"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," said Elizabeth, 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 with bonnet and shawl, "you won't go without your breakfast? It will 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 summer morning on the water. The air seemed to have twice the life it had the evening before; the light was fair, beyond words to tell. Here its fresh gilding was upon a mountain slope; there it stretched in a long misty beam athwart a deep valley; it touched the broken points of rock, and glanced on the river, and seemed to make merry with the birds; fresh, gladsome and pure as their song. No token of man's busy life yet in the air; the birds had it. Only over Shahweetah valley, and from Mr. Underhill's chimney on the other side of the river, and from Sam Doolittle's in the bay, thin wreaths of blue smoke slowly went up, telling that there, — and there, — and there, — man was getting ready for his day's work, and woman had begun hers! Only those, and the soft stroke of Winthrop's oars; but to Elizabeth that seemed only play. She sat perfectly still, her eye varying from their regular dip to the sunny rocks of the headland, to the coloured mountain heads, the trees, the river, the curling smoke, — and back again to the oars; with a grave, intent, deep notice-taking. The water was neither for nor against them now; and with its light load and its good oars the boat flew. Diver's Rock was passed; then they got out of the sunshine into the cool shadow of the eastern shore below the bay, and fell down the river fast to the mill. Not a word was spoken by anybody till they got there.
Nor then by Elizabeth, till she saw Mr. Cowslip and Winthrop bringing her trunks and boxes to the boat-side.
"Hollo! you've got live cargo too, Governor," said the old miller. "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 was so low last night — there wasn't water enough in the bay. I am not 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't it?"
"Sartain," said Mr. Cowslip, "it's to hum, so it can start off again as soon as you like. My boy Hild can fetch up the things for you — if you think it's worth while to have it cost you a dollar."
"I don't care what it costs," said Elizabeth. "Send 'em up right away, and I'll pay for it."
So Winthrop dropped into his place again, and lightly and swiftly as before the boat went on her way back towards the blue smoke that curled up over Shahweetah; and Elizabeth's eyes again roved silently and enjoyingly from one thing to another. But they returned oftener to the oars, and rested there, and at last when they were about half way home, she said,
"I want to learn how to manage an oar — will you let me take one and try?"
Winthrop helped her to change her seat and put an oar into her hand, and gave her directions. The first attempts took effect upon nothing but Asahel's face, which gave witness to his amusement; and perhaps Winthrop's dress, which was largely splashed in the course of a few minutes. But Elizabeth did not seem to heed or care for either; she was intent upon the great problem of making her oar feel the water; and as gravely, if not quite so coolly, as Winthrop's instructions were delivered, she worked at her oar to follow them. A few random strokes, which did not seem to discriminate very justly between water and air, and then her oar had got hold of the water and was telling, though irregularly and fitfully, upon the boat. The difficulty was mastered; and she pulled with might and main for half the rest of the way home; Winthrop having nothing to do with his one oar but to keep the two sides of the boat together, till her arm was tired.
"Next time I'll take both oars," she said with a face of great satisfaction as she put herself back in her old seat. Asahel thought it would cure her of wearing pale cheeks, but he did not venture to make any remark.
Rose was waiting for them, sitting crouched discontentedly on the rocks.
"It's eight o'clock!" — said she, — "and I'm as hungry as a bear!"
"So am I," said Elizabeth springing ashore.
"What have you been doing? — keeping breakfast waiting this age?"
"I never saw any thing so delicious in all my life," said
Elizabeth emphatically, before condescending to say what.
"I shall tell Mr. Haye you are beginning a flirtation already," whispered Miss Cadwallader laughing as they went up to 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 her to the house, with a step as fine and firm as that of the Belvidere Apollo and a figure like a young pine tree. Rufus, who met her at the door, was astounded with a salutation such as a queen might bestow on a discarded courtier; but by the time the little lady came to the table she had got back her usual air.
"Well, how do you like boating before breakfast?" said Mr
Landholm.
"Very much," Elizabeth said.
"I don't like it very much," said he, "for I ought to have mowed half an acre by this time, instead of being here at my bread and butter."
"It was not my fault, sir."
"No, no; it's all right, I am glad you went. I should have taken my breakfast and been off, long ago; but I waited out of pure civility to you, to see how you did. 'Pon my word, I think 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 of the subject.
