far is it?"

"Twelve miles. "

"Twelve miles there and back!"

"Makes twenty-four. "

"In this hot day! -- I am very sorry, Mr. Landholm!"

"For what?" said he, shouldering one of the green blinds. 

"You are not going to put those on yourself?"

"I am going to try -- as I said. "

"You have done enough day's work, " said Elizabeth. "Praydon't, at least to-night. It's quite late. Please don't! --"

"If I don't to-night, I can't to-morrow, " said Winthrop, marching out. "I must go home to-morrow. "

_Home!_ It shook Elizabeth's heart to hear him speak the oldword. But she only caught her breath a little, and then spoke, following him out to the front of the house. 

"I would rather they were not put up, Mr. Landholm. I can getsomebody to do it. "

"Not unless I fail. "

"It troubles me very much that you should have such a day. "

"I have had just such a day -- as I wanted, " said Winthrop, measuring with his eye and rule the blind and the window-framerespectively. 

"Miss 'Lizabeth, Karen's got the tea all ready, she says, "Clam announced from the door; "and she hopes everybody's tiredof waitin'. "

"You've not had tea! --" exclaimed Elizabeth. "Come then, Mr. Winthrop. "

"Not now, " said he, driving in his gimlet, -- "I must finishthis first. 'The night cometh wherein no man can work. '"

Elizabeth shrank inwardly, and struggled with herself. 

"But the morning comes also, " she said. 

Winthrop's eye went up to the top hinge of the blind, and downto the lower one, and up to the top again; busy and cool, itseemed to consider nothing but the hinges. Elizabeth struggledwith herself again. She was mortified. But she could not letgo the matter. 

"Pray leave those things!" she said in another minute. "Comein, and take what is more necessary. "

"When my work is done, " said he. "Go in, Miss Elizabeth. Karenwill give me something by and by. "

Elizabeth turned; she could do nothing more in the way ofpersuasion. As she set her foot heavily on the door-step, shesaw Clam standing in the little passage, her lips slightlyparted in a satisfied bit of a smile. Elizabeth was vexed, proud, and vexed again, in as many successive quarter seconds. Her foot was heavy no longer. 

"Have you nothing to do, Clam?"

"Lots, " said the damsel. 

"Why aren't you about it, then?"

"I was waitin' till you was about your'n, Miss 'Lizabeth. Ilike folks to be out o' my way. "

"Do you! Take care and keep out of mine, " said her mistress. "What are you going to do now?"

"Settle your bed, Miss 'Lizabeth. It's good we've got linenenough, anyhow. "

"Linen, --" said Elizabeth, -- "and a bedstead, -- have you got abed to put on it?"

"There's been care took for that, " said Clam, with the samesatisfied expression and a little turn of her head. 

Half angry and half sick, Elizabeth left her, and went inthrough her new-furnished keeping-room, to Karen's apartmentwhere the table was bountifully spread and Mrs. Nettley andKaren awaited her coming. Elizabeth silently sat down. 

"Ain't he comin'?" said Karen. 

"No -- I am very sorry -- Mr. Landholm thinks he must finishwhat he is about first. "

"He has lots o' _thoughts_, " said Karen discontentedly, -- "he'dthink just as well after eatin'. -- Well, Miss -- Karen's doneher best -- There's been worse chickens than those be -- Mis'Landholm used to cook 'em that way, and she didn't cook 'em nobetter. I s'pose he'll eat some by'm by -- when he's donethinkin'. "

She went off, and Elizabeth was punctually and silently takencare of by Mrs. Nettley. The meal over, she did not go back toher own premises; but took a stand in the open kitchen door, for a variety of reasons, and stood there, looking alternatelyout and in. The sun had set, the darkness was slowlygathering; soft purple clouds floated up from the west, overWut-a-qut-o's head, which however the nearer heads of pinesand cedars prevented her seeing. A delicate fringe ofevergreen foliage edged upon the clear white sky. The fresherevening air breathed through the pine and cedar branches, hardly stirred their stiff leaves, but brought from themtokens of rare sweetness; brought them to Elizabeth'ssorrowful face, and passed on. Elizabeth turned her face fromthe wind and looked into the house. Karen had made herappearance again, and was diligently taking away broken meatsand soiled dishes and refreshing the look of the table;setting some things to warm and some things to cool; givingthe spare plate and knife and fork the advantage of the bestplace at table; brushing away crumbs, and smoothing down thesalt-cellar. "You _are_ over particular!" thought Elizabeth; --"it would do him no harm to come after me in handling thesalt-spoon! -- that even that trace of me should be removed. "She looked out again. 

Her friend the locust now and then was reminding her of thelong hot day they had passed through together; and theintervals between were filled up by a chorus of grasshoppersand crickets and katydids. Soft and sweet blew the west windagain; _that_ spoke not of the bygone day, with its burden andheat; but of rest, and repose, and the change that cometh evento sorrowful things. The day was passed and gone. "But if oneday is passed, another is coming, " -- thought Elizabeth; andtears, hot and bitter tears, sprang to her eyes. How couldthose clouds float so softly! -- how could the light and shadowrest so lovely on them! -- how could the blue ether look sostill and clear! "Can one be like that?" -- thought Elizabeth. "Can I? -- with this boiling depth of passion and will in mynature? -- _One_ can --" and she again turned her eyes within. Butnothing was there, save the table, the supper, and Karen. Thequestion arose, what she herself was standing there for? butpassion and will said they did not care! she would standthere; and she did. It was pleasant to stand there; forpassion and will, though they had their way, seemed to herfeeling to be quieted down under nature's influences. Perhapsthe most prominent thought now was of a great discord betweennature and her, between her and right, -- which was to be madeup. But still, while her face was towards the western sky andsoft wind, and her mind thought this, her ear listened for astep on the kitchen floor. The colours of the western sky hadgrown graver and cooler before it came. 

It came, and there was the scrape of a chair on the woodenfloor. He had sat down, and Karen had got up; but Elizabethwould not look in. 

"Are ye hungry enough now, Governor?"

"I hope so, Karen, -- for your sake. "

"Ye don't care much for your own, " said Karen discontentedly. 

Perhaps Winthrop -- perhaps Elizabeth, thought that she made uphis lack of it. Elizabeth watched, stealthily, to see how theold woman waited upon him -- hovered about him -- supplied hiswants, actual and possible, and stood looking at him when shecould do nothing else. She could not understand the low wordor two with which Winthrop now and then rewarded her. Bitterfeeling overcame her at last; she turned away, too much out oftune with nature to notice any more, unless by way ofcontrast, what nature had spread about her and over her. Shewent round the house again to the front and sat down in thedoorway. The stars were out, the moonlight lay soft on thewater, the dews fell heavily. 

"Miss Lizzie! -- you'll catch seven deaths out there! -- theday's bad enough, but the night's five times worse, " -- Clamexclaimed. 

"I shan't catch but one, " Elizabeth said gloomily. 

"Your muslin's all wet, drinchin'!"

"It will dry. "

"I can hang it up, I s'pose; but what'll I do with you if youget sick?"

"Nothing whatever! Let me alone, Clam. "

"Mis' Nettles! --" said Clam going in towards the kitchen, --"Mis' Nettles! -- where's Mr. Landholm? -- Governor Winthrop --here's Miss 'Lizabeth unhookin' all them blinds you've been ahookin' up. "

"What do you mean, Clam?"

"I don't mean no harm, " said Clam lowering her tone, -- "butMiss 'Lizabeth does. I wish you would go and see what she _is_doing, Mr. Winthrop; she's makin' work for somebody; and if itain't nobody else, it's the doctor. "

Winthrop however sat still, and Clam departed in ignorance howhe had received her information. Presently however his supperwas finished, and he sauntered round to the front of thehouse. He paused before the doorway where its mistress sat. 

"It is too damp for you there. "

"I don't feel it. "

"I do. "

"I am not afraid of it. "

"If the fact were according to your fears, that would be asufficient answer. "

"It will do me no harm. "

"It must not; and that it may not, you must go in, " he saidgravely. 

"But you are out in it, " said Elizabeth, who was possessedwith an uncompromising spirit just then. 

"I am out in it. Well?"

"Only -- that I may venture --" she did not like to finish hersentence. 

"What right have you to venture anything?"

"The same right that other people have. "

"I risk nothing, " said he gravely. 

"I haven't much to risk. "

"You may risk your life. "

"My life!" said Elizabeth. "What does it signify! --" But shejumped up and ran into the house. 

The next morning there was an early breakfast, for whichElizabeth was ready. Then Winthrop took her directions forthings to be forwarded from Mannahatta. Then there was a quietleave-taking; on his part kind and cool, on hers too full ofimpassioned feeling to be guarded or constrained. But therewas reason and excuse enough for that, as she knew, or guardand restraint would both have been there. When she quitted hishand, it was to hide herself in her room and have one strugglewith the feeling of desolation. It was a long one. 

Elizabeth came out at last, book in hand. 

"Dear Miss Haye!" Mrs. Nettley exclaimed -- "you're dreadfulworn with this hot weather and being out of doors all dayyesterday!"

"I am going out again, " said Elizabeth. "Clam will know whereto find me. "

"If you had wings, I'd know where to find you, " said Clam;"but on your feet 'taint so certain. "

"You needn't try, unless it is necessary, " said Elizabethdryly. 

"But dear Miss Haye!" pleaded Mrs. Nettley, -- "you're notsurely going out to try the sun again to-day?"

Elizabeth's lip quivered. 

"It's the pleasantest place, Mrs. Nettley -- I am quite in theshade -- I can't be better than I am there, thank you. "

"Don't she look dreadful!" said the good lady, as Elizabethwent from the house. "Oh, I never have seen anybody sochanged!"

"She's pulled down a bit since she come, " said Karen, who gaveElizabeth but a moderate share of her good will at any time. "She's got her mind up high enough, anyway, for all she's gonethrough. "

"Who hain't?" said Clam. "Hain't the Governor _his_ mind up highenough? And you can't pull him down, but you can her. "

"His don't never need, " said Karen. 

"Well -- I don' know, --" said Clam, picking up several thingsabout the floor -- "but them high minds is a trial. "

"Hain't you got one yourself, girl?" said old Karen. 

"Hope so, ma'am. I take after my admirers. That's all the wayI live, -- keeping my head up -- always did. "

Karen deigned no reply, but went off. 

"Mis' Nettles, " said Clam, "do _you_ think Miss Haye 'll everstand it up here all alone in this here place?"

"Why not?" said Mrs. Nettley innocently. 

"I guess your head ain't high enough up for to see her'n, "said Clam, in scornful impatience. And she too quitted theconversation in disgust. 

CHAPTER XII. 

'Resolve, ' the haughty moralist would say, 'The single act is all that we demand. 'Alas! such wisdom bids a creature flyWhose very sorrow is, that time hath shornHis natural wings. WORDSWORTH. 

The book in Elizabeth's hand was her bible. It was the nextthing, and the only thing to be done after Winthrop's goingaway, that she could think of, to begin upon the first chapterof Matthew. It was action, and she craved action. It was anundertaking; for her mind remembered and laid hold ofWinthrop's words -- "Ask honestly, of your own conscience andof God, at each step, what obligation upon you grows out ofwhat you read. " And it was an undertaking that Winthrop hadset her upon. So she sought out her yesterday's couch of mosswith its cedar canopy, and sat down in very different moodfrom yesterday's mood, and put her bible on her lap. It was afeeling of dull passive pain now; a mood that did not want tosleep. 

The day itself was very like yesterday. Elizabeth listened aminute to the sparrow and the locust and the summer wind, butpresently she felt that they were overcoming her; and sheopened her book to the first chapter of Matthew. She was verycurious to find her first _obligation_. Not that she wasunconscious of many resting upon her already; but those werevague, old, dimly recognized obligations; she meant to takethem up now definitely, in the order in which they might come. 

She half paused at the name in the first verse, -- was therenot a shadow of obligation hanging around that? But if therewere, she would find it more clearly set forth and in detailas she went on. She passed it for the present. 

From that she went on smoothly as far as the twenty-firstverse. That stopped her. 

"And she shall bring forth a son; and thou shalt call his nameJesus; for he shall save his people from their sins. "

"'_His people_, ' --" thought Elizabeth. "I am not one of hispeople. Ought I not to be?"

The words of the passage did not say; but an imperativewhisper at her heart said "Ay!"

"_His people!_ -- but how can I be one of his people?" shethought again. And impatience bade her turn over the leaf, andfind something more or something else; but conscience said, "Stop -- and deal with this obligation first. "

"What obligation? -- '_He shall save his people from theirsins_. ' Then certainly I ought to let him save me from mine --that is the least I can do. But what is the first thing -- thefirst step to be taken? I wish Mr. Landholm was here to tellme. --"

She allowed herself to read on to the end of the page, butthat gave her not much additional light. She would not turnover the leaf; she had no business with the second obligationtill the first was mastered; she sat looking at the words in asort of impatient puzzle; and not permitting herself to lookforward, she turned back a leaf. That gave her but thetitlepage of the New Testament. She turned back another, tothe last chapter of the Old. Its opening words caught her eye. 

"For behold, the day cometh that shall burn as an oven; andall the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly, shall bestubble; and the day that cometh shall burn them up, saith theLord of Hosts, that it shall leave them neither root norbranch. "

"_The proud, and they that do wickedly_ -- that is my characterand name truly, " thought Elizabeth. "I am of them. -- And it isfrom this, and this fate, that 'his people' shall bedelivered. But how shall I get to be of them?" Her eye glancedrestlessly up to the next words above --

"Then shall ye return and discern between the righteous andthe wicked, between him that serveth God and him that servethhim not. "

"'_Then_, ' -- in that day, " -- thought Elizabeth, "I can discernbetween them now, without waiting for that. -- WinthropLandholm is one that serveth God -- I am one that serve himnot. There is difference enough, I can see now -- but thisspeaks of the difference at that day; another sort ofdifference. -- Then I ought to be a servant of God --"

The obligation was pretty plain. 

"Well, I will, when I find out how, " -- she began. Butconscience checked her. 

"This is not the first chapter of Matthew, " she said then. "Iwill go back to that. "

Her eye fell lower, to the words, "But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of Righteousnessarise with healing in his wings. "

The tears started to Elizabeth's eyes. "This is that same whowill save his people from their sins, -- is it? -- and that ishis healing? Oh, I want it! -- There is too much differencebetween me and them. He shall save his people from their sins, -- I have plenty, -- plenty. But how? -- and what shall I do? Itdon't tell me here. "

It did not; yet Elizabeth could not pass on. She was honest;she felt an obligation, arising from these words, which yetshe did not at once recognize. It stayed her. She must dosomething -- what could she do? It was a most unwelcome answerthat at last slid itself into her mind. _Ask_ to be made one of'his people' -- or to be taught how to become one? Her verysoul started. _Ask?_ -- but now the obligation stood full andstrong before her, and she could cease to see it no more. _Ask?_-- why she never did such a thing in her whole life as ask Godto do anything for her. Not of her own mind, at her ownchoice, and in simplicity; her thoughts and feelings hadperhaps at some time joined in prayers made by another, and inchurch, and in solemn time. But here? with the blue sky overher, in broad day, and in open air? It did not seem likepraying time. Elizabeth shut her book. Her heart beat. Dutyand she were at a struggle now; she knew which must give way, but she was not ready yet. It never entered her head toquestion the power or the will to which she must applyherself, no more than if she had been a child. Herself shedoubted; she doubted not him. Elizabeth knew very little ofhis works or word, beyond a vague general outline, got fromsermons; but she knew one servant of God. That servantglorified him; and in the light which she saw and loved, Elizabeth could do no other but, in her measure, to glorifyhim too. She did not doubt, but she hesitated, and trembled. The song of the birds and the flow of the water mocked herhesitancy and difficulty. But Elizabeth was honest; and thoughshe trembled she would not and could not disobey the voice ofconscience which set before her one clear, plain duty. She wasin great doubt whether to stand or to kneel; she was afraid ofbeing seen if she knelt; she would not be so irreverent as topray sitting; she rose to her feet, and clasping a cedar treewith her arms, she leaned her head beside the trunk, andwhispered her prayer, to him who saves his people from theirsins, that he would make her one of them, she did not knowhow, she confessed; she prayed that he would teach her. 

She kept her position and did not move her bended head, tillthe tears which had gathered were fallen or dried; then shesat down and took up her book again and looked down into thewater. What had she done? Entered a pledge, she felt, to bewhat she had prayed to be; else her prayer would be but amockery, and Elizabeth was in earnest. "What a full-grown fairspecimen he is of his class, " she thought, her mind recurringagain to her adviser and exemplar; "and I -- a poor ignorantthing in the dark, groping for a bit of light to begin!" -- Thetears gathered again; she opened the second chapter ofMatthew. 

She looked off again to feel glad. Was a pledge entered onlyon her side? -- was there not an assurance given somewhere, bylips that cannot lie, that prayer earnestly offered should notbe in vain? She could not recall the words, but she was sure ofthe thing; and there was more than one throb of pleasure, anda tiny shoot of grateful feeling in her heart, beforeElizabeth went back to her book. What was the next'obligation'? She was all ready for it. 

Nothing stopped her much in the second chapter. The 'nextobligation' did not start up till the words of John theBaptist in the beginning of the third --

"Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. "

"What is repentance? -- and what is the kingdom of heaven?"pondered Elizabeth. "I wish somebody was here to tell me. Repent? -- I know what it is to repent -- it is to change one'smind about something, and to will just against what one willedbefore. -- And what ought I to repent about? -- Everythingwrong! _Everything wrong!_ -- That is, to turn about and set myface just the other way from what it has been all my life! -- Imight as good take hold of this moving earth with my twofingers and give it a twist to go westwards. --"

Elizabeth shut up her book, and laid it on the moss besideher. 

"Repent? -- yes, it's an obligation. Oh what shall I do withit! --"

She would have liked to do with it as she did with her head --lay it down. 

"These wrong things are iron-strong in me -- how can I unscrewthem from their fastenings, and change all the out-goings andin-comings of my mind? -- when the very hands that must do thework have a bent the wrong way. How can I? -- I am strong forevil -- I am weak as a child for good. "

"I will try!" she said the next instant, lifting her head up --"I will _try_ to do what I can. -- But that is not changing mywhole inner way of feeling -- that is not _repenting_. Perhaps itwill come. Or is this determination of mine to _try_, thebeginning of it? I do not know that it is -- I cannot be surethat it is. No -- one might wish to be a good lawyer, withoutat all being willing to go through all the labour and painsfor it which Winthrop Landholm has taken. -- No, _this_ is not, or it may not be, repentance -- I cannot be sure that it isanything. But will it not come? or how can I get it? How aloneI am from all counsel and help! -- Still it must be my duty totry -- to try to do particular things right, as they come up, even though I cannot feel right all at once. And if I try, won't the help come, and the knowledge? -- What a confusion itis! In the midst of it all it is my duty to repent, and Ihaven't the least idea how to set about it, and I can't do it!O I wish Winthrop Landholm was here! --"

Elizabeth pondered the matter a good deal; and the more shethought about it, the worse the confusion grew. The dutyseemed more imminent, the difficulty more obstinate. She wasdriven at last, unwillingly again, to her former ressource --what she could not give herself, to ask to have given her. Shedid it, with tears again, that were wrung from breaking prideand weary wishing. More quietly then she resolved to lay offperplexing care, and to strive to meet the moment's duty, asit arose. And by this time with a very humbled and quietedbrow, she went on with her chapter. The words of the nextverse caught her eye and her mind at once. 

"For this is he that was spoken of by the prophet Esaias, saying, The voice of one crying in the wilderness, prepare yethe way of the Lord, make his paths straight. "

"Is not this it?" cried Elizabeth. "If I do my part -- all Ican -- is not that _preparing the way_ for him to do what Icannot do?"

She thought so, at any rate, and it comforted her. 

"Miss 'Lizabeth, " said Clam, just behind her, "Karen wants toknow what time you'll have dinner?"

"I don't care. "

"That's 'zackly Karen's time o' day, " said Clamdiscontentedly. 

"I don't care at all, Clam. "

"And she says, _what_ 'll you have?"

"Nothing -- or anything. Don't talk to me about it. "

"Ain't much good in choosing, " said Clam, "when there ain'tthree things to choose from. How long can you live on pork, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

Elizabeth looked up impatiently. 

"Longer than you can. Clam! --"

"Ma'am?"

"Let me alone. I don't care about anything. "

Clam went off; but ten minutes had not gone when she was backagain. 

"Miss Lizzie, -- Anderese wants to know if he'll go on cuttin'wood just as he's a mind to?"

"Anderese? -- who's he?"

"Karen and him used to be brother and sister when they waslittle. "

"What does he want?"

"Wants to know if he shall go on cuttin' wood just as ever. "

"Cutting wood! -- what wood?"

"I s'pect it's your trees. "

"Mine! What trees?"