After breakfast the trunks arrived and the young ladies were busy; 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 on his knees as he was about to leave the table, and looking at her attentively.
"I want you to send somebody to shew me where the strawberries are."
"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'll have to wait a little. There aint a soul that can go with you this morning. Besides, I don't believe there are any ripe yet."
"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 to the 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 nothing to eat next winter, and that would be worse than your wanting strawberries. No — I'll tell you, — It'll be a fine afternoon; and you keep yourself quiet, out of the sun, till it gets towards evening; and I'll contrive to spare one of the boys to go with you. The strawberries will be all the riper, and you can get as many as you want in an hour or two."
So upon that the party scattered, and the house was deserted to the 'women-folks;' with the exception of little Asahel; and even he was despatched in a few hours to the field with the dinner of his father and brothers. The girls betook themselves to 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. "Now for it! That farmer is a very good man. I really didn't expect it."
"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 one handsome?"
"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 is handsome?"
"Yes; — before I can tell whether I think he is."
"Well, look at him, — I tell you he has the most splendid eyes."
"Rose Cadwallader!" said her cousin laying down her book, "what is it to you or me if all the farmer's sons in the land have splendid eyes?"
Elizabeth's eyebrows said it was very little to her.
"I like to look at a handsome face anywhere," said Rose pouting. "Come — will you."
Elizabeth did come, but with a very uncompromising set of the said eyebrows.
It appeared that everybody was going strawberrying, except Mrs. Landholm and Winthrop; at least the former had not her bonnet on, and the latter was not in the company at all. The children found this out and raised a cry of dismay, which was changed into a cry of entreaty as Winthrop came in. Winthrop was going after fish. But Winifred got hold of his hand, and Asahel withstood him with arguments; and at last Mrs. Landholm put in her gentle word, that strawberries would de just as well as fish, and better. So Winthrop put up his fishing-rod and shouldered the oars, and armed with baskets of all sizes the whole party trooped after him.
In the boat Elizabeth might have had a good opportunity to act upon her cousin's request; for Rufus sat in the stern with them and talked, while Winthrop handled the oars. But Rufus and her cousin had the talk all to themselves; Elizabeth held off from it, and gave her eyes to nothing but the river and the hills.
They crossed the river, going a little up, to a tiny green valley just at the water's edge. On every side but the river it was sheltered and shut in by woody walls nigh two hundred feet in height. The bottom of the valley was a fine greensward, only sprinkled with trees; while from the edge of it the virgin forest rose steeply to the first height, and then following the broken ground stretched away up to the top of the neighbouring mountains. From the valley bottom, however, nothing of these could be seen; nothing was to be seen but its own leafy walls and the blue sky above them.
"Is this the place where we are to find strawberries?" said
Miss Cadwallader.
"This is the place," said Rufus; "this is Bright Spot, from time out of mind the place for strawberries; nobody ever comes here but to pick them. The vines cover the ground."
"The sun won't be on it long," said Elizabeth; "I don't see why 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 a while."
"The grass is kept very fresh here," said Rufus. "But the strawberry vines are all over in it."
So it was proved. The valley was not a smooth level as it had looked from the river, but broken into little waves and hollows of ground; in parts, near the woods, a good deal strewn with loose rocks and grown with low clumpy bushes of different species of cornus, and buckthorn, and sweetbriar. In these nooks and hollows, and indeed over the whole surface of the ground the vines ran thick, and the berries, huge, rich and rare, pretended to hide themselves, while the whole air was alive with their sweetness.
The party landed and scattered with cries of delight far and near over the valley. Even Elizabeth's composure gave way. For a little while they did nothing but scatter; to sit still and pick was impossible; for the novelty and richness of the store seemed made for the eye as much as for anything else, and be the berries never so red in one place they seemed redder in another. Winthrop and Asahel, however, were soon steadily at work, and then little Winifred; and after a time Miss Cadwallader found that the berries were good for more than to look at, and Rufus had less trouble to keep in her neighbourhood. But it was a good while before Elizabeth began to pick either for lip or basket; she stood on the viney knolls, and looked, and smelled the air, and searched with her eye the openings in the luxuriant foliage that walled in the valley. At last, making a review of the living members of the picture, the young lady bethought herself, and set to work with great steadiness to cover the bottom of her basket.