"Why the trees in the woods, Miss Lizzie. As long as they wasnobody's, Anderese used to cut 'em for the fire; now they'reyourn, he wants to know what he shall do with 'em. "

"Let 'em alone, certainly! Don't let him cut any more. "

"Then the next question is, where'll he go for something tomake a fire?"

"To make a fire!"

"Yes, Miss Lizzie -- unless no time 'll do for dinner as wellas any time. Can't cook pork without a fire. And _then_ you'dwant the kettle boiled for tea, I reckon. "

"Can't he get wood anywhere, Clam? without cutting downtrees. "

"There ain't none to sell anywheres -- _he_ says. "

"What trees has he been cutting?" said Elizabeth, rousingherself in despair. 

"Any that come handy, I s'pose, Miss Lizzie -- they'll allburn, once get 'em in the chimney. "

"He mustn't do that. Tell him -- but you can't tell him-- and _I_can't. --"

She hesitated, between the intense desire to bid him cutwhatever he had a mind, and the notion of attending to all herduties, which was strong upon her. 

"Tell him to cut anything he pleases, for to-day -- I'll seeabout it myself the next time. "

Two minutes' peace; and then Clam was at her back again. 

"Miss Lizzie, he don't know nothin' and he wants to know aheap. Do you want him to cut down a cedar, he says, or an oak, or somethin' else. There's the most cedars, he says; but Karensays they snap all to pieces. "

Elizabeth rose to her feet. 

"I suppose I can find a tree in a minute that he can cutwithout doing any harm. -- Bring me a parasol, Clam, -- and comealong with me. "

Clam and the parasol came out at one door, and Anderese andhis axe at another, as Elizabeth slowly paced towards thehouse. The three joined company. Anderese was an old grey-haired negro, many years younger however than his sister. Elizabeth asked him, "Which way?"

"Which way the young lady pleases. "

"I don't please about it, " said Elizabeth, -- "I don't knowanything about it -- lead to the nearest place -- where a treecan be soonest found. "

The old man shouldered his axe and went before, presentlyentering a little wood path; of which many struck off into theleafy wilderness which bordered the house. Leaves overhead, rock and moss under foot; a winding, jagged, up and down, stony, and soft green way, sometimes the one, sometimes theother. Elizabeth's bible was still in her hand, her fingerstill kept it open at the second chapter of Matthew; she wentmusingly along over grey lichens and sunny green beds of moss, thinking of many things. How she was wandering in Winthrop'sold haunts, where the trees had once upon a time been cut byhim, she now to order the cutting of the fellow trees. Strangeit was! How she was desolate and alone, nobody but herselfthere to do it; her father gone; and she without anotherprotector or friend to care for the trees or her either. Therewere times when the weight of pain, like the pressure of theatmosphere, seemed so equally distributed that it wasdistinctly felt nowhere, -- or else so mighty that the nervesof feeling were benumbed. Elizabeth wandered along in a kindof maze, half wondering half indignant at herself that shecould walk and think at all. She did not execute muchthinking, to do her justice; she passed through the sweetbroken sunlight and still shadows, among the rough trunks ofthe cedars, as if it had been the scenery of dreamland. Onevery hand were up-shooting young pines, struggling oaks thatwere caught in thickets of cedar, and ashes and elms that werehumbly asking leave to spread and see the light and reachtheir heads up to freedom and free air. They asked in vain. Elizabeth was only conscious of the struggling hopes andwishes that seemed crushed for ever, her own. 

"She don't see nothin', " whispered Clam to Anderese, whom shehad joined in front. "She's lookin' into vacancy. If you don'tstop, our axe and parasol 'll walk all round the place, andone 'll do as much work as the other. I can't put up my awningtill you cut down something to let the sun in. "

The old man glanced back over his shoulder at his young lady. 

"What be I goin' to do?" he whispered, with a sidelong glanceat Clam. 

"Fling your axe into something, " said Clam. "That'll bring herup. "

The old man presently stepped aside to a young sapling oak, which having outgrown its strength bent its slim altitude in abeautiful parabolic curve athwart the sturdy stems of cedarsand yellow pines which lined the path. Anderese stopped thereand looked at Elizabeth. She had stopped too, without noticinghim, and stood sending an intent, fixed, far-going look intothe pretty wilderness of rock and wood on the other side ofthe way. All three stood silently. 

"Will this do to come down, young lady?" inquired Anderese, with his axe on his shoulder. Elizabeth faced about. 

"'Twon't grow up to make a good tree -- it's slantin' off soamong the others. " He brought his axe down. 

"_That?_" said Elizabeth, -- "that reaching-over one? O no! youmustn't touch that. What is it?"

"It's an oak, miss; it's good wood. "

"It's a better tree. No indeed -- leave that. Never cut suchtrees. Won't some of those old things do?"

"Them? -- them are cedars, young lady. "

"Well, won't they do?"

"They'd fly all over and burn the house up, " said Clam. 

"What do you want?"

"Some o' the best there is, I guess, " said Clam. 

"Hard wood is the best, young lady. "

"What's that?"

"Oak -- maple -- hickory -- and there's ash, and birch -- 'tain'tvery good. "

Elizabeth sighed, and led the way on again, while the oldnegro shouldered his axe and followed with Clam; probablysighing on his own part, if habitual gentleness of spirit didnot prevent. Nobody ever knew Clam do such a thing. 

"Look at her!" muttered the damsel; -- "going with her headdown, -- when'll she see a tree? Ain't we on a march! Miss'Lizabeth! -- the tree won't walk home after it's cut. "

"What?" said her mistress. 

"How'll it get there?"

"What?"

"The tree, Miss Lizzie -- when Anderese has cut it. "

"Can't he carry some home?"

"He'll be a good while about it -- if he takes one stick at atime -- and we ain't nigh home, neither. "

Elizabeth came to a stand, and finally turned in anotherdirection, homewards. But she broke from the path then, andtook up the quest in earnest, leading her panting followersover rocks and moss-beds and fallen cedars and tangled vinesand undergrowth, which in many places hindered their way. Shefound trees enough at last, and near enough home; but both sheand her companions had had tree-hunting to their satisfaction. Elizabeth commissioned Anderese to find fuel in another way;and herself in some disgust at her new charge, returned to herrock and her bible. She tried to go through with the thirdchapter of Matthew; and her eye did go over it, though oftenswimming in tears. But that was the end of her studies at thattime. Sorrow claimed the rest of the day for its own, and heldthe whole ground. Her household and its perplexities -- herbible and its teachings -- her ignorance and her necessities, --faded away from view; and instead thereof rose up the lostfather, the lost home, and the lost friend yet dearer thanall. 

"What's become of Miss Haye?" whispered Mrs. Nettley late inthe evening. 

"Don' know, " answered Clam. "Melted away -- all that can melt, and shaken down -- all that can shake, of her. That ain't all, so I s'pose there's somethin' left. "

"Poor thing! -- no wonder she takes it hard, " said the goodlady. 

"No, " said Clam, -- she never did take nothin' easy. "

"Has she been crying all the afternoon?"

"Don' know, " said Clam; "the eye of curiosity ain't invited;but she don't take that easy neither, when she's about it. I've seen her cry -- once; she'd do a year o' your crying inhalf an hour. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

O Land of Quiet! to thy shore the surfOf the perturbed Present rolls and sleeps;Our storms breathe soft as June upon thy turf, And lure out blossoms. LOWELL. 

They were days of violent grief which for a little whilefollowed each other. Elizabeth spent them out of doors; in thewoods, on the rocks, by the water's edge. She would take herbible out with her, and sometimes try to read a little; but avery few words would generally touch some spring which set heroff upon a torrent of sorrow. Pleasant things past or out ofher reach, the present time a blank, the future worse than ablank, -- she knew nothing else. She did often in her distressrepeat the prayer she had made over the first chapter ofMatthew; but that was rather the fruit of past thought; shedid not think in those days; she gave up to feeling; and thehours were a change from bitter and violent sorrow to dull andlistless quiet. Conscience sometimes spoke of duties resolvedupon; impatient pain always answered that their time was notnow. 

The first thing that roused her was a little letter fromWinthrop, which came with the pieces of furniture and storeshe sent up to her order. It was but a word, -- or two words;one of business, to say what he had done for her; and one ofkindness, to say what he hoped she was doing for herself. Bothwords were brief, and cool; but with them, with the veryhandwriting of them, came a waft of that atmosphere ofinfluence -- that silent breath of truth which every characterbreathes -- which in this instance was sweetened with airs fromheaven. The image of the writer rose before her brightly, inits truth and uprightness and high and fixed principle; andthough Elizabeth wept bitter tears at the miserable contrastof her own, they were more healing tears than she had shed allthose days. When she dried them, it was with a new mind, tolive no more hours like those she had been living. Somethingless distantly unlike him she could be, and would be. She roseand went into the house, while her eyes were yet red, and gaveher patient and unwearied attention, for hours, to details ofhousehold arrangements that needed it. Her wits were notwandering, nor her eyes; nor did they suffer others to wander. Then, when it was all done, she took her bonnet and went backto her old wood-place and her bible, with an humbler andquieter spirit than she had ever brought to it before. It wasthe fifth chapter of Matthew now. 

The first beatitude puzzled her. She did not know what wasmeant by 'poor in spirit, ' and she could not satisfy herself. She passed it as something to be made out by and by, and wenton to the others. There were obligations enough. 

"'Meek?'" said Elizabeth, -- "I suppose if there is anythingin the world I am _not_, it is meek. I am the very, veryopposite. What can I do with this? It is like a fire in myveins. Can _I_ cool it? And if I could control the outwardseeming of it, that would not be the change of the thingitself. Besides, I couldn't, I must _be_ meek, if I am ever toseem so. "

She went on sorrowfully to the next. 

"'Hunger and thirst after righteousness' -- I do desire it -- Ido not '_hunger and thirst_. ' I don't think I do -- and it isthose and those only to whom the promise is given. I am somiserable that I cannot even wish enough for what I need most. O God, help me to know what I am seeking, and to seek it moreearnestly! --"

"'Merciful?'" she went on with tears in her eyes -- "I thinkI am merciful. -- I haven't been tried, but I am pretty sure Iam merciful. But there it is -- one must have all the marks, Isuppose, to be a Christian. Some people may be merciful bynature -- I suppose I am. --"

"Blessed are the _pure in heart_. "

She stopped there, and even shut up her book, in utter sorrowand shame, that if 'pure in heart' meant pure to the All-seeing eye, hers was so very, very far from it. There was nota little scrap of her heart fit for looking into. And whatcould she do with it? The words of Job recurred to her, -- "Whocan bring a clean thing out of an unclean? not one. "

Elizabeth was growing 'poor in spirit' before she knew whatthe words meant. She went on carefully, sorrowfully, earnestly -- till she came to the twenty-fourth verse of thesixth chapter. It startled her. 

"No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the oneand love the other; or else he will hold to the one anddespise the other. You cannot serve God and Mammon. "

"That is to say then, " said Elizabeth, "that I must devotemyself _entirely_ to God -- or not at all. All my life andpossessions and aims. It means all that! --"

And for 'all that' she felt she was not ready. One corner forself-will and doing her own pleasure she wanted somewhere; andwanted so obstinately, that she felt, as it were, a mountainof strong unwillingness rise up between God's requirements andher; an iron lock upon the door of her heart, the key of whichshe could not turn, shutting and barring it fast against hisentrance and rule. And she sat down before the strong mountainand the locked door, as before something which must, and couldnot, give way; with a desperate feeling that it _must_ -- withanother desperate feeling that it would not. 

Now was Elizabeth very uncomfortable, and she hateddiscomfort. She would have given a great deal to make herselfright; if a movement of her hand could have changed her andcleared away the hindrance, it would have been made on theinstant; her judgment and her wish were clear; but her willwas not. Unconditional submission she thought she was readyfor; unconditional obedience was a stumbling-block beforewhich she stopped short. She _knew_ there would come upoccasions when her own will would take its way -- she could notpromise for it that it would not; and she was afraid to giveup her freedom utterly and engage to serve God in _everything_. An enormous engagement, she felt! How was she to meet with tenthousand the enemy that came against her with twenty thousand?-- Ay, how? But if he were not met -- if she were to be theservant of _sin_ for ever -- all was lost then! And she was notgoing to be lost; therefore she _was_ going to be theunconditional servant of God. When? --

The tears came, but they did not flow; they could not, for thefever of doubt and questioning. She dashed them away asimpertinent asides. What were they to the matter in hand. Elizabeth was in distress. But at the same time it wasdistress that she was resolved to get out of. She did not knowjust what to do; but neither would she go into the house tillsomething was done. 

"If Mr. Landholm were here! --"

"What could he do?" answered conscience; "there is thequestion before you, for you to deal with. You must deal withit. It's a plain question. "

"I cannot" -- and "Who will undertake for me?" -- wereElizabeth's answering cry. 

Her heart involuntarily turned to the great helper, but whatcould or would he do for her? -- it was his will she wasthwarting. Nevertheless, "_to whom should she go?_" -- the shakenneedle of her mind's compass turned more and more steadily toits great centre. There was light in no other quarter but onthat 'wicket-gate' towards which Bunyan's Pilgrim first longago set off to run. With some such sorrowful blind looking, she opened to her chapter of Matthew again, and carelessly andsadly turned over a leaf or two; till she saw a word whichthough printed in the ordinary type of the rest, stood out toher eyes like the lettering on a signboard. "ASK. " --

"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find;knock, and it shall be opened unto you. "

The tears came then with a gush. 

"Ask what? -- it doesn't say, --but it must be whatever mydifficulty needs -- there is no restriction. 'Knock'! -- I will-- till it is opened to me -- as it will be! --"

The difficulty was not gone -- the mountain had not suddenlysunk to a level; but she had got a clue to get over the one, and daylight had broken through the other. Elizabeth felt notchanged at all; no better, and no tenderer; but she laid holdof those words as one who has but uncertain footing puts hisarms round a strong tree, -- she clung as one clings there; andclasped them with assurance of life. Ask? -- did she not ask, with tears that streamed now; she knocked, clasping thatstronghold with more glad and sure clasp; she knew then thateverything would be 'made plain' in the rough places of herheart. 

She did not sit still long then for meditation or to rest; hermood was action. She took her bible from the moss, and with astrong beating sense both of the hopeful and of the forlorn inher condition, she walked slowly through the grass to thesteps of her house door. As she mounted them a new thoughtsuddenly struck her, and instead of turning to the right sheturned to the left. 

"Mrs. Nettley, " said Elizabeth as she entered the sitting-room, "isn't it very inconvenient for you to be staying herewith me?"

Good Mrs. Nettley was sitting quietly at her work, and lookedup at this quite startled. 

"Isn't it inconvenient for you?" Elizabeth repeated. 

"Miss Haye! -- it isn't inconvenient; -- I am very glad to do it-- if I can be of any service --"

"It is very kind of you, and very pleasant to me; but aren'tyou wanted at home?"

"I don't think I am wanted, Miss Haye, -- at least I am sure mybrother is very glad to have me do anything for Mr. Landholm, or for you, I am sure; -- if I can. "

Elizabeth's eye flashed; but then in an instant she calledherself a fool, and in the same breath wondered why it shouldbe, that Winthrop's benevolence must put him in the way ofgiving her so much pain. 

"Who fills your place at home, while you are taking care of mehere, Mrs. Nettley?"

"I don't suppose any of 'em can just do that, " said the goodlady with a little bit of a laugh at the idea. 

"Well, is there any one to take care of your house and yourbrother?"

"Mr. Landholm -- he said he'd see to it. "

"Mr. Landholm! --"

"He promised he'd take care of George and the house as well. --I dare say they don't manage much amiss. "

"But who takes care of Mr. Landholm?"

"Nobody does, if he don't himself, " said Mrs. Nettley with ashake of her head. "He don't give that pleasure to any otherliving person. "

"Not when you are at home?"

"It makes no difference, Miss Haye, " said Mrs. Nettley goingon with her sewing. "He never will. He never did. "

"But surely he boards somewhere, don't he? He don't liveentirely by himself in that room?"

"That's what he always used, " said Mrs. Nettley; "he _does_ takehis dinners somewhere now, I believe. But nothing else. Hemakes his own tea and breakfast, -- that is! -- for he don'tdrink anything. If it was any one else, one would be apt tosay one would grow unsociable, living in such a way; but itdon't make any change in him, no more than in the sun, whatsort of a place he lives in. "

Elizabeth stood for a minute very still; and then said gently, "Mrs. Nettley, I mustn't let you stay here with me. "

"Why not, Miss Haye? -- I am sure they don't want me. I canjust as well stay as not. I am very glad to stay. "

"You are wanted more there than here. I must learn to getalong alone. -- It don't matter how soon I begin. "

"Dear Miss Haye, not yet. Never mind now -- we'll talk about itby and by, " said Mrs. Nettley hurriedly and somewhatanxiously. She was a little afraid of Elizabeth. 

"How could you get home from this place?"

"O by and by -- there'll be ways -- when the time comes. "

"The time must come, Mrs. Nettley. You are very good -- I'mvery much obliged to you for coming and staying with me, -- butin conscience I cannot let you stay any longer. It don't makeany difference, a little sooner or later. "

"Later is better, Miss Elizabeth. "

"No -- I shall feel more comfortable to think you are at home, than to think I am keeping you here. I would rather you shouldmake your arrangements and choose what day you will go; and Iwill find some way for you to go. "

"I am very sorry, Miss Elizabeth, " said Mrs. Nettley mostunaffectedly. "I am sure Mr. Landholm would a great dealrather I should stay. "

It was the last word Elizabeth could stand. Her lip trembled, as she crossed the passage to her own room and bolted thedoor; and then she threw herself on her knees by the bedsideand hid the quivering face in her hands. 

Why should it, that kind care of his, pierce her like thornsand arrows? why give her that when he could give her no more?"But it will all be over, " she thought to herself, -- "thisstruggle like all other struggles will come to an end;meanwhile I have it to bear and my work to do. Perhaps I shallget over this feeling in time -- time wears out so much. -- ButI should despise myself if I did. No, when I have taken up aliking on so good and solid grounds, I hope I am of goodenough stuff to keep it to the end of my days. "

Then came over her the feeling of forlornness, of loneliness, well and thoroughly realized; with the single gleam of betterthings that sprung from the promise her heart had embracedthat day. True and strong it was, and her soul clung to it. But yet its real brightness, to her apprehension, shone upon a"land that is very far off;" and left all the way thereuntowith but a twilight earnest of good things to come; andElizabeth did not like looking forward; she wanted somesweetness in hand. Yet she clung to that, her one stand-by. She had a vague notion that its gleam might lead to morebrightness even this side of heaven; that there might be asort of comfort growing out of doing one's duty, and thefavour of him whose service duty is. Winthrop Landholm wasalways bright, -- and what else had he to make him so? Shewould try what virtue there might be in it; she would essaythose paths of wisdom which are said to be 'pleasantness;' butagain came the longing for help; she felt that she knew solittle. Again the word '_ask_' -- came back to her; and at last, half comforted, wholly wearied, she rose from her longmeditation by the bed-side and went towards the window. 

There was such a sparkling beauty on everything outside, underthe clear evening sun, that its brilliancy half rebuked her. The very shadows seemed bright, so bright were the lines oflight between them, where the tall pointed cedars were castingtheir mantle on the grass. Elizabeth stood by the open window, wondering. She looked back to the time when she had been therebefore, when she was as bright, though not as pure, as allthings else; and now -- father and friend were away from her, and she was alone. Yet still the sun shone -- might it notagain some time for her? Poor child, as she stood there thetears dropped fast, at that meeting of hope and sorrow; hopeas intangible as the light, sorrow a thicker mantle than thatof the cedar trees. And now the sunlight seemed to say '_Ask_' --and the green glittering earth responded -- "and ye shallreceive. " Elizabeth looked; -- she heard them say itconstantly. She did not question the one word or the other. Itseemed very sweet to her, the thought of doing her duty; andyet, -- the tears which had stayed, ran fast again when shethought of Mrs. Nettley's going away and how utterly alone sheshould be. 

She had sat down and was resting her arm on the window-sill;and Miss Haye's face was in a state of humbled and saddenedgravity which no one ever saw it in before these days. As shesat there, Karen's voice reached her from the back of thehouse somewhere; and it suddenly occurred to Elizabeth that itmight be as well for her to acquaint herself somewhat betterwith one of her few remaining inmates, since their number wasto be so lessened. She dried her eyes, and went out with quickstep through the kitchen till she neared the door of thelittle back porch where Karen was at work. There she paused. 

The old woman was singing one of her Methodist songs, in avoice that had once very likely been sweet and strong. It wastrembling and cracked now. Yet none of the fire and spirit ofold was wanting; as was shewn, not indeed by the power of thenotes, but by the loving flow or cadence the singer gave them. Elizabeth lingered just within the door to listen. The melodywas as wild and sweet as suited the words. The first of thesong she had lost; it went on --

"Till Jesus shall come, "Protect and defend me until I'm called home;"Though worms my poor body may claim as their prey, "'Twill outshine, when rising, the sun at noon-day. 