In the course of this business, moving hither and thither as the bunches of red fruit tempted her, and without raising an eye beyond them, she was picking close to one of the parties before she knew whom she was near; and as they were in like ignorance she heard Asahel say,
"I wish Rufus would pick — he does nothing but eat, ever since he 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," said
Asahel.
"Do you think we'll get enough for mamma, Governor?" said little 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 emptying her own strawberries into the little girl's basket. Winifred looked down at the fresh supply and up into the young lady's face, and then gave her an "Oh thank you!" of such frank pleasure and astonishment that Elizabeth's energies were at once nerved. But first of all she went to see what Miss Cadwallader was about.
Miss Cadwallader was squatting in a nest of strawberries, with red 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 and sit down, Bess. Aren't they splendid? Don't you want to rest?"
"No."
Miss Rose, however, quitted the strawberries and placed herself 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 for beaux 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 should have 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 no point that lips could give them.
"I am thankful, Rose, that my head does not run upon the things that yours does!"
"What does yours run upon then?" said Rose pouting. "The other one, I suppose. That's the one you were helping with your strawberries just now. I dont think it is the wisest thing Mr. Haye has ever done, to send you and me here; — it's a pity there wasn't somebody to warn him."
"Rose!" — said the other, and her eyes seemed to lighten, one to the other, as she spoke, — "you know I don't like such talk — I detest and despise it! — it is utterly beneath me. You may indulge in all the nonsense you please, and descend to what you 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 kept them quiet, though with the last degree of clear utterance; and turning, as Rufus came up, she gave him a glare of her dark brown eyes that astonished him, and made off with a quick step to a part of the field where she could pick strawberries at a distance from everybody. She picked them somehow by instinct; she did not know what she was doing; her face rivalled their red bunches; and she picked with a kind of fury. That being the only way she had of venting her indignation, she threw it into her basket along with the strawberries. She hadn't worked so hard the whole afternoon. She edged away from the rest towards a wild corner, where amid rocks and bushes the strawberry vines spread rich and rank and the berries were larger and finer than any she had seen. She was determined to have a fine basketful for Winifred.
But she was unused to such stooping and steady work, and as she cooled down she grew very tired. She was in a rough grown place and she mounted on a rock and stood up to rest herself and look.
Pretty — pretty, it was. It was almost time to go home, for the sun was out of their strawberry patch and the woody walls were a few shades deeper coloured than they had been; while over the river, on the other side, the steep rocks of the home point sent back a warm glow yet. The hills beyond them stood in the sun, and in close contrast was the little deep green patch of fore-ground, lit up with the white or the gay dresses of the strawberry pickers. The sweet river, a bit of it, in the middle of the picture, half in sunshine, half in shade. It was like a little nest of fairy-land; so laughed the sunshine, so dwelt the shade, in this spot and in that one. Elizabeth stood fast. It was bewitching to the eyes. And while she looked, 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, when she felt two hands clasp her by the waist, and suddenly, swiftly, without a word of warning, she was swung off, clear to another rock about two yards distant, and there set down, "all standing." In bewildered astonishment, that only waited to become indignation, she turned to see whom she was to be angry with. Nobody was near her but Winthrop, and he had disappeared behind the rock on which she had just been standing. Elizabeth was not precisely in a mood for cool judgment; she stood like an offended brood-hen, with ruffled feathers, waiting to fly at the first likely offender. The rest 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 the rock; — "Winthrop has killed a rattlesnake!"
And Winthrop came round the bushes bringing his trophy; a large 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 near to Miss Haye, but he slid down among the bushes before I could catch him. We must take care when we come here now, for the mate 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 judge putting 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 word to the snake to keep quiet."
Elizabeth did not know precisely what to say; her cousin was looking in astonishment, and she saw the corners of Rufus's mouth twitching; she shut her lips resolutely and followed the party to the boat.
The talking and laughing was general among them on the way home, with all but her; she was thinking. She even forgot her strawberries for little Winifred, which she meant to have given her in full view of her cousin. She held her basket on her 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 down far behind Wut-a-qut-o. Wut-a-qut-o's shade was all over the river 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 where he was and where he had been. The low hills in the distant north were all in sunlight; as the little boat pulled over the river they were lost behind the point of Shahweetah, and the last ray was gone from the last mountain ridge in view. Cool shadows and lights were over the land, a flood of beauty overhead in the sky.