"The sun shall be darkened, the moon turned to blood, "The mountains all melt at the presence of God;"Red lightnings may flash, and loud thunders may roar, "All this cannot daunt me on Canaan's blest shore. 

"A glimpse of bright glory surprises my soul, "I sink in sweet visions to view the bright goal;"My soul, while I'm singing, is leaping to go, "This moment for heaven I'd leave all below. 

"Farewell, my dear brethren -- my Lord bids me come;"Farewell, my dear sisters --I'm now going home;"Bright angels are whispering so sweet in my ear, --"Away to my Saviour my spirit they'll bear. 

"I am going -- I'm going -- but what do I see! --"

She was interrupted. 

"Do you mean all that, Karen?" said Elizabeth, steppingwithout the door. 

Karen stopped her song and looked round. 

"Do you mean all that you are singing, Karen?"

"What I'm singing? --"

"Yes. I've been listening to you. -- Do you feel and mean allthose words of your hymn?"

"I don't say no words I don't mean, " said Karen, going on withher work; -- "anyhow, I don't mean to. "

"But those words you have been singing -- do you mean that youfeel them all?"

Karen stood up and faced her as she answered, "Yes!"

"Do you mean that you would rather die than live?"

"If 'twas the Lord's will, I would, " said Karen, withoutmoving her face. 

"Why?"

Karen looked at her still, but her face unbent in a little bitof a smile. 

"You ain't one of the Lord's people, be you, young lady?"

"I don't know --" said Elizabeth, blushing and hesitating, -- "Imean to be. "

"Do you mean to be one of 'em?" said Karen. 

"I wish to be -- yes, I mean to be, -- if I can. "

The old woman dried her hand which had been busy in water, andcoming up took one of Elizabeth's, -- looked at its delicatetints in her own wrinkled and black fingers, and then liftinga moistened eye to Elizabeth's face, she answeredexpressively, "_Then_ you'll know. "

"But I want to know something about it now, " said the younglady as Karen went back to her work. "Tell me. How can youwish to 'leave all for heaven, ' as you were singing a momentago?"

"I'd ha' done that plenty o' years ago, " said Karen. "I'd gotenough of this world by that time. "

"Is that the reason?"

"What reason?" said Karen. 

"Is that the reason you would like to go to heaven?"

"It's the reason why I'm willing to leave the earth, " saidKaren. "It hain't nothin' to do with heaven. "

"Anybody might be willing to go to heaven at that rate, " saidElizabeth. 

"That ain't all, young lady, " said Karen, working away whileshe spoke. "I'm not only willin' to go -- I'm willin' to _be_there when I get there -- and I'm ready too, thank the Lord!"

"How can one be 'ready' for it, Karen? -- It seems such achange. "

"It'll be a good change, " said Karen. "Mis' Landholm thinks itis. "

Elizabeth stood silent, the tears swelling; she got littlelight from Karen. 

"You wa'n't one of the Lord's people when you come? -- be you?--" said Karen suddenly, looking round at her. 

"I hardly know whether I am one now, Karen, -- but I mean totry. "

"Tryin' ain't no use, " said Karen. "If you want to be one ofthe Lord's people, you've only to knock, and it shall beopened to you. "

"Did you never know that fail?"

"I never tried it but once -- it didn't fail me then, " said theold woman. "The Lord keeps his promises. -- I tried it a goodwhile -- it don't do to stop knockin'. "

"But I must -- one must try to do something -- I must try to domy duty, " said Elizabeth. 

"Surely!" said Karen, facing round upon her again, "but youcan't help that. Do you s'pose you can love Jesus Christ, and_not_ love to please him? 'Tain't in natur' -- you can't helpit. "

"But suppose I don't love him, Karen?" said Elizabeth, hervoice choking as she said it. "I don't know him yet -- I don'tknow him enough to love him. "

There was a little pause; and then without looking at her, Karen said in her trembling voice, a little more tremblingthan it was, "I don't know, Miss 'Lizabeth -- 'To them gave he power tobecome the sons of God, even to them that believe on hisname!' -- I heard a man preach that once. "

The tears rushed in full measure to Elizabeth's eyes. Shestood, not heeding Karen nor anything else, and the thick veilof tears hiding everything from her sight. It was a moment ofstrong joy; for she knew she believed in him! She was, or shewould be, one of 'his people. ' Her strong pillar of assuranceshe clasped again, and leaned her heart upon, with unspeakablerest. 

She stood, till the water had cleared itself from her eyes;and then she was turning into the house, but turned backagain, and went close up to the old black woman. 

"Thank you, Karen, " said she. "You have given me comfort. "

"You hain't got it all, " said Karen without looking at her. 

"What do you mean?"

"Did you ever read a book called the 'Pilgrim's Progress, 'young lady?"

"No. "

"I ain't much like the people there, " said Karen, "but theywas always glad to hear of one more that was going to be apilgrim; and clapped their hands, they did. "

"Did _you_ ever read it, Karen?"

"I hearn Mis' Landholm read it -- and the Governor. "

Elizabeth turned away, and she had not half crossed thekitchen when she heard Karen strike up, in a sweet refrain, "I'll march to Canaan's land, "I'll land on Canaan's shore, " --

Then something stopped the song, and Elizabeth came back toher room. She sat down by the window. The light was changed. There seemed a strange clear brightness on all things withoutthat they had not a little while ago, and that they never hadbefore. And her bread was sweet to her that night. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Heaven doth with us as we with torches do;Not light them for themselves: for if our virtuesDid not go forth of us, 'twere all alikeAs if we had them not. SHAKSPEARE. 

Much against Mrs. Nettley's will, she was despatched on herjourney homewards within a few days after. She begged to beallowed to stay yet a week or two, or three; but Elizabeth wasunmoveable. "It would make no difference, " she said, "or atleast I would rather you should go. You ought to be there --and I may as well learn at once to get used to it. "

"But it will be very bad for you, Miss Elizabeth. "

"I think it is right, Mrs. Nettley. "

So Mrs. Nettley went; and how their young lady passed her daysand bore the quietude and the sorrow of them, the rest of thehousehold marvelled together. 

"She'd die, if there was dyin' stuff in her, " said Clam; "butthere ain't. "

"What for should she die?" said Karen. 

"I'm as near dead as I can be, myself, " was Clam's conclusivereply. 

"What ails you, girl?"

"I can't catch my breath good among all these mountains, " saidClam. "I guess the hills spiles the air hereabouts. "

"Your young lady don't think so. "

"No, " said Clam, -- "she looks at the mountains as if she'dswaller them whole -- them and her Bible; -- only she looks intothat as if it would swaller her. "

"Poor bird! she's beat down; -- its too lonesome up here forher!" said Karen more tenderly than her wont was. 

"That ain't no sign she'll go, " said Clam. "She's as notionalas the Governor himself, when she takes a notion; only there'ssome sense in his, and you never know where the sense of hersis till it comes out. "

"The house is so still, it's pitiful to hear it, " said Karen. "I never minded it when there wa'n't nobody in it -- I knowedthe old family was all gone -- but now I hear it, seems to me, the whole day long. You can't hear a foot, when you ain't inthere. "

"That'll last awhile, maybe, " said Clam; "and then you'll havea row. 'Tain't in her to keep still more'n a certain length o'time; and when she comes out, there'll be a firing up, I tellye. "

"The Lord 'll keep his own, " said Karen rising from the table. Which sentence Clam made nothing of. 

Spite of her anticipations, the days, and the weeks, sped onsmoothly and noiselessly. Indeed _more_ quietness, and not less, seemed to be the order of them. Probably too much forElizabeth's good, if such a state of mere mind-life had beenof long lasting. It would not long have been healthy. The stirof passion, at first, was fresh enough to keep her thoughtsfresh; but as time went on there were fewer tears and a moresettled borne-down look of sorrow. Even her Bible, constantlystudied, -- even prayer, constantly made over it, did nothinder this. Her active nature was in an unnatural state; itcould not be well so. And it sometimes burst the bounds shehad set to it, and indulged in a passionate wrestling with theimage of joys lost and longed for. Meanwhile, the hot days ofAugust were passed, the first heats of September were slowlygone; and days and nights began to cool off in earnest towardsthe frosty weather. 

"If there ain't some way found to keep Miss Haye's eyes fromcryin', she won't have 'em to do anything else with. Andshe'll want 'em, some day. "

Clam, like Elizabeth of old, having nobody else to speak to, was sometimes driven to speak to the nearest at hand. 

"Is she cryin', now?" said Karen. 

"I don' know what _you_'d call it, " said Clam. "'Tain't muchlike other folks' cryin'. "

"Well there's a letter Anderese fetched -- you'd better take itto her as soon as it'll do. Maybe it'll do her good. "

"Where from?" said Clam seizing it. 

"Anderese fetched it from Mountain Spring. "

"Now I wish 'twas -- but it ain't! --" said Clam. "I'll take itto her anyhow. "

Elizabeth knew that _it wasn't_, as soon as she took it. Theletter was from the gentleman who had been her father's lawyerin the city. 

Mannahatta, Sept. 26, 1817. 

"Dear madam, "Upon arrangement of Mr. Haye's affairs, I regret to say, wefind it will take nearly all his effects to meet the standingliabilities and cover the failure of two or three largeoperations in which Mr. Haye had ventured more upon uncertaincontingencies than was his general habit in business matters. So little indeed will be left, at the best issue we can hopefor, that Mrs. Haye's interest, whose whole property, Isuppose you are aware, was involved, I grieve to say willamount to little or nothing. It were greatly to be wished thatsome settlement had in time been made for her benefit; butnothing of the kind was done, nor I suppose in thecircumstances latterly was possible. The will makes ampleprovision, but I am deeply pained to say, is, as mattersstand, but a nullity. I enclose a copy. 

"I have thought it right to advertise you of these painfultidings, and am, "Dear madam, with great respect, "Your obedient servant, "Dustus O. Brick. "

Elizabeth had read this letter, and pondered over it by turnshalf the day, when a startling thought for the first timeflashed into her mind. Rose's desolate condition! Lessdesolate than her own indeed, in so far that Rose had lessstrength to feel; but more desolate by far, because being asfriendless she was much more helpless than herself. "What willshe do, without money and friends? -- for she never had anynear and dear friends but father and me. Where can she live? -- "

Elizabeth jumped up and ran into the house to get away fromthe inference. But when she had sat down in her chair theinference stood before her. 

"Bring her here! -- I cannot. I cannot. It would ruin my life. "Then, clear and fair, stood the words she had been reading --'Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you --'

"But there is no bed-room for her but this -- or else therewill be no sitting-room for either of us; -- and then we musteat in the kitchen! --"

"_She_ has neither house, nor home, nor friend, nor money. Whatwouldst thou, in her place? --"

Elizabeth put her face in her hands and almost groaned. Shetook it up and looked out, but in all bright nature she couldfind nothing which did not side against her. She got up andwalked the room; then she sat down and began to consider whatarrangements would be necessary, and what would be possible. Then confessed to herself that it would not be _all_ bad to havesomebody to break her solitude, even anybody; then got overanother qualm of repugnance, and drew the table near her andopened her desk. 

Shahweetah, Sept. 26, 1817. 

"Dear Rose, "I am all alone, like you. Will you come here and let us dothe best we can together? I am at a place you don't like, butI shall not stay here all the time, and I think you can bearit with me for a while. I shall have things arranged so as tomake you as comfortable as you can be in such straitenedquarters, and expect you will come as soon as you can get agood opportunity. Whether you come by boat or not, part of theway, you will have to take the stage-coach from Pimpernelhere; and you must stop at the little village of MountainSpring, opposite Wut-a-qut-o. From there you can get here bywagon or boat. I can't send for you, for I have neither onenor the other. 

"Yours truly, dear Rose, "Elizabeth Haye. "

With the letter in her hand, Elizabeth went forth to thekitchen. 

"Karen, is there any sort of a cabinet-maker at MountainSpring?"

"What's that?" said Karen. 

"Is there any sort of a cabinet-maker at the village? -- acabinet-maker, -- somebody that makes tables and bedsteads, andthat sort of thing?"

"A furnitur' shop?" said Karen. 

"Yes -- something of that kind. Is there such a thing inMountain Spring?"

Karen shook her head. 

"They don't make nothin' at Mountain Spring. "

"Where do the people get their tables and chairs? where dothey go for them?"

"They go 'most any place, " said Karen; -- "sometimes they goesto Pimpernel, -- and maybe to Starlings, or to Deerford; theydon't go much nowheres. "

"Can I get such things at Pimpernel?"

"If you was there, you could, I s'pose, " said Karen. 

"Could Anderese get a horse and cart at the village, to go forme?"

"I guess he can find a wagon round somewheres, " said Karen. "You couldn't go in a cart handy. "

"I! -- no, but I want to send him, to fetch home a load ofthings. "

"How'll he know what to get?"

"I will tell him. Couldn't he do it?"

"If he knowed what was wanted, he could, " said Karen. "Me andhim 'll go, Miss Lizzie, and we'll do it. "

"You, Karen! I don't want to send you. "

"Guess I'll do the best, " said the old woman. "Anderesemightn't know what to fetch. What you want, Miss Lizzie?"

Elizabeth thought a moment whether she should ask Winthrop tosend up the things for her; but she could not bear to do it. 

"I want a bedstead, Karen, in the first place. "

"What sort'll a one?"

"The best you can find. "

"That'll be what'll spend the most money, " said Karenmusingly. 

"I don't care about that, but the nicest sort you can meetwith. And a bureau --"

"What's that?" said Karen. "I dun' know what that means. "

"To hold clothes -- with drawers -- like that in my room. "

"A cupboard?" said Karen; -- "some sort like that?"

"No, no; I'll shew you what I mean, in my room; it is called abureau. And a washstand -- a large one, if you can find it. Anda rocking-chair -- the handsomest one that can be had. "

"I know them two, " said Karen. "That'll be a load, MissLizzie. I don't b'lieve the wagon 'll hold no more. "

"The first fine day, Karen, I want you to go. "

"The days is all fine, I speck, hereabouts, " said Karen. "We'll start as quick as Anderese gets a wagon. "

"Who's comin', Miss 'Lizabeth?" said Clam as she met her younglady coming out of the kitchen. 

"I don't know -- possibly Mrs. Haye. I wish all things to be inreadiness for her. "

"Where'll she sleep, Miss 'Lizabeth, " said Clam with openingeyes. 

"Here. "

"Will she have this for her bedroom? -- And what'll you do, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"If she comes, we will eat in the kitchen. " And with thethought the young lady stepped back. 

"I forgot -- Karen, do you think the wagon will hold no more?Anderese must get a large one. I want a few neat chairs --plain ones -- cane-bottomed, or rush-bottomed will do; I wantthem for this room; for if this lady comes we shall have totake this for our eating-room. I don't want a table; we canmake this do; -- or we can take the one I use now; but we wantthe chairs. "

"Well, Miss Lizzie, you'll have to have 'em -- we'll manage topile 'em on someways. "

And Miss Haye withdrew. 

"Ain't this a start now?" said Clam after she had rubbed herknives in silence for several minutes. "Didn't I tell you so?"

"Tell what?" said Karen. 

"Why! that Miss 'Lizabeth couldn't keep quiet more'n longenough to get her spunk up. What in the name of variety is sheat work at now!"

"What's the matter with you?" grumbled Karen. 

"Why I tell you, " said Clam facing round, "them two love eachother like pison!"

"That's a queer way to love, " said Karen. 

"They hate each other then -- do you understand me? they hateso, one wouldn't thaw a piece of ice off the other's head ifit was freezin' her!"

"Maybe 'tain't jus' so, " said Karen. 

"What do you know about it!" said Clam contemptuously. 

"What do you, perhaps?" suggested Karen. 

"I know _my_ young lady, " said Clam rubbing her knives, "and Iknow t'other one. There ain't but one person in _this_ worldthat can make Miss 'Lizabeth keep her fire down -- but she doeshave an idee of mindin' him. "

"Who's that?" said Karen. 

"Somebody you don't know, I guess, " said Clam. 

"If 'twas all true, she wouldn't want her here, " said Karen. 

"It's all true, " said Clam, -- "'cept the last. _You_ don't knownothin', Karen. We'll see what a time there'll be when shecomes. Eat in here! --"

"She's eat in here afore now -- and I guess she can again, "said old Karen, in a tone of voice which spoke her by no meansso discomposed as Clam's words would seem to justify. 

Perhaps Elizabeth herself had a thought or two on the closequarters which would be the infallible result of Mrs. Haye'sseizure of the old 'keeping-room. '

The twenty-seventh, spite of Karen's understanding of theweather, was a rainy day. The twenty-eighth, Karen andAnderese went to Pimpernel on their furniture hunting, andcame back at night with the articles, selected somewhat inaccordance with a limited experience of the usual contents ofa cabinet-maker's warehouse. The very next day, Elizabeth setAnderese to foisting out and putting together her little oldboat, the Merry-go-round. Putting together, literally; she wasdropping to pieces from the effects of years and confinement. Anderese was hardly equal to the business; Elizabeth sent forbetter help from Mountain Spring, and watched rather eagerlythe restoring of her favourite to strength and beauty. Watchedand pressed the work, as if she was in a hurry. But aftertightening and caulking, the boat must be repainted. Elizabethwatched the doing of that; and bargained for a pair of lightoars with her friend the workman. He was an old, respectable-looking man, of no particular calling, that appeared. 

"Where was this here boat built?" he inquired one day as hewas at work and Elizabeth looking on. 

"It was built in Mannahatta. "

"A good while ago, likely?"

"Yes, it was. "

"Did this here belong to old Squire Landholm?"

"No. "

"'Twa'n't fetched here lately, I guess, was it?"

"No -- it has lain here a long time. "

"Who _did_ it belong to, then?"

"It belonged to me. "

"Is it your'n now?" said the man looking up at her. 

"No, " said Elizabeth colouring, -- "it is not; but it belongsto a friend of mine. "

"Was you ever in these parts before?"

"Some time ago. "

"Then you knew the old family, likely?"

"Yes, I did. "

"There was fine stuff in them Landholms, " said the old man, perhaps supplied with the figure by the timber he was nailing, -- "real what I call good stuff -- parents and children. Therewas a great deal of good in all of 'em; only the boys tooknotions they wouldn't be nothin' but ministers or lawyers orsome sort o' people that wears black coats and don't have toroll up their trowsers for nothin'. They were clever lads, too. I don't mean to say nothin' agin 'em. "

"Do you know how they're gettin' on?" he asked after a pauseon his part and on Elizabeth's. 

"I believe Asahel is with his father, -- gone West. "

"Ay, ay; but I mean the others -- them two that went toCollege. I ha'n't seen Rufus for a great spell -- I went downand fetched up Winthrop when his mother died. "

"Will you have paint enough to finish that gunwale?"

"Guess so, " said the old man looking into his paint-pot. "There's more oil in the bottle. What be them two doing now?Winthrop's a lawyer, ain't he?"

"Yes. "

"Well, he's made a smart one, ha'n't he? -- ain't he about assmart as any one they've got in Mannahatta?"

"I'm not a judge, " said Elizabeth, who could not quite keepher countenance. "I dare say he is. "

"He was my favourite, always, Winthrop was, -- the Governor, asthey called him. Well -- I'd vote for him if he was sot up forthat office -- or any other office -- if they'd do it while I'mabove ground. Where is he now? -- in Mannahatta?"

"Yes. "

"Where's t'other one -- the oldest -- Rufus -- where's he?"

"I don't know where he is. How soon will this do to be put inthe water, Mr. Underhill?"

"Well -- I guess it'll want somethin' of a dryin' fust. You canget along without it till next week, can't you?"

"Next week! and this is Tuesday! --"

"Yes -- will you want it afore that? It hadn't ought to be putin the water one day afore Monday -- if you want it to lookhandsome -- or to wear worth speakin' of. "

Miss Haye was silent, and the old man's brush made long sweepsback and forward over the shining gunwale. 

"You see, " Mr. Underhill went on, "it'll be all of night aforeI get the bottom of this here done. -- What's Rufus doin'? ishe got to be a minister yet?"

"No. "

"Another lawyer?"

"No. "

"What is he then?"

"I don't know -- I believe he was an engineer. "

"An engineer?" said the old man standing up and looking ather. "Do you mean he's one o' them fellers that sees to theingines on the boats? -- _that_ ain't much gettin' up in theworld. I see one o' them once -- I went to Mannahatta in theboat, just to see what 'twas -- is Rufus one o' them smuttyfellers standing over the fires there?"

"Not at all; it's a very different business, and asrespectable as that of a clergyman or lawyer. "

"There ain't anything more respectable than what his fatherwas, " said Mr. Underhill. "But Rufus was too handsome -- hewanted to wear shiny boots always. "

Elizabeth walked off. 

So it was not till the early part of October that the littleboat was painted and dried and in the water; and very nice shelooked. Painted in the old colours; Elizabeth had beenparticular about that. Rose in the meantime had been heardfrom. She was coming, very soon, only staying for something, it wasn't very clearly made out what, that would however lether go in a few days. Elizabeth threw the letter down, withthe mental conclusion that it was "just like Rose;" andresolved that her arms should be in a good state of trainingbefore the 'few days' were over. 

"Who's goin' in this little concern?" said Mr. Underhill as hepushed it into the water. "Looks kind o' handsome, don't it?"

"Very nice!" said Elizabeth. 

"That old black feller ain't up to rowin' you anywhere, is he?I don't believe he is. "

"I'll find a way to get about in her, somehow. "

"You must come over and see our folks -- over the other side. My old mother's a great notion to see you --" said he, pullingthe boat round into place, -- "and I like she should have whatshe's a fancy for. "

"Thank you, " said Elizabeth; with about as much heed to hiswords as if a coney had requested her to take a look into hisburrow. But a few minutes after, some thought made her speakagain. 

"Have you a mother living, sir?"

"Ay, " he said with a little laugh, "she ain't a great dealolder than I be. She's as spry in her mind, as she was whenshe was sixteen. Now -- will you get into this?"

"Not now. Whereabouts do you live?"

"Just over, " he said, pointing with his thumb over hisshoulder and across the river, -- "the only house you can see, under the mountain there -- just under Wut-a-qut-o. 'Tain't avery sociable place and we are glad to see visiters. "

He went; and Elizabeth only waited to have him out of sight, when she took gloves and oars and planted herself in thelittle 'Merry-go-round. '

"My arms won't carry me far to-day, " she thought, as shepushed away from the rocks and slowly skimmed out over thesmooth water. But how sweet to be dappling it again with heroar-blades, -- how gracefully they rose and fell -- howrefreshing already that slight movement of her arms -- howdeliciously independent and alone she felt in her lightcarriage. Even the thrill of recollection could not overcomethe instant's pleasure. Slowly and lovingly Elizabeth's oarsdipped into the water; slowly and stealthily the little boatglided along. She presently was far enough out to see Mr. Underhill's bit of a farmhouse, sitting brown and lone at thefoot of the hill, close by the water's edge. Elizabeth lay onher oars and stopped and looked at it. 

"Go over there! Ridiculous! Why should I? --"

"And why shouldn't I?" came in another whisper. "Do me no harm-- give them some pleasure. It is doing as I would be done by. "

"But I can't give pleasure to all the old women in the land, "she went on with excessive disgust at the idea. 

"And this is only _one_ old woman, " went on the other quietwhisper, -- "and kindness is kindness, especially to the oldand lonesome. --"

It was very disagreeable to think of; Elizabeth rebelled at itstrongly; but she could not get rid of the idea that Winthropin her place would go, and would make himself exceedinglyacceptable; she knew he would; and in the light of that idea, more than of any other argument that could be brought to bear, Elizabeth's conscience troubled her. She lay still on her oarsnow and then to think about it; she could not go on and getrid of the matter. She pondered Winthrop's fancied doing inthe circumstances; she knew how he would comport himself amongthese poor people; she felt it; and then it suddenly flashedacross her mind, "Even Christ pleased not himself;" -- and sheknew then why Winthrop did not. Elizabeth's head drooped for aminute. "I'll go, " -- she said to herself. 

Her head was raised again then, and with a good will the oarsmade the little boat go over the water. She was elated to findher arms so strong, stronger now than they had been fiveminutes ago; and she took her way down towards the bottom ofthe bay, where once she had gone huckleberrying, and where arich growth of wood covered the banks and shewed in one or twoof its members here and there already a touch of frost. Hereand there an orange or reddish branch of maple leaves -- ayellow-headed butternut, partly bare -- a ruddying dogwood ordogwood's family connection, -- a hickory shewing suspicions oftawny among its green. A fresh and rich wall-side of beautythe woody bank was. Elizabeth pulled slowly along, coastingthe green wilderness, exulting in her freedom and escape fromall possible forms of home annoyance and intrusion; but thatexulting, only a very sad break in a train of weary andpainful thoughts and remembrances. It was the only break tothem; for just then sorrowful things had got the upper hand;and even the Bible promises to which she had clung, and thefaith that laid hold of them, and the hopes that grew out ofthem, could not make her be other than downcast anddesponding. Even a Christian life, all alone in the world, with nobody and for nobody, seemed desolate and uncheering. Winthrop Landholm led such a life, and was not desolate, noruncheered. -- "But he is very different from me; he has beenlong a traveller on the road where my unsteady feet have butjust set themselves; he is a man and I am a woman!" -- And onceElizabeth even laid down her oars, and her head upon the handsthat had held them, to shed the tears that would have theirown peculiar way of comfort and relief. The bay, and the boat, and the woody shore, and the light, and the time of year, allhad too much to say about her causes of sorrow. But tearswrought their own relief; and again able to bear the burden oflife, Elizabeth pulled slowly and quietly homewards. 

Looking behind her as she neared the rocks, to make sure thatshe was approaching them in a right direction, she wasstartled to see a man's figure standing there. Startled, because it was not the bent-shouldered form of Mr. Underhill, nor the slouching habit of Anderese; but tall, stately andwell put on. It was too far to see the face; and in her onestartled look Elizabeth did not distinctly recognize anything. Her heart gave a pang of a leap at the possibility of itsbeing Winthrop; but she could not tell whether it were he orno; she could not be sure that it was, yet who else shouldcome there with that habit of a gentleman? Could Mr. Brick? --No, he had never such an air, oven at a distance. It was notMr. Brick. Neither was it Mr. Herder; Mr. Herder was tooshort. Every nerve now trembled, and her arms pulled nervouslyand weakly her boat to the shore. When might she look again?She did not till she must; then her look went first to therocks, with a vivid impression of that dark figure standingabove them, seen and not seen -- she guided her boat incarefully -- then just grazing the rocks she looked up. Thepang and the start came again, for though not Winthrop it wasWinthrop's brother. It was Rufus. 

The nervousness and the flutter quieted themselves, almost;but probably Elizabeth could not have told then by the impulseof what feeling or feelings it was, that she coolly lookeddown again and gave her attention so steadily and minutely tothe careful bestowment of her skiff, before she would set footon the rocks and give her hand and eye to the person who hadbeen waiting to claim them. By what impulse also she left itto him entirely to say what he was there for, and gave him nohelp whatever in her capacity of hostess. 

"You are surprised to see me, " said Rufus after he had shakenthe lady's hand and helped her on shore. 

"Rather. I could not imagine at first who it might be. "

"I am glad to find you looking so well, " said the gentlemangravely. "Very well indeed. "

"It is the flush of exercise, " said Elizabeth. "I was notlooking well, a little while ago; and shall not be, in alittle time to come. "

"Rowing is good for you, " said Rufus. 

"It is pleasant, " said Elizabeth. "I do it for thepleasantness, not for the goodness. "

"Rather severe exercise, isn't it?"

"Not at all!" said Elizabeth a little scornfully. "I am notstrong-armed just now -- but it is nothing to move a boat likethat. "

"Some ladies would not think so. "

They had been slowly moving up the path towards the house. Asthey reached the level of the grassy garden ground, where thepath took a turn, Rufus stopped and faced about upon theriver. The fair October evening air and light were there, overthe water and over the land. 

"It is beautiful!" he said somewhat abstractedly. 

"You are not so fond of it as your brother, Mr. Landholm, "said Elizabeth. 

"What makes you think so?"

There was quick annoyance in his tone, but Miss Haye was notcareful. 

"Am I wrong? Are you as fond of it?"

"I don't know, " said Rufus. "His life has been as steadilygiven to his pursuits as mine has to mine. "

"Perhaps more. But what then? I always thought you loved thecity. "

"Yes, " Rufus said thoughtfully, -- "I did; -- but I love thistoo. It would be a very cold head and heart that did not. "

Elizabeth made no reply; and the two enjoyed it in silence fora minute or two longer. 

"For what do you suppose I have intruded upon you at thistime, Miss Haye?"

"For some particular purpose -- what, I don't know. I have beentrying to think. "

"I did not venture to presume upon making an ordinary call ofcivility. "

What _less_ are you going to do? -- thought Elizabeth, looking athim with her eyes a little opened. 

"I have been -- for a few months past -- constantly engaged inbusiness at the South; and it is but a chance which permittedme to come here lately -- I mean, to Mannahatta -- on a visit tomy brother. I am not willing to let slip any suchopportunity. "

"I should think you would not, " said Elizabeth, wondering. 

"There I heard of you. -- Shall we walk down again?"

"If you please. I don't care whether up or down. "

"I could not go home without turning a little out of my way topay this visit to you. I hope I shall be forgiven. "

"I don't know what I have to forgive, yet, " said Elizabeth. 

He was silent, and bit his lip nervously. 

"Will you permit me to say -- that I look back with greatpleasure to former times passed in your society -- inMannahatta; -- that in those days I once ventured to entertaina thought which I abandoned as hopeless, -- I had no right tohope, -- but that since I have heard of the misfortunes whichhave befallen you, it has come back to me again with a power Ihave not had the strength to resist -- along with my sympathyfor those misfortunes. Dear Miss Haye, I hope for yourforgiveness and noble interpretation, when I say that I havedared to confess this to you from the impulse of the verycircumstances which make it seem most daring. "

"The misfortunes you allude to, are but one, " said Elizabeth. 

"One -- yes, -- but not one in the consequences it involved. "

"At that rate of reckoning, " said Elizabeth, "there would beto such a thing as _one_ misfortune in the world. "

"I was not thinking of one, " said Rufus quietly. "The actualloss you have suffered is one shared by many -- pardon me, itdoes not always imply equal deprivation, nor the same need ofa strong and helping friendly hand. "

Elizabeth answered with as much quietness, --

"It is probably good for me that I have care on my hands -- itwould be a weak wish, however natural, to wish that I couldthrow off on some agent the charge of my affairs. "

"The charge I should better like, " said Rufus looking at her, -- "the only charge I should care for, -- would be the charge oftheir mistress. "

An involuntary quick movement of Elizabeth put several feetbetween them; then after half a minute, with a flushed faceand somewhat excited breathing, she said, not knowingprecisely what she said, "I would rather give you the charge of my property, sir. Theother is, you don't very well know what. "

"My brother would be the better person to perform the firstduty, probably, " Rufus returned, with a little of his old-fashioned haughtiness of style. 

Elizabeth's lips parted and her eye flashed, but as she wasnot looking at him, it only flashed into the water. Both stoodproudly silent and still. Elizabeth was the first to speak, and her tone was gentle, whatever the words might be. 

"You cannot have your wish in this matter, Mr. Landholm, andit would be no blessing to you if you could. I trust it willbe no great grief to you that you cannot. "

"My grief is my own, " said Rufus with a mixture ofexpressions. "How should that be no blessing to me, which itis the greatest desire of my life to obtain, Miss Haye?"

"I don't think it is, " said Elizabeth. "At least it will notbe. You will find that it is not. It is not the desire ofmine, Mr. Landholm. "

There was silence again, a mortified silence on one part, --for a little space. 

"You will do justice to my motives?" he said. "I have a rightto ask that, for I deserve so much of you. If my suit had beenan ungenerous one, it might better have been pressed years agothan now. "

"Why was it not?" said Elizabeth. 

It was the turn of Rufus's eyes to flash, and his lips andteeth saluted each other vexedly. 

"It would probably have been as unavailing then as now, " hereplied. "I bid you good evening, Miss Haye. I ask nothingfrom you. I beg pardon for my unfortunate and inopportuneintrusion just now. I shall annoy you no more. "

Elizabeth returned his parting bow, and then stood quite stillwhere he left her while he walked up the path they had justcome down. She did not move, except her head, till he hadpassed out of sight and was quite gone; then she seatedherself on one of the rocks near which her boat was moored, and clasping her hands round her knees, looked down into thewater. What to find there? -- the grounds of the disturbance inwhich her whole nature was working? it lay deeper than that. It wrought and wrought, whatever it was -- the colour flushedand the lips moved tremulously, -- her brow knit, -- till atlast the hands came to her eyes and her face sunk down, andpassionate tears, passionate sobbing, told what Elizabethcould tell in no other way. Tears proud and humble -- rebellingand submitting. 

"It is good for me, I suppose, " she said as she at last roseto her feet, fearing that her handmaid might come to seek her, -- "my proud heart needed to be brought down in some such way --needed to be mortified even to this. Even to this last pointof humiliation. To have my desire come and mock me so and asit were shake my wish in my face! But how could _he_ think ofme? -- he could not -- he is too good -- and I am a poor thing, that may be made good, I suppose --"

Tears flowed again, hot and unbidden; for she was walking upto the house and did not want anybody to see them. And intruth before she was near the house Clam came out and met herhalf way down the path. 

"Miss 'Lizabeth, -- I don' know as you want to see nobody --"

"Who is there for me to see?"

"Well -- there's an arrival -- I s'pect we'll have to havesupper in the kitchen to-night. "

CHAPTER XV. 

With weary steps I loiter on, Though always under altered skies;The purple from the distance dies, My prospect and horizon gone. TENNYSON. 

Whether or not Elizabeth wanted to see anybody she did not say-- except to herself. She walked into the house, fortified withall the muniments of her spirit for the meeting. It was aquiet one on the whole. Rose cried a good deal, but Elizabethbore it without any giving way; saving once or twice a slighttwinkling of lip and eye, instantly commanded back. Rose hadall the demonstration to herself, of whatever kind. Elizabethsat still, silent and pale; and when she could get free wentand ordered supper. 

The supper was in Mrs. Landholm's old kitchen; they two aloneat the table. Perhaps Elizabeth thought of the old time, perhaps her thoughts had enough to do with the present; shewas silent, grave and stern, not wanting in any kind carenevertheless. Rose took tears and bread and butter by turns;and then sat with her face in her handkerchief all theevening. It seemed a very, very long evening to her hostess, whose face bespoke her more tired, weary, and grave, withevery succeeding half hour. Why was this companion, whosecompany of all others she least loved, to be yet her sole andonly companion, of all the world? Elizabeth by turns frettedand by turns scolded herself for being ungrateful, since sheconfessed that even Rose was better for her than to be utterlyalone. Yet Rose was a blessing that greatly irritated hercomposure and peace of mind. So the evening literally woreaway. But when at last Rose was kissing her hostess for goodnight, between sobs she stammered, "I am very glad to be hereLizzie, -- it seems like being at home again. "

Elizabeth gave her no answer besides the answering kiss; buther eyes filled full at that, and as soon as she reached herown room the tears came in long and swift flow, but sweeterand gentler and softer than they had flowed lately. And verythankful that she had done right, very soothed and refreshedthat her right doing had promised to work good, she laidherself down to sleep. 

But her eyes had hardly closed when the click of her door-latch made them open again. Rose's pretty night-cap waspresenting itself. 

"Lizzie! -- aren't you afraid without a man in the house?"

"There _is_ a man in the house. "

"Is there?"

"Yes. Anderese -- Karen's brother. "

"But he is old. "

"He's a man. "

"But aren't you ever afraid?"

"It's no use to be afraid, " said Elizabeth. "I am accustomedto it. I don't often think of it. "

"I heard such queer noises, " said Rose whispering. "I didn'tthink of anything before, either. May I come in here?"

"It's of no use, Rose, " said Elizabeth. "You would be just asmuch afraid to-morrow night. There is nothing in the world tobe afraid of. "

Rose slowly took her night-cap away and Elizabeth's head wentdown on her pillow. But her closing eyes opened again at theclick of the latch of the other door. 

"Miss 'Lizabeth! --"

"Well, Clam? --"

"Karen's all alive, and says she ain't goin' to live nolonger. "

"What! --"

"Karen. "

"What's the matter?"

"Maybe she's goin', as she says she is; but I think maybe sheain't. "

"Where is she?" said Elizabeth jumping up. 

"In here, " said Clam. "She won't die out of the kitchen. "

Elizabeth threw on her dressing-gown and hurried out; thinkingby the way that she had got into a thorn forest ofdifficulties, and wishing the daylight would look through. Karen was sitting before the fire, wrapped up in shawls, inthe rocking-chair. 

"What's the matter, Karen?"

Karen's reply was to break forth into a tremulous scrap of herold song, --

"'I'm going, -- I'm going, -- I'm going, --'"

"Stop, " said Elizabeth. "Don't sing. Tell me what's thematter. "

"It's nothin' else, Miss Lizzie, " said the old woman. "I'mgoin' -- I think I be. "

"Why do you think so? How do you feel?"

"I don't feel no ways, somehow; -- it's a kinder givin' away. Ithink I'm just goin', ma'am. "

"But what _ails_ you, Karen?"

"It's time, " said Karen, jerking herself backwards andforwards in her rocking-chair. "I'm seventy years and moreold. I hain't got no more work to do. I'm goin'; and I'mready, praise the Lord! They're most all gone; -- and the restis comin' after; -- it's time old Karen was there. "

"But that's no sign you mayn't live longer, " said Elizabeth. "Seventy years is nothing. How do you feel sick?"

"It's all over, Miss Lizzie, " said the old woman. "Its givin'away. I'm goin' -- I know I be. The time's come. "

"I will send Anderese for a doctor -- where is there one?"

Karen shivered and put her head in her hands, before shespoke. 

"There ain't none -- I don't want none -- there was Doctor Kippto Mountain Spring, but he ain't no' count; and he's goneaway. "

"Clam, do speak to Anderese and ask him about it, and tell himto go directly, if there is any one he can go for. -- What canI do for you, Karen?"

"I guess nothin', Miss Lizzie. -- If the Governor was here, he'd pray for me; but it ain't no matter -- I've been prayin'all my life -- It's no matter if I can't pray good just rightnow. The Lord knows all. "

Elizabeth stood silent and still. 

"Shall I -- would you like to have me read for you?" she askedsomewhat timidly. 

"No, " said Karen -- "not now -- I couldn't hear. Read foryourself, Miss Lizzie. I wish the Governor was here. "

What a throbbing wish to the same effect was in Elizabeth'sheart! She stood, silent, sorrowful, dismayed, watching Karen, wondering at herself in her changed circumstances and life andoccupation; and wondering if she were only going down into thevalley of humiliation, or if she had got to the bottom. And, almost thinking Karen to be envied if she were, as she said, 'going. '

"What's the matter?" said Rose and her night-cap at the otherdoor. 

"Karen don't feel very well. Don't come here, Rose. "

"What are you there for?"

"I want to be here. You go to bed and keep quiet -- I'll tellyou another time. "

"Is she sick?"

"Yes -- I don't know -- Go in, Rose, and be quiet!"

Which Rose did. Clam came back and reported that there was nodoctor to be sent for, short of a great many miles. Elizabeth's heart sunk fearfully. What could she and hercompanions do with a dying woman? -- if she were really that. Karen crept nearer the fire, and Clam built it up and made itblaze. Then she stood on one side, and her young mistress onthe other. 

"Go to bed, Miss 'Lizabeth, " said Clam. "I'll see to her. "

But Elizabeth did not move so much as an eyelid. 

"I don't want nothin', " said Karen presently. "Miss Lizzie, ifyou see the Governor -- tell him --"

"Tell him what?"

"Tell him to hold on, -- will you? -- the way his mother wentand the way he's a goin'. Tell him to hold on till he getsthere. Will you tell him?"

"Certainly! I will tell him anything you please. "

Karen was silent for a little space, and then began again. 

"Is't _your_ way?"

Elizabeth's lips moved a little, but they closed and she madeno answer. 

"Mis' Landholm went that way, and Governor's goin', and I'mgoin' too. 

"'I'm going, -- I'm going, -- I'm --'"

"Do you feel better, Karen?" said Elizabeth interrupting her. 

"I'm goin' -- I don' know how soon axactly, Miss Lizzie -- but Ifeel it. I am all givin' away. It's time. I've seen my lifeall through, and I'm ready. I'm ready -- praise the Lord. I wasready a great while ago, but it wa'n't the Lord's time and nowif he pleases, I'm ready. "

"Wouldn't you feel better if you were to go to your own roomand lie down?"

Karen made no answer for some time and then only was halfunderstood to say that "this was the best place. " Elizabethdid not move. Clam fetched a thick coarse coverlid andwrapping herself in it, lay down at full length on the floor. 

"Go to bed, Miss 'Lizabeth, -- I'm settled. I'll see to her. Iguess she ain't goin' afore mornin'. "

"You will go to sleep, Clam, and then she will have nobody todo anything for her. "

"I'll wake up once in a while, Miss 'Lizabeth, to see shedon't do nothin' to me. "

Elizabeth stood another minute, thinking bitterly howinvaluable Winthrop would be, in the very place where she knewherself so valueless. Another sharp contrast of their twoselves; and then she drew up a chair to the fire and sat downtoo; determined at least to do the little she could do, giveher eyes and her presence. Clam's entreaties andrepresentations were of no avail. Karen made none. 

They watched by her, or at least Elizabeth did, through hourafter hour. She watched alone, for Clam slept and snored mostcomfortably; and Karen's poor head much of the time rested inher hands. Whether conscious or unconscious, she was veryquiet; and her watcher trimmed the fire and mused with nointerruption. At first with much fear and trembling; for shedid not know how soon Karen's prophecy might come true; but asthe night wore on and no change was to be seen or felt, thisfeeling quieted down and changed into a very sober and sadreview of all the things of her own life, in the past and inthe future. The present was but a point, she did not dwell onit; yet in that point was the sweetest and fairest thing hermind had in possession; her beginning of a new life and herhold of the promise which assured her that strength should notbe wanting to live it until the end. She did look over herseveral present duties and made up her mind to the self-denying and faithful performance of them; but then her longingcame back, for a human hand to hold her and help her on thejourney's way. And her head bowed to the chair-back; and itwas a good while before she recollected again to look at thefire or at her charge in front of it. 

Karen's attitude was more easy; and Elizabeth excessivelyfatigued, with pain as well as weariness, felt inclined tosteal off to bed and leave her door open, that she mightreadily hear if she was wanted. But it occurred to her thatWinthrop for his own ease never would have deserted his post. She dismissed the thought of sleep and rest; and disposedherself to wear out the remnant of the night as she had begunit; in attendance on what she was not sure needed herattendance. 

A longer night Elizabeth never knew, and with fear in thefirst part and watching in the last part of' it, the morningfound her really haggard and ill. But Karen was no worse; andnot knowing what to think about her, but comforting herselfwith the hope that at least her danger was not imminent, Elizabeth went to bed, coveting sleep inexpressibly, for itsforgetfulness as well as its rest. But sleep was not to be hadso promptly. 

"Miss 'Lizabeth! --" And there stood Clam before her openingeyes, as fresh and as black as ever, with a clean turban inthe last state of smartness. 

"What _is_ the matter?"

"Where will you have breakfast? Karen ain't goin' at all atpresent. Where will you have it?"

"Nowhere. "

"Will I clear her out of the kitchen?"

"No! -- let her alone. Mrs. Haye's woman may see to breakfastin her mistress's room -- I don't want anything -- but sleep. Let Karen have and do just what she wants. "

"Won't Clam do as much!" -- said the toss of the clean turbanas its owner went out of the room. And the issue was, a verynice little breakfast brought to Miss Haye's bed-side in thespace of half an hour. Elizabeth was waked up and lookeddubious. 

"You want it, " said her handmaid. "The Governor said you wasto take it. "

"Is he here!" exclaimed Elizabeth, with an amount of fire ineye and action that, as Clam declared afterwards, "had like tohave made her upset everything. " But she answered demurely, "He ain't here just yet. I guess he's comin', though. "

Elizabeth's eye went down, and an eye as observant if not sobrilliant as her own, watched how the pink tinge rose andmounted in the cheeks as she betook herself to the bread andcoffee. "Ain't she eatin' her breakfast like a good child!"said Clam to herself. "_That_ put her down. "

And with a "Now you'll sleep --" Clam carried off the breakfasttray, and took care her mistress should have no seconddisturbance from anybody else. Elizabeth only heard once ortwice in the course of the day that nothing was wanted fromher; so slept her sleep out. 

It was slept out at last, and Elizabeth got up and began todress. Or rather, took her dressing-comb in hand and plantedherself in front of the window, and there forgot what she hadto do. It was a fine afternoon of October, late in the day. Itwas very fair outside. The hills touched here and there intheir green with a frost-spot -- yellow, or tawny, or red; theriver water lying very calm; and a calm sky over-head; the airas pure as though vapours and mists were refined away forever. The distant trees of the woodland shewed in rounddistinct masses of foliage, through such an atmosphere; therocky shore edge cut sharp against the water; the nearercedars around the home valley seemed to tell their individualleaves. Here and there in some one of them a Virginiacreeper's luxuriant wreaths were colouring with suspicioustokens of crimson. Not in their full brilliancy yet, the treesand the vine-leaves were in fair preparation; and fancy couldnot imagine them more fair than they looked that afternoon. 

"So bright without! -- and so dark within!" -- Elizabeththought. "When will it end -- or is it only beginning? Such aflood of brightness was over me a little while ago, -- and now, there is one burden in one room, and another in another room, and I myself am the greatest burden of all. Because my lifehas nothing to look forward to -- in this world -- and heaven isnot enough; I want something in this world. -- Yes, I do. -- YetWinthrop Landholm has nothing more than I have, in thisworld's things, and he don't feel like me. What is the reason?Why is his face _always_ so at rest, -- so bright -- so strong?Ah, it must be that he is so much better than I! -- he _has_more, not of this world's things; religion is something to himthat it is not to me; he must love his Master far better thanI do. -- Then religion might be more to me. -- It shall be -- Iwill try; -- but oh! if I had never seen another Christian inall my life, how well his single example would make me knowthat religion is a strong reality. What a reward his will be!I wonder how many besides me he will have drawn to heaven -- hedoes not dream that he has ever done me any good. Yet it ispleasant to owe so much to him -- and it's bitter! --"

"You'll tire yourself with lookin', Miss 'Lizabeth, " said Clambehind her. "Mannahatta ain't so far off as that. "

Elizabeth started a little from her fixed attitude and beganto handle her dressing-comb. 

"'Taint so far folks can't get here, I guess. "

"Clam!" -- said her mistress facing about. 

"Well, Miss Lizzie --"

"Go and take care of Karen. I don't want you. "

"_She_ don't want me, " said Clam. "And you've had no dinner. "

"Do as I tell you. I shall not have any. "

With this spur, Elizabeth was soon dressed, and then walkedinto Mrs. Haye's room. Rose apparently had had leisure formeditation and had made up her mind upon several things; buther brow changed as her cousin came in. 

"Lizzie -- Why you've been up all night, Emma says. "

"That's nothing. I have been down all day. "

"But what's the matter with this old woman?"

"I don't know. She don't know herself. "

"But Emma said she thought she was dying?"

"So she did. I don't know whether she is right or not. "

"Dying! -- is she!" said Rose with a little scream. 

"I don't know. I hope not, so soon as she thinks. She is noworse to-night. "

"But what are you going to do?"

"Nothing -- more than I have done. "

"But are you going to stay here?"

"Stay here, Rose! --"

"Yes -- I mean -- who's going to take care of her? And isn't sheyour cook?"

A curious quick gleam of a laugh passed over Elizabeth's face;it settled graver than before. 

"Clam can cook all you and I want. "

"But who's going to take care of her?"

"I have sent for help, and for a doctor. "

"Haven't you sent for a doctor before! Why Lizzie!"

"I sent early this morning. The messenger had to go a numberof miles. "

"And isn't there anybody about the house but Clam and Emma?"

"Anderese is here. I sent somebody else. "

"What use is an old thing like that about a place?"

Elizabeth was silent. The cloud gathered on Rose's face, andas if that it might not cast its shadow on her cousin, shelooked out of the window. Then Clam came in. 

"Where'll supper be, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"Is Karen in the kitchen?"

"Oh! -- I won't have tea in there!" said Rose with one of herold little screams. 

"Let it be here, Clam. "

"What'll it be, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"Anything you please. "

"There's nothing in the house to be pleased with, " said Clam;"and you've had no dinner. "

"Bread and butter and tea -- and boil an egg. "

"That would be pleasant, " said Clam, capacity and fun shiningout of every feature; -- "but Karen's hens don't lay no eggswhen she ain't round. "

"Bread and butter and tea, then. "

"Butter's gone, " said Clam. 

"Bread and cold meat, then. "

"Fresh meat was all eat up days ago; and you and Mis' Hayedon't make no 'count of ham. "

Elizabeth got up and went out to Anderese and despatched himto Mountain Spring after what forage he could find. Then froma sense of duty went back to her cousin. Rose was looking outof the window again when she came in, and kept silence for alittle space; but silence was never Rose's forte. 

"Lizzie -- what makes you live in such a place?"

"It was the pleasantest place I could find, " said her cousin, with a tone of suppressed feeling. 

"It's so lonely!" said Rose. 

"It suited me. "

"But it isn't safe, " said Rose. "What if something happened toyou, with nobody about, -- what would you do?"

"It has not been a subject of fear with me, " said Elizabeth. "I haven't thought about it. "

"Who comes to see you here? anybody?"

"No. Who should come?" said Elizabeth sternly. "Whom should Iwant to see?"

"Don't you want to see anybody, ever? I do. I don't like to bein a desert so. "

Elizabeth was silent, with a set of the lips that told ofthoughts at work. 

"Doesn't Winthrop Landholm come here?"

"No!"

"I'm not used to it, " said Rose whimpering, -- "I can't liveso. It makes me feel dreadfully. "

"Whom do _you_ want to see, Rose?" said Elizabeth, with anexpression that ought to have reminded her companion whom shewas dealing with. 

"I don't care who -- any one. It's dreadful to live so, and seenothing but the leaves shaking and the river rolling and thisgreat empty place. "

"Empty!" said Elizabeth, with again a quick glancing laugh. "Well! -- you are yourself yet! But at any rate the leavesdon't shake much to-day. "

"They did last night, " said Rose. "I was so frightened Ididn't know what to do, and with no man in the house either, good for anything -- I didn't sleep a wink till after oneo'clock. "

"Was your sleep ever disturbed by anything of more importancethan the wind?"

"I don't know what you mean, " said Rose in tears. "I thinkyou're very unkind! --"

"What would you like me to do, Rose?"

"Let's go away from here. "

"Where?"

"I don't care -- to Mannahatta. "

"What do you want to do in Mannahatta?"

"Why, nothing, -- what everybody does -- live like other people. I shall die here. "

"Is the memory of the best friend you ever had, so littleworth, Rose, that you are in a hurry to banish it your companyalready?"

"I don't know what you mean, " said Rose, with one of her oldpouts and then bursting into fresh weeping. "I don't know whyone should be miserable any more than one can help. I havebeen miserable enough, I am sure. Oh Lizzie! -- I think you'revery unkind! --"

Elizabeth's face was a study; for the fire in her eyes shonethrough water, and every feature was alive. But her lips onlymoved to tremble. 

"I won't stay here!" said Rose. "I'll go away and dosomething. I don't care what I do. I dare say there's enoughleft for me to live upon; and I can do without Emma. I canlive somehow, if not quite as well as you do. "

"Hush, Rose, and keep a little sense along with you, " saidElizabeth. 

"There _must_ be enough left for me somehow, " Rose went on, sobbing. "Nobody had any right to take my money. It was mine. Nobody else had a right to it. It is mine. I ought to haveit. "

"Rose! --"

Rose involuntarily looked up at the speaker who was standingbefore her, fire flashing from eye and lip, like the relationsof Queen Gulnare in the fairy story. 

"Rose! -- do not dare speak to me in that way! -- ever again! --whatever else you do. I will leave you to get back yoursenses. "

With very prompt and decided action, Miss Haye sought herrowing gloves in her own room, put them on, and went down tothe rocks where the Merry-go-round lay. She stopped not tolook at anything; she loosened the boat and pushed out intothe water. And quick and smartly the oars were pulled, tillthe skiff was half way over the river towards Mr. Underhill'shouse. Suddenly there they stopped. Elizabeth's eyes were benton the water about two yards from the stern of the boat; whilethe paddles hung dripping, dripping more and more slowly, atthe sides, and the little skiff floated gently up with thetide. But if Elizabeth's eyes were looking into nature, it washer own; her face grew more settled and grave and thensorrowful every minute; and at last the paddle-handles werethrown across the boat and her arms and her head rested uponthem. And the little skiff floated gently up stream. 

It had got some distance above Mr. Underhill's, when itsmistress lifted her head and looked about, with wet eyelashes, to see where she was. Then the boat's head was turned, andsome steady pulling brought her to the gravelly beach in frontof Mr. Underhill's house. Its owner was luckily there to helpher out. 

"Well, I declare that's clever of you, " said he, as he graspedthe bow of the little vessel to draw it further up. "I didn'tmuch expect you'd come when I asked you. Why you can row, realsmart. "

"I don't see how I am going to get out, Mr. Underhill. "

"Step up on there, can't you -- I'll hold her, -- can you jump?"--

"But Mr. Underhill, that's going to do no good to my boat. --"

"What aint? --"

"That gravel -- grating and grinding on it, as the tide makes. "

"'Twon't do nothin' -- it'll just stay still so. Well, you goin and speak to mother, and I'll see to her. I didn't know youcould row so smart, -- real handsome!"

"I learnt a good while ago, " said Elizabeth. "I'll not be gonelong, Mr. Underhill. "

Up the neglected green slope she ran, wondering at herself thewhile. What new steps were these, which Miss Haye was nottaking for her own pleasure. What a strange visit was this, which her heart shrank from more and more as she neared thehouse door. 

The house was tenanted by sundry younger fry of the femininegender, of various ages, who met Elizabeth with wonder equalto her own, and a sort of mixed politeness and curiosity towhich her experience had no parallel. By the fireside sat theold grandam, very old, and blind, as Elizabeth now perceivedshe was. Miss Haye drew near with the most utter want ofknowledge what to do or say to such a person, -- how to givethe pleasure she had come to give. She hoped the mere fact ofher coming and presence would do it, for to anything furthershe felt herself unequal. The old lady looked up curiously, hearing the noise of entering feet and a stranger's amongthem. 

"Will you tell your grandmother who I am, " Elizabeth asked, with a shy ignorance how to address her, and an exceedingreluctance to it. 

"Grand'ma, " said the eldest girl, "here is Miss Haye, -- theyoung lady from Shahweetah -- she's here. "

The old woman turned her sightless eyes towards her visiter, got up and curtseyed. 

"Don't do that, " said Elizabeth, taking a seat near her. "Mr. Underhill asked me some time ago to come and see his mother. "

"I've heerd of ye, " said the old woman. "'Siah was over toyour place, makin' of a boat, or mendin', or somethin', hetelled me. I'm glad to see ye. How did ye come across?"

"In a boat -- in the boat he mended for me. "

"Have you got somebody to row ye over?"

"I rowed myself over. "

"Why did ye? -- ain't ye afeard? I wouldn't ha' thought! 'Siahsaid she was a slim handsome girl, as one would see in thecountry. "

"Well, I can row, " said Elizabeth colouring; for she had aninstant sense that several pairs of eyes _not_ blind werecomparing the report with the reality. 

"Be you the owner of Shahweetah now?"

"Yes. "

"I heerd it was so. And what's become of the old family?"

"They are scattered. Mr. Landholm is gone West, with one ofhis sons; the others are in different places. "

"And the girl is dead, ain't she?"

"Winnie? -- yes. "

Elizabeth knew that!

"The mother was gone first -- to a better place. She had a finelot o' children. Will was a pictur; -- the farmer, he was afine man too; -- but there was one -- the second boy -- Winthrop, -- he was the flower of the flock, to my thinkin'. I ha'n'tseen him this great while. He's been here since I lost mysight, but I thought I could see him when I heerd him speak. "

There was silence. Elizabeth did not feel inclined to breakit. 

"Do you know him, maybe?" the old woman said presently. Winthrop _had_ made himself pleasant there! --

"Yes. "

"Is he lookin' as well as he used to?"

"Quite as well, I believe. "

"Is he gettin' along well?"

"Yes -- I believe so -- very well. "

"Whatever he does 'll prosper, _I_ believe, " said Mrs. Underhill; "for the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous. Isthat a way you have any knowledge of, young lady?"

"Not much --" said Elizabeth hesitating. 

"'Siah says he 'spects you're rich. "

"What makes him think so?"

"He says that's what he 'spects. Does the hull Shahweetah farmbelong to you?"

"Yes. "

"It's a good farm. Who's goin' to take care of it for you?"

"I don't know, yet. "

"I 'spose you'll be gettin' married, one of these days, andthen there'll be some one to do it for you. Be you handsome, particular, as 'Siah says?"

Elizabeth coloured exceedingly, and a tittering laugh, somewhat boisterous, ran round the group of spectators andlisteners, with a murmured "Oh Grand'ma! --"

"Whisht!" -- said the old woman; -- "I'm not talkin' like you. I'm old and blind. I can't see for myself, and I want to know. She can tell me. "

"Father telled ye already, " said the eldest girl. 

"I can tell better from what _she_ says, " said Mrs. Underhill, turning her face towards her visiter. "What does she say? Beyou uncommon fair and handsome? -- or not more than thecommon?"

The red deepened on Elizabeth's cheek and brow, but sheanswered, not without some hesitation, "I believe -- more than the common. "

A little glimpse of a smile stole over the old woman's face. 

"Handsome, and rich. Well -- Be you happy too, young lady, above the common?"

"I have learned, ma'am, that that depends upon right-doing; --so I am not always happy. "

"Have you learned that lesson?" said the old woman. "It's agood one. Let me see your hand?"

Elizabeth drew near and gave it. 

"It's a pretty hand, " -- said the old woman. "It's soft -- ithain't done much work. It feels rich and handsome. Don't yougive it to no one who will help you to forget that theblessing of God is better than silver and gold. "

"Thank you. I will not. "

"Be you a servant of the Lord, young lady?"

"I hope I am, Mrs. Underhill, " Elizabeth answered with somehesitation. "Not a good one. "

The old woman dropped her hand and fell back in her chair, only saying, for Elizabeth had risen, "Come and see me again -- I'll be pleased to see ye. "

"If I do! --" thought Elizabeth as she ran down to her boat. The free air seemed doubly free. But then came the instantthought, -- "Winthrop Landholm would not have said that. Howfar I am -- how far! -- from where he stands!" --

She walked slowly down to the water's edge. 

"Mr. Underhill, " she said as she prepared to spring into theboat which he held for her, -- "I have forgotten, while I wasat the house, what I partly came for to-night. We are out ofprovisions -- have you any eggs, or anything of any kind, tospare?"

"Eggs?" -- said Mr. Underhill, holding the boat, -- "what elsewould you like along of eggs?"

"Almost anything, that is not salt meat. "

"Chickens? -- we've got some o' them. "

"Very glad of them indeed, -- or fresh meat. "

"Ha'n't got any of that just to-day, " said the old farmershaking his head. "I'll see. The boat won't stir -- tide'smakin' yet. You'll have a pull home, I expect. "

He went back to the house, and Elizabeth stood waiting, alonewith her boat. 

There was refreshment and strength to be had from nature'spure and calm face; so very pure and calm the mountains lookeddown upon her and the river smiled up. The opposite hill-topsshone in the warm clear light of the October setting sun, themore warm and bright for the occasional red and yellow leavesthat chequered their green, and many tawny and half turnedtrees that mellowed the whole mountain side. Such clear lightas shone upon them! such unearthly blue as rose above them!such a soft and fair water face that gave back the blue! Whatcould eyes do but look; what could the mind do but wonder, andbe thankful; and wonder again, at the beauty, and grow brightin the sunlight, and grow pure in that shadowless atmosphere. The sharp cedar tops on Shahweetah were so many illuminatedpoints, and further down the river the sunlight caught justthe deep bend of the water in the bay; the rest was undershadow of the western hills. All was under a still and hush, --nothing sounded or moved but here and there a cricket; thetide was near flood and crept up noiselessly; the wind blewsomewhere else, but not in October. Softly the sun went downand the shadows stole up. 

Elizabeth stood with her hands pressed upon her breast, drinking in all the sights and sounds, and many of their softwhisperings that only the spirit catches; when her ear wascaught by very dissimilar and discordant notes behind her, --the screaming of discomposed chickens and the grating of Mr. Underhill's boots on the gravel. 

"Here's chickens for ye, " said the farmer, who held the legsof two pair in his single hand, the heads of the samedepending and screaming in company, -- "and here's three dozenof fresh eggs -- if you want more you can send for 'em. Willyou take these along in the Merry-go-round?"

"If you please -- there is no other way, " said Elizabeth. "Wait-- let me get in first, Mr. Underhill -- Are they tied so theycan't get loose?"

"La! yes, " said the old man putting them into the bow of theboat, -- "they can't do nothin'! I'll engage they won't hurtye. Do you good, if you eat 'em right. Good bye! -- it's prettynigh slack water, I guess -- you'll go home easy. Come again! --and you shall have some more fowls to take home with ye!" --

Elizabeth bowed her acknowledgments, and pulled away towardshome, over the bright water, wondering again very much atherself and her chickens. The dark barrier of the westernhills rose up now before her, darkening and growing moredistant -- as she went all the way over the river home. Elizabeth admired them and admired at herself by turns. 

Near the landing, however, the boat paused again, and one oarsplashed discontentedly in the water and then lay still, whilethe face of its owner betrayed a struggle of some sort goingon. The displeased brow, and the firm-set lips, saidrespectively, 'I would not, ' and 'I must;' and it was fiveminutes good before the brow cleared up and the lips unbent totheir usual full free outline; and the oars were in play oncemore, and the Merry-go-round brought in and made fast. 

"Well, Miss 'Lizabeth!" said Clam who met her at the door, --"where _have_ you been! Here's Mis' Haye been cryin' and thetea-kettle singing an hour and a half, if it isn't two hours. "

"Has Anderese come home?"

"Yes, and supper's ready, and 'taint bad, for Mis' Landholmlearned me how to do fresh mutton and cream; and it's allready. You look as if you wanted it, Miss 'Lizabeth. My! --"

"There are some eggs and chickens down in the boat, Clam"

"In what boat, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"In mine -- down at the rocks. "

"Who fetched 'em?"

"I did, from Mr. Underhill's. You may bring them up to thehouse. "

Leaving her handmaid in an excess of astonishment unusual withher, Elizabeth walked into her guest's room, where the tablewas laid. Rose sat yet by the window, her head in herhandkerchief on the window-sill. Elizabeth went up to her. 

"Rose --"

"What?" said Rose without moving. 

"Rose -- look up at me --"

The pretty face was lifted at her bidding, but it was sullen, and the response was a sullen "Well --"

"I am very sorry I spoke to you so -- I was very wrong. I amvery sorry. Forgive me and forget it -- will you?"

"It was very unkind!" -- said Rose, her head going down againin fresh tears. 

"It was very unkind and unhandsome. What can I say more, butthat I am sorry? Won't you forget it?"

"Of course, " said Rose wiping her eyes, -- "I don't want toremember it if you want to forget it. I dare say I was foolish--"

"Then come to supper, " said Elizabeth. "Here's the tea -- I'mvery hungry. "

CHAPTER XVI. 

And Phant'sie, I tell you, has dreams that have wings, And dreams that have honey, and dreams that have stings, Dreams of the maker, and dreams of the teller, Dreams of the kitchen, and dreams of the cellar. BEN JONSON. 

A few days more passed; days of sameness in the house, whileAutumn's beautiful work was going on without, and the woodswere changing from day to day with added glories. It seemed asif the sun had broken one or two of his beams across thehills, and left fragments of coloured splendour all over. Theelm trees reared heads of straw-colour among their forestbrethren; the maples shewed yellow and red and flame-colour;the birches were in bright orange. Sad purple ashes stood themoderators of the Assembly; and hickories of gold made sunnyslopes down the mountain sides. All softened together in thedistance to a mellow, ruddy, glowing hue over the whole woodcountry. 

The two cousins sat by the two windows watching the fadinglight, in what used once to be the 'keeping-room' -- Mrs. Haye's now. Elizabeth had been long looking out of the window, with a fixed, thoughtful, sorrowful, gaze. Rose's look wasnever fixed long upon anything and never betrayed her thoughtsto be so. It wavered now uneasily between her cousin and thebroad and bright hills and river -- which probably Mrs. Hayedid not see. 

"How long are you going to stay here, Lizzie?"

"I don't know. "

"How is that old woman?"

"I don't know. There don't seem to be much difference from oneday to another. "

"What ails her?"

"I don't know. I suppose it is as the doctor says, -- thatthere is a general breaking up of nature. "

"Is she going to live long?"

"I don't know. He said probably not. "

"Well, who's going to take care of her?"

"She is taken care of. There is a woman here from MountainSpring, to do all that is necessary. "

"Why must we stay here, Lizzie? -- it's so dismal. "

"_We_ mustn't -- _I_ must. "

"Why?"

"I would rather -- and I think it is right. "

"To take care of that old woman?"

"No -- I can't do much for her -- but I can see that she istaken care of. "

"But how would she have done if you had never come here?"

"I don't know. I don't know what that has to do with it, seeing that I am here. "

"You wouldn't stay for her now, if she wasn't somebody's oldnurse. "

Elizabeth did not answer. 

"But how long _do_ you mean to stay here, Lizzie? -- any how?"

"Till I must go -- till it is less pleasant here than somewhereelse. "

"And when will you think that?"

"Not for a good while. "

"But _when_, Lizzie?"

"I don't know. I suppose when the cold weather comes inearnest. "

"I'm sure it has come now!" said Rose shrugging her shoulders. "I'm shivering every morning after the fire goes out. Whatsort of cold weather do you mean?"

"I mean snow and ice. "

"Snow and ice -- And then you will go -- where will you go?"said Rose discontentedly. 

"I suppose, to Mannahatta. "

"Will you go the first snow?"

"I cannot tell yet, Rose. "

There was a pause. Elizabeth had not stirred from herposition. Her head rested yet on her hand, her eyes lookedsteadily out of the window. 

"It will seem so lonely there!" said Rose whimpering. 

"Yes! -- more lonely than here. "

"I meant in the house. But there one can get out and see someone. "

"There isn't a soul in Mannahatta I care to see. "

"Lizzie! --"

"Not that I know of. "

"Lizzie! -- Mr. Landholm?"

"I mean, not one that I am like to see. "

"What do you go to Mannahatta for, then?" said Roseunbelievingly. 

"One must be somewhere, to do something in the world. "

"To do what?"

"I don't know -- I suppose I shall find my work. "

"Work? -- what work?" -- said Rose wonderingly. 

"I don't know yet, Rose. But everybody has something to do inthe world -- so I have, -- and you have. "

"I haven't anything. What have we to do, except what we liketo do?"

"I hope I shall like my work, " said Elizabeth. "I must likeit, if I am to do it well. "

"What do you mean? -- what are you talking of, Lizzie?"

"Listen to me, Rose. Do you think that you and I have been putin this world with so many means of usefulness, of one sortand another, and that it was never meant we should do anythingbut trifle away them and life till the end of it came? Do youthink God has given us nothing to do for him?"

"_I_ haven't much means of doing anything, " said Rose, halfpouting, half sobbing. "Have you taken up your friend WinthropLandholm's notions?"

There was a rush to Elizabeth's heart, that his name and hers, in such a connection, should be named in the same day; but thecolour started and the eyes flushed with tears, and she saidnothing. 

"What sort of 'work' do you suppose you are going to do?"

"I don't know. I shall find out, Rose, I hope, in time. "

"I guess he can tell you, -- if you were to ask him, " said Rosemeaningly. 

Elizabeth sat a minute silent, with quickened breath. 

"Rose, " she said, leaning back into the room that she mightsee and be seen, -- "look at me and listen to me. "

Rose obeyed. 

"Don't say that kind of thing to me again. "

"One may say what one has a mind to, in a free land, " saidRose pouting, -- "and one needn't be commanded like a child ora servant. Don't I know you would never plague yourself withthat old woman if she wasn't Winthrop's old nurse?"

Elizabeth rose and came near to her. 

"I will not have this thing said to me!" she repeated. "Mymotives, in any deed of charity, are no man's or woman's tomeddle with. Mr. Landholm is most absolutely nothing to me, nor I to him; except in the respect and regard he has from me, which he has more or less, I presume, from everybody that hasthe happiness of knowing him. Do you understand me, Rose?clearly?"

Another answer was upon Rose's tongue, but she was cowed, andonly responded a meek 'yes. ' Elizabeth turned and walked offin stately fashion to the door of the kitchen. The latch wasraised, and then she let it fall again, came back, and stoodagain with a very different face and voice before her guest. 

"Rose, " she said gravely, "I didn't speak just in the best wayto you; but I do not always recollect myself quickly enough. You mustn't say that sort of thing to me -- I can't bear it. Iam sorry for anything in my manner that was disagreeable toyou just now. "

And before Rose had in the least made up her mind how toanswer her, Elizabeth had quitted the room. 

"She ain't goin' never!" said Clam, meeting and passing hermistress as she entered the kitchen. "_I_ don't believe! She's agoin' to stay. "

Karen sat in her wonted rocking-chair before the fire, rockinga very little jog on her rockers. Elizabeth came up to theside of the fireplace and stood there, silent and probablymeditative. She had at any rate forgotten Karen, when the oldwoman spoke, in a feebler voice than usual. 

"Is the Governor comin'?"

"What, Karen?" said Elizabeth, knowing very well what she hadasked, but not knowing so well the drift and intent of it. 

"Is the Governor comin'? will he be along directly?"

"No -- I suppose not. Do you want to see him, Karen?"

"I'd like to see him, " said the old woman covering her eyeswith her withered hand. "I thought he was comin'. "

"Perhaps something may bring him, some day. I dare say youwill see him by and by -- I don't know how soon. "

"I'll see him _there_, " said the old woman. "I can't stay herelong. "

"Why, you don't seem any worse, Karen, do you? Aren't yougoing to be well again?"

"Not here, " said the old woman. "I'm all goin' to pieces. I'llgo to bed to-night, and I won't get up again. "

"Don't say that, Karen; because I think you will. "

"I'll go to bed, " she repeated in a rather plaintive manner. "I thought he'd be here. "

It touched Elizabeth acutely; perhaps because she had so neara fellow feeling that answered Karen's, and allowed her tocomprehend how exceedingly the desire for his presence mightgrow strong in one who had a right to wish for it. And sheknew that he would reckon old Karen his friend, whatever otherpeople would do. 

"What can I do for you, Karen?" she said gently. "Let me bethe best substitute I can. What can I do for you, that hecould do better?"

"There can't nobody do just the Governor's work, " said his oldnurse. "I thought he'd ha' been here. This'll be my lastnight, and I'd like to spend it hearin' good things. "

"Would you like me to send for anybody, " said Elizabeth. 

"Could ye send for _him?_" said Karen earnestly. 

"Not in time. No, Karen, -- there'd be no time to send amessage from here to Mannahatta and get him here to-night. "

She jogged herself back and forward a little while on herrocking-chair; and then said she would go to bed. Elizabethhelped her into the little room, formerly Asahel's, openingout of the kitchen, which she had insisted Karen should takeduring her illness; and after she was put to bed, came againand asked her what she should do for her. Karen requested tohave the Bible read. 

Elizabeth set open the kitchen door, took a low seat byKaren's bedside, and established herself with her book. It wasstrange work to her, to read the Bible to a person who thoughtherself dying. She, who so lately had to do with everythingelse but the Bible, now seated by the bedside of an old blackwoman, and the Bible the only matter in hand between the two. Karen's manner made it more strange. She was every now andthen breaking in upon the reading, or accompanying it, withremarks and interjections. Sometimes it was "Hallelujah!" --sometimes, "That's true, that's true!" -- sometimes, and veryoften, "Praise the Lord!" Not loud, nor boisterous; they weremost of the time little underbreath words said to herself, words seemingly that she could not help, the good of which shetook and meant for nobody else's edification. They werehowever very disagreeable and troublesome to Elizabeth's earsand thoughts; she had half a mind to ask Karen to stop them;but the next sighing "That's true!" -- checked her; if it wassuch a comfort to the old woman to hold counsel with herself, and Elizabeth could offer nothing better, the least she coulddo was to let her alone. And then Elizabeth grew accustomed toit; and at last thoughts wandered a little by turns to take uptheir new trade of wondering at herself and at the new, unwonted life she seemed beginning to lead. There was asingular pleasantness in what she was doing; she found a gravesweet consciousness of being about the right work; butpresently to her roving spirit the question arose whether_this_, -- this new and certainly very substantial pleasure, --were perhaps the chief kind she was hereafter to look forwardto, or find in this life; -- and Elizabeth's heart confessed toa longing desire for something else. And then her attentionsuddenly came back to poor Karen at her side saying, softly, "Bless the Lord, O my soul!" -- Elizabeth stopped short; shewas choked. 

At this juncture Clam noiselessly presented herself. 

"He's come, Miss 'Lizabeth. "

The start that Miss Haye's inward spirits gave at this, wasnot to be seen at all on the outside. She looked at Clam, butshe gave no sign that her words had been understood. YetElizabeth had understood them so well, that she did not eventhink at first to ask the question, and when she did, it wasfor form's sake, _who_ had come? Probably Clam knew as much, forshe only repeated her words. 

"He's come. What'll I do with him, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"Where is he?"

"He ain't come yet -- he's comin'. "

"Coming when? And what do you mean by saying he is come?"

"I don't mean nothin' bad, " said Clam. "He's just a comin' upthe walk from the boat -- I see him by the moon. "

"See who it is, first, before you do anything with him; andthen you can bring me word. "

Elizabeth closed her book however, in some little doubt whatshe should do with herself. She knew, -- it darted into hermind, -- that it would please Winthrop to find her there; thatit would meet his approbation; and then with the sterndetermination that motives of self-praise, if they came intoher head should not come into her life, she hurried out andacross the kitchen and hid her book in her own room. Then cameout into the kitchen and stood waiting for the steps outsideand for the opening of the door. 

"You are come in good time, " she said, as she met and answeredWinthrop's offered hand. 

"I am glad I am in time, " he said. 

"Karen has been wishing for you particularly to-night -- but Idon't know that that is any sign, except to the superstitious, that she is in particular danger. "

"I shall be all the more welcome, at any rate. "

"I don't know whether that is possible, in Karen's case. Butdid you know she wanted you? -- did you know she was ill?"

"Do you suppose nothing but an errand of mercy could bringme?" he answered slightly, though with a little opening of theeyes which Elizabeth afterwards remembered and speculatedupon. But for the present she was content with the pleasantimplication of his words. Clam was ordered to bringrefreshments. These Winthrop declined; he had had all hewanted. Then Elizabeth asked if he would like to see Karen. 

She opened the door, which she had taken care to shut, andwent in with him. 

"Karen -- here is the Governor, that you were wishing for. "

The old woman turned her face towards them; then stretched outher hand, and spoke with an accent of satisfied longing thatwent at least to one heart. 

"I thought he'd come, " she said. "Governor! --"

Winthrop leaned over to speak to her and take her hand. Elizabeth longed to hear what he would say, but she had nobusiness there; she went out, softly closing the door. 

She was alone then; and she stood on the hearth before thefire in a little tumult of pleasure, thinking how she shoulddispose of her guest and what she might do for him. 

"Once more I have a chance, " she thought; "and I may never inthe world have another -- He will not come here again before Igo back to Mannahatta, he cannot stay in my house there, -- andanother summer is very far off, and very uncertain. He'll notbe very likely to come here -- he may be married -- and I amvery sure I shall not want to see his wife here -- I shall notdo it. -- Though I might ask her for his sake -- No! I shouldbetter break with him at once and have no more to do with him;it would be only misery. " "And what is it now?" said somethingelse. And "Not misery" -- was the answer. 

"Where will I put him, Miss 'Lizabeth?" said the voice of Clamsoftly at her elbow. Elizabeth started. 

"You must take my room. I will sleep with Mrs. Haye. Clam --what have we got in the house? and what can you do in the wayof cooking?"

"I can do some things -- for some folks, " said Clam. "Wa'n't mycream gravy good the other day?"

"Cream gravy! -- with what?"

"Fresh lamb, -- mutton, I would say. "

"But you have got no fresh mutton now, have you?"

"Maybe Mr. Underhill has, " said Clam with a twinkle of herbright eye. 

"Mr. Underhill's fresh mutton is on the other side of theriver. What have we got on this side?"

"Pretty much of nothing, " said Clam, "this side o' MountainSpring. Anderese ain't no good but to make the fire -- it takesmor'n him to find somethin' to put over it. "

"Then you'll have to go to Mountain Spring before breakfast, Clam. "

"Well, m'm. Who'll take care of the house while I'm gone, Miss'Lizabeth?"

"Mrs. Cives -- can't she?"

"Mis' Cives is gone off home. "

"Gone home! -- what, to Mountain Spring?"

"That's where her home is, she says. "

"What for? and without asking?"

"She wanted to spend to-night at home, she said; and she askedno questions and went. "

"To night of all nights! when Karen seems so much worse!"

"It's good we've got the Governor, " said Clam. 

"But he can't sit up all night with her. "

"Guess he will, " said Clam. "Pretty much like him. You cansleep in your bed, Miss 'Lizabeth. "

"You go and get the room ready -- he must not sit up all night-- and we'll see in the morning about Mountain Spring. Somebodymust go. "

"He'll go if you ask him, " said Clam. "He'd do the marketingbest, now, of all of us. He knows just where everything is. 'Fact is, we want him in the family pretty much all the time. "

"Let him know when his room is ready, and offer himrefreshments, -- and call me if I am wanted. "

Clam departed; but Elizabeth, instead of doing the same, tooka chair on the kitchen hearth and sat down to await anypossible demands upon her. She could hear a quiet sound oftalking in Karen's room; now and then the old woman's lessregulated voice, more low or more shrill, broke in upon thesubdued tones of the other. Elizabeth thought she would havegiven _anything_ to be a hearer of what was said and listened tothere; but the door was shut; it was all for Karen and not forher; and she gave up at last in despair and retreated to hercousin's room. 

"So he's come?" said Rose. 

"Yes! -- he's come. Did you know he was coming?"

"I! -- No, -- I didn't know he was coming. How should I?"

"Did you _think_ he was coming, Rose?"

"I didn't know but he'd come, " said Rose a little awkwardly, "I didn't know anything about it. "

Elizabeth chose to ask no further question. Somewhat mortifiedalready, she would not give herself any more certain ground ofmortification, not at that time. She would talk no more withRose. She went to bed; and long after her companion wasasleep, she listened for Winthrop's coming out or Clam'scolloquy with him, and for any possible enquiry after herself. She heard Clam tap at the door -- she heard the undistinguishedsound of words, and only gathered that Winthrop probably wasdeclining all proffered comforts and luxuries and choosing tospend the night by Karen's pillow. And weary and sorry andsick of everything in the world, Elizabeth went to sleep. 

She waked up in the morning to hear the twittering of thebirds around the house. They were singing busily of the comingday, but the day had not come yet; at least it was some timebefore sunrise. Elizabeth softly got up, softly dressedherself, and went out into the kitchen. That messenger must bedespatched for something for breakfast. 

She was met by Clam coming in from another door. 

"Well, Clam, " said her mistress, "where is everybody thismorning?"

"I don't know where I am yet, " said Clam. "Everybody's abedand asleep, I 'spose. Where be you, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"Did Mr. Landholm sit up all night?"

"'Most. He said 'twas near upon two o'clock. "

"When?"

"When he had done sittin' up, and went to bed. "

"How was Karen?"

"I 'spose she was _goin'_, but she ain't in no hurry -- she ain'tgone yet. "

"Then she was no worse?"

"She was better. She was slicked up wonderful after seein' theGovernor, she telled me. I wonder who ain't. "

"He has not come out of his room yet, I suppose?"

"I hope he haint, " said Clam, "or I don' know when we'll getbreakfast -- 'less he turns to and helps us. "

"He will want a good one, after last night, and yesterday'sjourney. Where's Anderese?"

"He took some bread and milk, " said Clam. 

"Well -- where's Anderese? we must send him to MountainSpring. "

"He's got to go after wood, Miss 'Lizabeth -- there ain't threesticks more 'n 'll set the fire agoing. "

"Must he! Then you must go, Clam. "

"Very good. Who'll set the table, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"Emma can. Or you can, after you get back. "

"And there's the fire to make, and the floor to sweep, and theknives to clean, and the bread to make --"

"Bread! --" said Miss Haye. 

"Or cakes, " said Clam. "One or t'other 'll be wanted. I don'tcare which. "

"Don't Emma know how?"

"She don't know a thing, but how to put Mrs. Haye's curls overa stick -- when she ain't doin' her own. "

"Then give me a basket -- I'll go to Mountain Spring myself. "

"Who'll bring the meat and things home?"

"I will; -- or fish, or eggs, -- something, whatever I can get. "

"It 'll tire you, Miss 'Lizabeth -- I guess, before you getback. "

"You find me a basket -- while I put on my bonnet, " said Clam'smistress. And the one thing was done as soon as the other. 

"I 'spect I'll wake up some morning and find myself playing onthe pianny-forty, " said Clam, as she watched her youngmistress walking off with the basket. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

When was old Sherwood's head more quaintly curled?Or looked the earth more green upon the world?Or nature's cradle more enchased and purled?When did the air so smile, the wind so chime, As quiristers of season, and the prime?BEN JONSON. 

Miss Haye, however, had never sent her fingers over the keyswith more energy, than now her feet tripped over the dryleaves and stones in the path to Mountain Spring. She took avery rough way, through the woods. There was another, muchplainer, round by the wagon road; but Elizabeth chose the moresolitary and prettier way, roundabout and hard to the footthough it was. 

For some little distance there was a rude wagon-track, veryrough, probably made for the convenience of getting wood. Itstood thick with pretty large stones or heads of rock; but itwas softly grass-grown between the stones and gave at least aclear way through the woods, upon which the morning light ifnot the morning sun beamed fairly. A light touch of whitefrost lay upon the grass and covered the rocks with bloom, thepromise of a mild day. After a little, the roadway descendedinto a bit of smooth meadow, well walled in with trees, andlost itself there. In the tree-tops the morning sun wasglittering; it could not get to the bottom yet; but up thereamong the leaves it gave a bright shimmering prophecy of whatit would do; it was a sparkle of heavenly light touching theearth. Elizabeth had never seen it before; she had never inher life been in the woods at so early an hour. She stoodstill to look. It was impossible to help feeling the light ofthat glittering promise; its play upon the leaves was toojoyous, too pure, too fresh. She felt her heart grow strongerand her breath come freer. What was the speech of those light-touched leaves, she might not have told; something her spirittook knowledge of while her reason did not. Or had not leisureto do; for if she did not get to Mountain Spring in goodseason she would not be home for breakfast. Yet she had plentyof time, but she did not wish to run short. So she went on herway. 

From the valley meadow for half a mile, it was not much moreor much better than a cow-path, beaten a little by the feet ofthe herdsman seeking his cattle or of an occasional foot-traveller to Mountain Spring. It was very rough indeed. OftenElizabeth must make quite a circuit among cat-briars andhuckleberry bushes and young underwood, or keep the path atthe expense of stepping up and stepping down again over agreat stone or rock blocking up the whole way. Sometimes thetrack was only marked over the grey lichens of an immense headof granite that refused moss and vegetation of every otherkind; sometimes it wound among thick alder bushes by the edgeof wet ground; and at all times its course was among awilderness of uncared-for woodland, overgrown with creepersand vines tangled with underbrush, and thickly strewn withlarger and smaller fragments and boulders of granite rock. Buthow beautiful it was! The alders, reddish and soft-tinted, looked when the sun struck through them as if they wereexotics out of witch-land; the Cornus family, from beautifuldogwood a dozen feet high stretching over Elizabeth's head, tolittle humble nameless plants at her feet, had edged andparted their green leaves with most dainty clear hues ofmadder lake; white birches and hickories glimmered in thesunlight like trees of gold, the first with stems of silver;sear leaves strewed the way; and fresh pines and hemlocksstretched out their arms amidst the changing foliage, withtheir evergreen promise and performance. The morning air andthe morning walk no doubt had something to do with the effectof the whole; but Elizabeth thought, with all the beauty hereyes had ever seen they had never been more bewitched thanthey were that day. 

With such a mood upon her, it was no wonder that on arrivingat Mountain Spring she speedily made out her errand. She foundwhom and what she had come for; she filled her basket with noloss of time or pleasure; and very proud of her success setout again through the wood-path homeward. 

Half way back to the bit of tree-enclosed meadow-ground, thepath and the north shore of Shahweetah approached each other, where a little bay curve, no other than the _AEgean Sea_, sweptin among the rocks. Through the stems of the trees Elizabethcould see the blue water with the brightness of the hour uponit. Its sparkle tempted her. She had plenty of time, or sheresolved that she had, and she wanted to look at the fairbroad view she knew the shore edge would give her. Shehesitated, and turned, A few bounding and plunging steps amidrocks and huckleberry bushes brought her where she wished tobe. She stood on the border, where no trees came in the way ofthe northern view. The mountains were full before her, and thewide Shatemuc rolled down between them, ruffled with littlewaves, every one sparkling cool in the sunlight. Elizabethlooked at the water a minute, and turned to the west. Wut-a-qut-o's head had caught more of the frosts than Shahweetah hadfelt yet; there were broad belts of buff and yellow along themountain, even changing into sear where its sides felt thenorth wind. On all that shore the full sunlight lay. Theopposite hills, on the east, were in dainty sunshine andshadow, every undulation, every ridge and hollow, softlymarked out. With what wonderful sharp outline the mountainedges rose against the bright sky; how wonderful soft thechanges of shade and colour adown their sloping sides; whatbrilliant little ripples of water rolled up to the pebbles atElizabeth's feet. She stood and looked at it all, at one thingand the other, half dazzled with the beauty; until sherecollected herself, and with a deep sighful expression ofthoughts and wishes unknown, turned away to find her pathagain. 

But she could not find it. Whereabouts it was, she was sure;but the _where_ was an unfindable thing. And she dared notstrike forward without the track; she might get further andfurther from it, and never get home to breakfast at all! --There was nothing for it but to grope about seeking forindications; and Miss Haye's eyes were untrained to wood-work. The woodland was a mazy wilderness now indeed. Points ofstone, beds of moss, cat-briar vines and huckleberry bushes, in every direction; and between which of them lay that littleinvisible track of a footpath? The more she looked the moreshe got perplexed. She could remember no waymarks. The way wasall cat-briars, moss, bushes, and rocks; and rocks, bushes, moss and cat-briars were in every variety all around her. Sheturned her face towards the quarter from which she had comeand tried to recognize some tree or waymark she could rememberhaving passed. One part of the wood looked just like another;but for the mountains and the river she could not have toldwhere lay Mountain Spring. 

Then a little sound of rustling leaves and crackling twigsreached her ear from behind her. 

"There is a cow!" thought Elizabeth; -- "now I can find thepath by her. But then! -- cows don't always --"

Her eye had been sweeping round the woody skirts of herposition, in search of her expected four-footed guide, whenher thoughts were suddenly brought to a point by seeing a two-footed creature approaching, and one whom she instantly knew. 

"It is Winthrop Landholm! -- he is going to Mountain Spring totake an early coach, without his breakfast! -- Well, you fool, what is it to you?" was the next thought. "What does itsignify whether he goes sooner or later, when it would bebetter for you not to see him at all, if your heart is goingto start in that fashion at every time. --"

Meanwhile she was making her way as well as she could, overrocks and briars, towards the new-comer; and did not look uptill she answered his greeting --

"Good morning! --"

It was very cheerfully spoken. 

"Good morning, " said Elizabeth, entangled in a cat-briar, fromwhich with a desperate effort she broke free before any helpcould be given her. 

"Those are naughty things. "

"No, " said Elizabeth, "they look beautiful now when they aregrowing tawny, as a contrast with the other creepers and thedeep green cedars. And they are a beautiful green at othertimes. "

"Make the best of them. What were you looking at, a minuteago?"

"Looking for my way. I had lost it. "

"You don't know it very well, I guess. "

"Yes. -- No, not very well, but I could follow it, and did, till coming home I thought I had time to look at the view; andthen I couldn't find it again. I got turned about. "

"You were completely turned about when I saw you. "

"O I was not going that way -- I knew better than that. I wastrying to discover some waymark. "

"How did you get out of the way?"

"I went to look at the view -- from the water's edge there. "

"Have you a mind to go back to the river edge again? I havenot seen that view in a long while. _I_ shall not lose thepath. "

"Then you cannot be intending to go by an early coach, "thought Elizabeth, as she picked her way back over rocks andmoss to the water's edge. But Winthrop knew the ground, andbrought her a few steps further to a broad standing-place ofrock where the look-out was freer. There was again before herthe sparkling river, the frost-touched mountain, the sharpoutlines, the varying shadows, that she had looked at a fewminutes back. Elizabeth looked at them again, thinking now notof them but of something different at every turn. 

"The rock is too wet, " said Winthrop, "or I should proposeyour sitting down. "

"You certainly must have had your breakfast, " thoughtElizabeth, "and not know that I haven't had mine. "

"I don't want to sit down, " she said quietly. A pang of fearagain came to her heart, that in another minute or two hewould be off to Mountain Spring. But his next movementnegatived that. It was to take her basket, which she had tillthen tried to carry so that it would not be noticed. She wasthankful he did not know what was in it. 

"Do you often take such early walks as this?"

"No, not often, " said Elizabeth guiltily. "I row more. "

"So early?"

"No, not generally. Though there is no time more pleasant. "

"You are looking well, " he said gravely. "Better than I eversaw you look. "

"It's very odd, " thought Elizabeth, -- "it must be the flush ofmy walk -- I didn't look so this morning in the glass -- norlast night. --" But she looked up and said boldly, laughing, "I thought you came here to see the prospect, Mr. Landholm. "

"I have been looking at it, " he said quietly. "I need not sayanything about that -- it never changes. "

"Do you mean that I do?" said Elizabeth. 

"Everybody ought to change for the better, always, " he saidwith a little smile, -- "so I hope you are capable of that. "

Elizabeth thought in her heart, though she was no better, yetthat she had truly changed for the better, since former times;she half wanted to tell him so, the friend who had had most todo with changing her. But a consciousness of many things andan honest fear of speaking good of herself, kept her lipsshut; though her heart beat with the wish and the doubt. Winthrop's next words in a few minutes decided it. 

"What is the fact, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth hesitated, -- and hesitated. He looked at her. 

"I hope I am changed, a little, Mr. Landholm; but there is agreat deal more to change!"

Her face was very ingenuous and somewhat sorrowful, as sheturned it towards him; but his looked so much brighter thanshe had ever seen it, that the meeting of the two tides wasjust more than her spirits could bear. The power of commandingherself, which for the last few minutes had been growing lessand less, gave way. Her look shrank from his. Winthrop hadcome nearer to her, and had clasped the hand that was nearesthim and held it in his own. It was a further expression of thepleasure she had seen in his smile. Elizabeth was glad thather own face was hidden by her sunbonnet. She would not haveeither its pain or its pleasure to be seen. Both were sharpenough just then. But strong necessity made her keep outwardlyquiet. 

"What does the change date from?"

"As to time, do you mean?" said Elizabeth struggling. 

"As to time, and motive. "

"The time is but lately, " she said with a tremulous voice, --"though I have thought about it, more or less, for a goodwhile. "

"Thought what?"

"Felt that you were right and I was wrong, Mr. Landholm. "

"What made you think you were wrong?"

"I felt that I was -- I knew it. "

"What makes you think you are changed now?"

"I hardly dare speak of it -- it is so little. "

"You may, I hope, -- to me. "

"It is hardly _I_ that am changed, so much as my motives andviews. "

"And they -- how?" he said after waiting a moment. 

"It seems to me, " she said slowly, "lately, that I am willingto go by a new rule of life from that I used to follow. "

"What is the new rule?"

"Well -- Not my own will, Mr. Landholm. "

He stood silent a little while. Her hand was still held inhis. Elizabeth would have thought he had forgotten it, butthat it was held in a free clasp which did not seem to implyforgetfulness. It was enough to forbid it on her part. 

"How does the new rule work?" was his next question. 

"It works hard, Mr. Landholm!" said Elizabeth, turning herface suddenly upon him for an instant. His look was bright, but she felt that her own eyes were swimming. 

"Do you know that I am very glad to hear all this?" he saidafter another little pause. 

"Yes, " said Elizabeth under breath, -- "I supposed you wouldbe. -- I knew you would. "

"I hope you like being catechized, " he said in a lighter tone. 

"Yes -- I do -- by anybody that has a right to do it. "

"I have taken the right. "

"Certainly! -- You have the best in the world. "

"I am glad you think so, though I don't exactly see how youmake it out. "

"Why! -- it's not necessary to explain how I make it out, " saidElizabeth. 

"No, -- especially as I am going to ask you to give it to mefor the future. "

"What?" -- said she looking at him. 

He became grave. 

"Miss Haye, I have a great boon to ask of you. "

"Well?" -- said Elizabeth eagerly. "I am very glad you have!"

"Why?"

"Why? -- why, because it's pleasant. "

"You don't know what it is, yet. "

"No, " said Elizabeth, -- "but my words are safe. "

"I want you to give me something. "

"You preface it as if it were some great thing, and you lookas if it was nothing, " thought Elizabeth a little inwonderment. But she said only, "You may have it. What is it?"

"Guess. "

"I can't possibly. "

"You are incautious. You don't know what you are giving away. "

"What is it?" said Elizabeth a little impatiently. 

"Yourself. "

Elizabeth looked quick away, not to see anything, with themind's eye or any other, for a blur came over both. She was nofainter; she was strong of mind and body; but the one and theother were shaken; and for that bit of time, and it wasseveral minutes, her senses performed no office at all. Andwhen consciousness of distinct things began to come back, there came among all her other feelings an odd perverse fearof shewing the uppermost one or two, and a sort of mortifiedunreadiness to strike her colours and yield at once withouthaving made a bit of fight for it. Yet these were not theuppermost feelings, but they were there, among them andstruggling with them. She stood quite still, her face hiddenby her sunbonnet, and her companion was quite still too, withher hand still in his, held in the same free light clasp; andshe had a vexed consciousness of his being far the cooler ofthe two. While she was thus silent, however, Elizabeth's head, and her very figure, was bowed lower and lower with intensityof feeling. 

"What is the matter?" Winthrop said; and the tone of thosewords conquered her. The proud Miss Haye made a very humbleanswer. 

"I am very glad, Mr. Landholm -- but I am not good enough. "

"For what?"

But Elizabeth did not answer. 

"I will take my risk of that, " said he kindly. "Besides, youhave confessed the power of changing. "

The risk, or something else, seemed to lie upon Elizabeth'smind, from the efforts she was making to overcome emotion. Winthrop observed her for a moment. 

"But you have not spoken, yet, " said he. "I want aconfirmation of my grant. "

She knew from his tone that his mood was the very reverse ofhers; and it roused the struggle again. "Provoking man!" shethought, "why couldn't he ask me in any other way! -- And whyneed he smile when I am crying! --" She commanded herself toraise her head, however, though she did not dare look. 

"Am I to have it?"

"To have what?"

"An answer. "

"I don't know what it's to be, Mr. Landholm, " Elizabethstammered. "What do you want?"

"Will you give me what I asked you for?"

"I thought you knew you had it already, " she said, not alittle vexed to have the words drawn from her. 

"It is mine, then?"

"Yes --"

"Then, " said he, coming in full view of her blushing face andtaking the other hand, -- "what are you troubled for?"

Elizabeth could not have borne it one instant, to meet hiseye, without breaking into a flood of tears she had no handsto cover. As her only way of escape, she sprang to one sidefreeing one of her hands on the sudden, and jumped down therock, muttering something very unintelligibly about'breakfast. ' But her other hand was fast still, and so was sheat the foot of the rock. 

"Stop, " said Winthrop, -- "we must take this basket along. -- Idon't know if there is anything very precious in it. " --

He reached after it as he spoke, and then they went on; and bythe help of his hand her backward journey over rocks, stones, and trunks of trees in the path, was easily and lightly made;till they reached the little bit of meadow. Which backwardjourney Elizabeth accomplished in about two minutes and aquarter. There Winthrop transferred to his arm the hand thathad rested in his, and walked more leisurely. 

"Are you in such a hurry for your breakfast?" said he. "I havehad mine. "

"Had it! -- before you came out?"

"No, " -- said he smiling, -- "since. "

"Are you laughing at me? -- or have you had it?" said Elizabethlooking puzzled. 

"Both, " said Winthrop. "What are you trembling so for?"

It hushed Elizabeth again, till they got quit of the meadow, and began more slowly still, the ascent of the rough half-madewheel-road. 

"Miss Haye --" said Winthrop gently. 

She paused in her walk, looking at him. 

"What are you thinking of?"

"Thinking of! --"

"Yes. You don't look as happy as I feel. "

"I am, " -- she said. 

"How do you know?"

What a colour spread over Elizabeth's face! But she laughedtoo, so perhaps his end was gained. 

"I was thinking, " she said, with the desperate need of sayingsomething, -- "a little while ago, when you were helping methrough the woods, -- how a very few minutes before, I had beenso quite alone in the world. "

"Don't forget there is one arm that never can fail you, " hereplied gravely. "Mine may. "

Elizabeth looked at him rather timidly, and his face changed. 

"There was no harm in that, " he said, with so bright anexpression as she had never before seen given to her. "Whatwill you say, if I tell you that I myself at that same timewas thinking over in my mind very much the same thing -- withrelation to myself, I mean. "

Elizabeth's heart beat and her breath came short. That waswhat she had never thought of. Like many another woman, what_he_ was to her, she knew well; what _she_ might be to him, it hadnever entered her head to think. It seemed almost a new andsuperfluous addition to her joy, yet not superfluous from thattime forth for ever. Once known, it was too precious a thoughtto be again untasted. She hung her head over it; she steppedall unwittingly on rocks and short grass and wet places anddry, wherever she was led. It made her heart beat thick tothink she could be so valued. How was it possible! How shewished -- how keenly -- that she could have been of the solidpurity of silver or gold, to answer the value put upon her. But instead of that -- what a far-off difference! Winthropcould not know how great, or he would never have said that, orfelt it; nor could he. What about her could possibly haveattracted it?

She had not much leisure to ponder the question, for herattention was called off to answer present demands. And therewas another subject for pondering -- Winthrop did not seem likethe same person she had known under the same name, he was somuch more free and pleasant and bright to talk than he hadever been to her before, or in her observation, to anybody. Hetalked to a very silent listener, albeit she lost never a wordnor a tone. She wondered at him and at everything, and steppedalong wondering, with a heart too full to speak, almost toofull to hide its agitation. 

They were nearing home, they had got quit of the woodway road, and were in a cleared field, grown with tall cedars, whichskirted the river. Half way across it, Elizabeth's footpaused, and came to a full stop. What was the matter?

Elizabeth faced round a little, as if addressing her judge, though she spoke without lifting her eyes. 

"Mr. Landholm -- do you know that I am _full_ of faults?"

"Yes. "

"And aren't you afraid of them?"

"No, -- not at all, " he said, smiling, Elizabeth knew. But sheanswered very gravely, "I am. "

"Which is the best reason in the world why I should not be. Itis written 'Blessed is the man that feareth always. '"

"I am afraid -- you don't know me. "

"I don't know, " said he smiling. "You haven't told me anythingnew yet. "

"I am afraid you think of me, somehow, better than I deserve. "

"What is the remedy for that?"

Elizabeth hesitated, with an instant's vexed consciousness ofhis provoking coolness; then looking up met his eye for asecond, laughed, and went on perfectly contented. But shewondered with a little secret mortification, that Winthrop wasas perfectly at home and at his ease in the newly establishedrelations between them as if they had subsisted for sixmonths. "Is it nothing new to him?" she said to herself. "Didhe know that it only depended on him to speak? -- or is it hisway with all the world?" It was not that she was undervalued, or slightly regarded, but valued and regarded with suchunchanged self-possession. Meanwhile they reached the edge ofthe woodland, from which the house and garden were to be seenclose at hand. 

"Stay here, " said Winthrop; -- "I will carry this basket in andlet them know you may be expected to breakfast. "

"But if you do that, --" said Elizabeth colouring --

"What then?"

"I don't know what they will think. "

"They may think what they have a mind, " said he with a littlebit of a smile again. "I want to speak to you. "

Elizabeth winced a bit. He was gone, and she stood thinking, among other things, that he might have asked what _she_ wouldlike. And how did he know but breakfast was ready then? Or didhe know everything? And how quietly and unqualifiedly, to besure, he had taken her consignment that morning. She did notknow whether to like it or not like it, -- till she saw himcoming again from the house. 

"After all, " said he, "I think we had better go in and takebreakfast, and talk afterwards. It seems to be in a good stateof forwardness. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

From eastern quarters nowThe sun's up-wandering, His rays on the rock's browAnd hill-side squandering;Be glad my soul! and sing amidst thy pleasure, Fly from the house of dust, Up with thy thanks and trustTo heaven's azure!THOMAS KINGO. 

It was sufficiently proven at that breakfast, to Elizabeth'ssatisfaction, that it is possible for one to be at the sametime both very happy and a little uncomfortable. She had adegree of consciousness upon her that amounted to that, moreespecially as she had a vexed knowledge that it was shared byat least one person in the room. The line of Clam's whiteteeth had never glimmered more mischievously. Elizabeth darednot look at her. And she dared not look at Winthrop, and shedared not look at Rose. But Rose, to do her justice, seemed tobe troubled with no consciousness beyond what was usual withher, and which generally concerned only herself; and she andWinthrop kept up the spirit of talk with great ease allbreakfast time. 

"Now how in the world are we going to get away?" thoughtElizabeth when breakfast was finishing; -- "without saying flatand bald why we do it. Rose will want to go too, for she likesWinthrop quite well enough for that. " --

And with the consciousness that she could not make theslightest manoeuvre, Elizabeth rose from table. 

"How soon must you go, Mr. Landholm?" said Rose winningly. 

"Presently, ma'am. "

"I am sorry you must go so soon! But we haven't a room to askyou to sit down in, if you were to stay. "

"I am afraid I shouldn't wait to be asked, if I stayed, " saidWinthrop. "But as I am not to sit down again -- Miss Haye -- ifyou will put on your bonnet and give me your company a littlepart of my way, I will keep my promise. "

"What promise?" said Rose. 

"I will do better than my promise, for I mean to shew MissHaye a point of her property which perhaps she has not lookedat lately. "

"Oh will you shew it to me too?" said Rose. 

"I will if there is time enough after I have brought Miss Hayeback -- I can't take both at once. "

Rose looked mystified, and Elizabeth very glad to put on herbonnet, was the first out of the house; half laughing, andhalf trembling with the excitement of getting off. 

"There is no need to be in such a hurry, " said Winthrop as hecame up, -- "now that breakfast is over. "

Elizabeth was silent, troubled with that consciousness still, though now alone with the subject of it. He turned off fromthe road, and led her back into the woods a little way, in thesame path by which she had once gone hunting for a tree to cutdown. 

"It isn't as pretty a time of day as when I went out thismorning, " she said, forcing herself to say something. 

But Winthrop seemed in a state of pre-occupation too; tillthey reached a boulder capped with green ferns. 

"Now give me your hand, " said he. "Can you climb?"

They turned short by the boulder and began to mount the steeprugged hill-path, down which he had once carried his littlesister. Elizabeth could make better footing than poorWinifred; and very soon they stood on the old height fromwhich they could see the fair Shatemuc coming down between thehills and sweeping round their own little woody Shahweetah andoff to the South Bend. The sun was bright on all the land now, though the cedars shielded the bit of hill-top well; and Wut-a-qut-o looked down upon them in all his gay Autumn attire. The sun was bright, but the air was clear and soft and freefrom mist and cloud and obscurity, as no sky is but October's. 

"Sit down, " said Winthrop, throwing himself on the bank whichwas carpeted with very short green grass. 

"I would just as lieve stand, " said Elizabeth. 

"I wouldn't as lieve have you. You've been on your feet longenough to-day. Come! --"

She yielded to the gentle pulling of her hand, and sat down onthe grass; half amused and half fretted; wondering what he wasgoing to say next. Winthrop was silent for a little space; andElizabeth sat looking straight before her, or rather with herhead a little turned to the right, from her companion, towardsWut-a-qut-o; the deep sides of her sun-bonnet shutting out allbut a little framed picture of the gay woody foreground, a bitof the blue river, and the mountain's yellow side. 

"How beautiful it was all down there, three or four hoursago, " said Elizabeth. 

"I didn't know you had so much romance in your disposition --to go there this morning to meet me. "

"I didn't go there to meet you. "

"Yes you did. "

"I didn't!" said Elizabeth. "I never thought of such a thingas meeting you. "

"Nevertheless, in the regular chain and sequence of events, you went there to meet me -- if you hadn't gone you wouldn'thave met me. "

"O, if you put it in that way, " said Elizabeth, -- "there's noharm in that. "

"There is no harm in it at all. Quite the contrary. "

"I think it was the prettiest walk I ever took in my life, "said Elizabeth, -- "before that, I mean, " she added blushing. 

"My experience would say, after it, " said Winthrop, in anamused tone. 

"It was rather a confused walk after that, " said Elizabeth. "Inever was quite so much surprised. "

"You see I had not that disadvantage. I was only -- gratified. "

"Why, " said Elizabeth, her jealous fear instantly startingagain, "you didn't know what my answer would be before youasked me?"

She waited for Winthrop's answer, but none came. Elizabethcould not bear it. 

"Did you?" she said, looking round in her eagerness. 

He hesitated an instant, and then answered, "Did _you?_"

Elizabeth had no words. Her face sought the shelter of hersunbonnet again, and she almost felt as if she would haveliked to seek the shelter of the earth bodily, by diving downinto it. Her brain was swimming. There was a rush of thoughtsand ideas, a train of scattered causes and consequences, whichthen she had no power to set in order; but the rush almostoverwhelmed her, and what was wanting, shame added. She wasvexed with herself for her jealousy in divining and herimpatience in asking foolish questions; and in her vexationwas ready to be vexed with Winthrop, -- if she only knew how. She longed to lay her head down in her hands, but pride keptit up. She rested her chin on one hand and wondered whenWinthrop would speak again, -- she could not, -- and what hewould say; gazing at the blue bit of water and gay mountain-side, and thinking that she was not giving him a particularlyfavourable specimen of herself that morning, and vexed out ofmeasure to think it. 

Then upon this, a very quietly spoken "Elizabeth!" -- came toher ear. It was the first time Winthrop had called her so; butthat was not all. Quietly spoken as it was, there was not onlya little inquiry, there was a little amusement and a littleadmonition, in the tone. It stirred Elizabeth to her spirit'sdepths, but with several feelings; and for the life of her shecould not have spoken. 

"What is the reason you should hide your face so carefullyfrom me?" he went on presently, much in the same tone. "Mineis open to you -- it isn't fair play. "

Elizabeth could have laughed if she had not been afraid ofcrying. She kept herself hid in her sunbonnet and made noreply. 

"Suppose you take that thing off, and let me look at you. "

"It shades my face from the sun. "

"The cedar trees will do that for you. "

"No -- they wouldn't. "

And she kept her face steadily fixed upon the opposite shore, only brought straight before her now; thinking to herself thatshe would carry this point at any rate. But in another minuteshe was somewhat astounded to find Winthrop's left hand, hewas supporting himself carelessly on his right, quietly, veryquietly, untying her sunbonnet strings; and then rousinghimself, with the other hand he lifted the bonnet from herhead. It gave a full view then of hair in very nice order anda face not quite so; for the colour had now flushed to hervery temples with more feelings than one, and her eye wasdowncast, not caring to shew its revelations. She knew thatWinthrop took an observation of all, to his heart's content;but she could not look at him for an instant. Then withoutsaying anything, he got up and went off to a little distancewhere he made himself busy among some of the bushes and vineswhich were gay with the fall colouring Elizabeth sat droopingher head on her knees, for she could not absolutely hold itup. She looked at her sunbonnet lying on the bank beside her;but it is not an improper use of language to say that shedared not put it on. 

"I have met my master now, " she thought, and her eyessparkled, -- "once for all -- if I never did before. -- What afool I am!"

For she knew, she acknowledged to herself at the same moment, that she did not like him the less for it -- she liked himexceedingly the more; in spite of a twinge of deepmortification about it, and though there was bitter shame thathe should know or guess any of her feeling. If her eyessparkled, they sparkled through tears. 

The tears were got rid of, for Winthrop came back and threwhimself down again. Then with that he began to put wreaths ofthe orange and red winterberries and sprays of wych hazel andbits of exquisite ivy, one after the other, into her hands. Her hands took them mechanically, one after the other. Hereyes buried themselves in them. She wished for her sunbonnetshield again. 

"What do you bring these to me for?" she said rather abruptly. 

"Don't you like to have them?" said he, putting into herfingers another magnificent piece of Virginia creeper. 

"Yes indeed -- very much -- but --"

"It will be some time before I see you again, " said he as headded the last piece of his bunch. "These will be all gone. "

"Some time!" said Elizabeth. 

"Yes. There is work on my hands down yonder that admits of nodelay. I could but just snatch time enough to come up here. "

"I am very much obliged to you for these!" said Elizabeth, returning to her bunch of brilliant vine branches. 

"You can pay me for them in any way you please. "

The colour started again, but it was a very gentle, humble, and frank look which she turned round upon him. His was brightenough. 

"How soon do you think of coming to Mannahatta?"

"I don't know, --" said Elizabeth, not choosing to say exactlythe words that came to her tongue. 

"If I could be here too, I should say this is the best place. "

"Can't you come often enough?"

"How often would be often _enough?_" said he with an amusedlook. 

"Leave definitions on one side, and please answer me. "

"Willingly. I leave the definition on your side. I don't liketo speak in the dark. "

"Well, can't you come _tolerably_ often?" said Elizabethcolouring. 

He smiled. 

"Not for some time. My hands are very full just now. "

"You contrive to have them so always, don't you?"

"I like to have them so. It is not always my contrivance. "

"What has become of that suit -- I don't know the names now --in which you were engaged two or three years ago -- in whichyou took so many objections, and the Chancellor allowed themall, against Mr. Brick?"

"Ryle?"

"Yes! -- I believe that's the name. "

"For a man called Jean Lessing?"

"I don't know anything about Lessing -- I think Ryle was theother name --You were against Ryle. "

"Lessing was Mr. Herder's brother-in-law. "

"I don't remember Mr. Herder's brother-in-law -- though Ibelieve Mr. Herder _did_ have something to do with the case, orsome interest in it. "

"How did you know anything about it?"

"You haven't answered me, " said Elizabeth, laughing andcolouring brightly. 

"One question is as good as another, " said Winthrop smiling. 

"But one answer is much better than another, " said Elizabethin a little confusion. 

"The suit against Ryle was very successful. I recovered forhim some ninety thousand dollars. "

"Ninety thousand dollars!" -- Her thoughts took somewhat of awide circle and came back. 

"The amount recovered is hardly a fair criterion of the skillemployed, in every instance. I must correct your judgment. "

"I know more about it than that, " said Elizabeth. "How faryour education has gone! -- and mine is only just beginning. "

"I should be sorry to think mine was much more than beginning. Now do you know we must go down? -- for I must be at MountainSpring to meet the stage-coach. "

"How soon?" said Elizabeth springing up. 

"There is time enough, but I want not to hurry you down thehill. "

He had put her sunbonnet on her head again and was retying it. 

"Mr. Landholm --"

"You must not call me that, " he said. 

"Let me, till I can get courage to call you something else. "

"How much courage does it want?"

"If you don't stop, " said Elizabeth, her eyes filling withtears, "I shall not be able to say one word of what I want tosay. "

He stood still, holding the strings of her sunbonnet in eitherhand. Elizabeth gathered breath, or courage, and went on. 

"A little while ago I was grieving myself to think that youdid not know me -- now, I am very much ashamed to think thatyou do. " --

He did not move, nor she. 

"I know I am not worthy to have you look at me. My only hopeis, that you will make me better. "

The bonnet did not hide her face this time. He looked at it alittle, at the simplicity of ingenuous trouble which wasworking in it, -- and then pushing the bonnet a little back, kissed first one cheek and then the lips, which by that timewere bent down almost out of reach. But he reached them; andElizabeth was obliged to take her answer, in which there wasas much of gentle forgiveness and promise as of affection. 

"You see what you have to expect, if you talk to me in thisstrain, " said he lightly. "I think I shall not be troubledwith much more of it. I don't like to leave you in this frameof mind. I would take you to Mountain Spring in the boat -- ifI could bring you back again. "

"I could bring myself back, " said Elizabeth. They were goingdown the hill; in the course of which, it may be remarked, Winthrop had no reason to suppose that she once saw anythingbut the ground. 

"I am afraid you are too tired. "

"No indeed I am not. I should like it -- if there is time. "

"Go in less time that way than the other. "

So they presently reached the lower ground. 

"Do you want anything from the house?" said Winthrop as theycame near it. 

"Only the oars -- If you will get those, I will untie theboat. "

"Then I'll _not_ get the oars. I'll get them on condition thatyou stand still here. "

So they went down together to the rocks, and Elizabeth putherself in the stern of the little boat and they pushed off. 

To any people who could think of anything but each other, October offered enough to fill eyes, ears, and understanding;that is, if ears can be filled with silence, which perhaps ispredicable. Absolute silence on this occasion was wanting, asthere was a good deal of talking; but for eyes andunderstanding, perhaps it may safely be said that those of thetwo people in the Merry-go-round took the benefit of_everything_ they passed on their way; with a reduplication ofpleasure which arose from the throwing and catching of thatball of conversation, in which, like the herb-stuffed ball ofthe Arabian physician of old, -- lay perdu certain hiddenvirtues, of sympathy. But Shahweetah's low rocky shore neveroffered more beauty to any eyes, than to theirs that day, asthey coasted slowly round it. Colours, colours! If October hadbeen a dyer, he could not have shewn a greater variety ofsamples. 

There were some locust trees in the open cedar-grown field bythe river; trees that Mr. Landholm had planted long ago. Theywere slow to turn, yet they were changing. One soft featheryhead was in yellowish green, another of more neutral colour;and blending with them were the tints of a few reddish soft-tinted alders below. That group was not gay. Further on were athicket of dull coloured alders at the edge of some flags, andabove them blazed a giant huckleberry bush in bright flamecolour; close by that were the purple red tufts of some commonsumachs -- the one beautifully rich, the other beautifullystriking. A little way from them stood a tulip tree, its greenchanging with yellow. Beyond came cedars, in groups, wreathedwith bright tawny grape vines and splendid Virginia creepers, now in full glory. Above their tops, on the higher ground, wasa rich green belt of pines -- above _them_, the changing trees ofthe forest again. 

Here shewed an elm its straw-coloured head -- there stood anash in beautiful grey-purple; very stately. The cornus familyin rich crimson -- others crimson purple; maples shewing yellowand flame-colour and red all at once; one beauty still ingreen was _orange-tipped_ with rich orange. The birches were adarker hue of the same colour; hickories bright as gold. 

Then came the rocks, and rocky precipitous point ofShahweetah; and the echo of the row-locks from the wall. Thenthe point was turned, and the little boat sought the bottom ofthe bay, nearing Mountain Spring all the while. The water wasglassy smooth; the boat went -- too fast. 

Down in the bay the character of the woodland was a littledifferent. It was of fuller growth, and with many fewerevergreens, and some addition to the variety of the changingdeciduous leaves. When they got quite to the bottom of the bayand were coasting along close under the shore, there wasperhaps a more striking display of Autumn's glories at theirside, than the rocks of Shahweetah could shew them. Theycoasted slowly along, looking and talking. The combinationswere beautiful. 

There was the dark fine bright red of some pepperidges shewingbehind the green of an unchanged maple; near by stood anothermaple the leaves of which were all seemingly withered, a plainreddish light wood-colour; while below its withered foliage athrifty poison sumach wreathing round its trunk and lowerbranches, was in a beautiful confusion of fresh green and theorange and red changes, yet but just begun. Then anotherslight maple with the same dead wood-coloured leaves, intowhich to the very top a Virginia creeper had twined itself, and that was now brilliantly scarlet, magnificent in the lastdegree. Another like it a few trees off -- both reflectedgorgeously in the still water. Rock oaks were part green andpart sear; at the edge of the shore below them a quantity ofreddish low shrubbery; the cornus, dark crimson and red brown, with its white berries shewing underneath, and morepepperidges in very bright red. One maple stood with itsleaves parti-coloured reddish and green -- another withbeautiful orange-coloured foliage. Ashes in superb very darkpurple; they were all changed. Then alders, oaks, andchestnuts still green. A kaleidoscope view, on water and land, as the little boat glided along sending rainbow ripples intowards the shore. 

In the bottom of the bay Winthrop brought the boat to land, under a great red oak which stood in its fair dark greenbeauty yet at the very edge of the water. Mountain Spring wasa little way off, hidden by an outsetting point of woods. Asthe boat touched the tree-roots, Winthrop laid in the oars andcame and took a seat by the boat's mistress. 

"Are you going to walk to Mountain Spring the rest of theway?" she said. 

"No. "

"Will the stage-coach take you up here?"

"If it comes, it will. What are you going to do with yourselfnow, till I see you again?"

"There's enough to do, " said Elizabeth sighing. "I am going totry to behave myself. How soon will the coach be here now?"

"I think, not until I have seen you about half way over thebay on your way home. "

"O you will not see me, " said Elizabeth. "I am not goingbefore the coach does. "

"Yes you are. "

"What makes you think so?"

"Because it will not come till I have seen you at least, Ishould judge, half across the bay. "

"But I don't _want_ to go. "

"You are so unaccustomed to doing things you don't want to do, that it is good discipline for you. "

"Do you mean that seriously?" said Elizabeth, looking a littledisturbed. 

"I mean it half seriously, " said he laughing, getting up topush the boat to shore, which had swung a little off. 

"But nobody likes, or wants, self-imposed discipline, " saidElizabeth. 

"This isn't self-imposed -- I impose it, " said he throwing therope round a branch of the tree. "I don't mean anything thatneed make you look so, " he added as he came back to his place. 

Elizabeth looked up and her brow cleared. 

"I dare say you are right, " she said. "I will do just as youplease. "

"Stop a minute, " said he gently taking her hand -- "What do you'dare say' I am right about?"

"This -- or anything, " Elizabeth said, her eye wavering betweenthe water and the shore. 

"I don't want you to think that. "

"But how am I going to help it?"

He smiled a little and looked grave too. 

"I am going to give you a lesson to study. "

"Well? --" said Elizabeth with quick pleasure; and she watched, very like a child, while Winthrop sought in his pocket andbrought out an old letter, tore off a piece of the back andwrote on his knee with a pencil. 

Then he gave it to her. 

But it was the precept, --

'Little children, keep yourselves from idols. '

Elizabeth's face changed, and her eyes lifted themselves notup again. The colour rose, and spread, and deepened, and herhead only bent lower down over the paper. That thrust was witha barbed weapon. And there was a profound hush, and a bendedhead and a pained brow, till a hand came gently between hereyes and the paper and occupied the fingers that held it. Itwas the same hand that her fancy had once seen full ofcharacter -- she saw it again now; her thoughts made a springhack to that time and then to this. She looked up. 

It was a look to see. There was a witching mingling of thefrank, the childlike, and the womanly, in her troubled face;frankness that would not deny the truth that her monitorseemed to have read, a childlike simplicity of shame that heshould have divined it, and a womanly self-respect that ownedit had nothing to be ashamed of. These were not all thefeelings that were at work, nor that shewed their working; andit was a face of brilliant expression that Elizabeth lifted toher companion. In the cheeks the blood spoke brightly; in theeyes, fire; there was more than one tear there, too; and thecurve of the lips was unbent with a little tremulous play. Winthrop must have been a man of self-command to have stoodit; but he looked apparently no more concerned than if oldKaren had lifted up her face at him. 

"Do you know, " she said, and the moved line of the lips mightplainly be seen, -- "you are making it the more hard for me tolearn your lesson, even in the very giving it me?"

"What shall I do?"

Elizabeth hesitated, and conquered herself. 

"I guess you needn't do anything, " she said half laughing. "I'll try and do my part. "

There was a little answer of the face then, that sentElizabeth's eyes to the ground. 

"What do you mean by these words?" she said looking at themagain. 

"I don't mean anything. I simply give them to you. "

"Yes, and I might see an old musket standing round the house;but if you take it up and present it at me, it is fair to ask, what you mean?"

"It is not an old musket, to begin with, " said Winthroplaughing; "and if it goes off, it will shoot you _through theheart_. "

"You have the advantage of me entirely, this morning!" saidElizabeth. "I give up. I hope the next time you have thepleasure of seeing me, I shall be myself. "

"I hope so. I intend to keep my identity. Now as that stage-coach will not come till you get half over the bay --"

And a few minutes thereafter, the little boat was skimmingback for the point of Shahweetah, though not quite so swiftlyas it had come. But Elizabeth was not a mean oarsman; and ingood time she got home, and moored the Merry-go-round in itsplace. 

She was walking up to the house then, in very happy mood, onehand depending musingly at either string of her sunbonnet, when she was met by her cousin. 

"Well, " said Rose, -- "have you been out in the woods all thiswhile?"

"No. "

"I suppose it's all settled between you and Mr. Landholm?"

Elizabeth stood an instant, with hands depending as aforesaid, and then with a little inclination of her person, somewhatstately and more graceful, gave Rose to understand, that shehad no contradiction to make to this insinuation. 

"Is it!" said Rose. "Did he come up for that?"

"I suppose you know what he came for better than I do. "

"Did you know I wrote a letter to him?"

"I guessed it afterwards. Rose!" -- said Elizabeth suddenly, "there was nothing but about Karen in it?"

"Nothing in the world!" said Rose quickly. "What should therebe?"

"What did you write for?"

"I was frightened to death, and I wanted to see somebody; andI knew _you_ wouldn't send for him. Wasn't it good I did! --"

Rose clapped her hands. The colour in Elizabeth's face wasgradually getting brilliant. She passed on. 

"And now you' ll live in Mannahatta?"

Elizabeth did not answer. 

"And will you send for old Mr. Landholm to come back and takecare of this place again?"

"Hush, Rose! -- Mr. Landholm will do what he pleases. "

"_You_ don't please about it, I suppose?"

"Yes I do, Rose, -- not to talk at all on the subject!"

THE END. 

PRINTED BY BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ. 

Typographical errors silently corrected:

volume 1 chapter 1 : =to give you the best ;= silently correctedas =to give you the best, =

chapter 1 : =Winthrops eyes= silently corrected as =Winthrop'seyes=

chapter 2 : =we will launch, A vessel= silently corrected as we=will launch A vessel=

chapter 5 : =William what?"= silently corrected as ="Williamwhat?"=

chapter 7 : =For ought I see= silently corrected as =For aught Isee=

chapter 8 : =certainly very pretty, = silently corrected as=certainly very pretty. =

chapter 10 : ='It was a soft grey day= silently corrected as =Itwas a soft grey day=

chapter 10 : =It will find out more= silently corrected as =Iwill find out more=

chapter 13 : =repay you; my dear= silently corrected as =repayyou, my dear=

chapter 17 : =of no use to you;= silently corrected as =of no useto you, =

chapter 18 : =they all fight= silently corrected as ="they allfight=

chapter 20 : =very unsatisfactory?= silently corrected as =veryunsatisfactory!=

chapter 24 : =used depatch= silently corrected as =used despatch=

chapter 26 : ="Winnie's eye keenly= silently corrected as=Winnie's eye keenly=

volume 2 chapter 4 : =But we'll come= silently corrected as ="Butwe'll come=

chapter 5 : =do you s'pose, Miss 'Lisabeth= silently correctedas =do you s'pose, Miss 'Lizabeth=

chapter 7 : =ridden alternately. = silently corrected as =riddenalternately. "=

chapter 9 : =and then he asked. = silently corrected as =and thenhe asked, =

chapter 10 : =that "for ever' rest= silently corrected as =that'for ever' rest=

chapter 15 : ="Karen's reply= silently corrected as =Karen'sreply=

chapter 15 : =I'll see to her.. = silently corrected as =I'll seeto her. =