It was agreed on all hands that they had been very successful; and little Winifred openly rejoiced over the quantity they had brought home for 'mother'; but still Elizabeth did not add her store, and had nothing to say. When they got to the landing- place, she would stay on the rocks to see how the boat was made fast. Winifred ran up to the house with her basket, Miss Cadwallader went to get ready for supper, Rufus followed in her steps. Asahel and Elizabeth stayed in the sunset glow to see Winthrop finish his part of the work; and then they walked up together. Elizabeth kept her position on one side of the oars, but seemed as moody as ever, till they were about half way from the rocks; then suddenly she looked up into Winthrop'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 a thinking. It was not like a common farmer's boy. It spoke him as quiet in his own standing as she was in hers; and yet he certainly had come home that day in his shirt sleeves, and with his mower's jacket over his arm? It was very odd.
"What was it you said that strawberry-place was in the shadow of sometimes?"
"Wut-a-qut-o?"
"What's that?"
"The big mountain over there. This was in the shadow of it a little 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 if not satisfied that she had said enough, — "for you lifted me as 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 table said she had improved fifty per cent. since her coming to Shahweetah. Which opinion Mr. Haye confirmed when he came a day or two afterward.
CHAPTER X.
Cam. Be advised. Flo. I am; and by my fancy: if my reason Will 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 good promise; there was no danger they would tire of it. Mr. Haye gave it as his judgment that his daughter had come to the right place; and he was willing to spare no pains to keep her in the same mind. He brought up a little boat with him the next time he came, and a delicate pair of oars; and Elizabeth took to boating with great zeal. She asked for very little teaching; she had used her eyes, and now she patiently exercised her arms, till her eyes were satisfied; and after that the "Merry-go-round" had very soon earned a right to its name. Her father sent her a horse; and near every morning her blue habit was fluttering along the roads, to the great admiration of the country people who had never seen a long skirt before. And every afternoon, as soon as the sun hid himself behind the great western mountain, her little white boat stole out from the rocks and coasted about under the point or lay in the bay, wandering through sunshine and shade; loitering where the north wind blew softly, or resting with poised oars when the sun was sending royal messages to earth via the clouds. On horseback or in the boat, — Miss Elizabeth would not take exercise in so common a way as walking, — she did honour to the nurture of the fresh air. The thin cheek rounded out; and sallow and pale gave place to the clear rich colour of health.
Asahel was her general companion in the boat. Sometimes her cousin condescended to enjoy a sail of a summer's evening, but for the most part Asahel and Elizabeth went alone. Miss Cadwallader would neither row nor ride, and was very apt to eschew 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 to her cousin, who took to it kindly, and speedily made herself very popular. And there was certainly something very pleasant in her bright smile, always ready, and in her lovely face; and something pleasant too in her exceeding dainty and pretty manner of dressing. She fascinated the children's eyes, and if truth be told, more than the children. She seemed to have a universal spirit of good-humour. She never was so fast in a book but she would leave it to talk to the old or play with the young; and her politeness was unfailing. Elizabeth gave no trouble, but she seemed to have as little notion of giving pleasure; except to herself. That she did perfectly and without stop. For the rest, half the time she hardly seemed to know 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 he had not found it. He had been his mother's secret stand-by; he had been her fishmonger, her gamekeeper, her head gardener, her man-at-need in all manner of occasions. His own darling objects meanwhile were laid upon the shelf. He did his best. But after a day's work in the harvest field, and fishing for eels off the rocks till nine o'clock at night, what time was there for Virgil or Graeca Minora? Sometimes he must draw up his nets in the morning before he went to the field; and the fish must be cleaned after they were taken. Sometimes a half day must be spent in going after fruit. And whenever the farm could spare him for a longer time, he was off to the woods with his gun; to fetch home rabbits at least, if no other game was to be had. But all the while his own ground lay waste. To whomsoever the summer was good, he reckoned it a fruitless summer to him.
In the multitude of their enjoyments of out-door things, the girls took very naturally to the unwonted ways and usages of the country household. The farm living and the farm hours seemed to have no disgust for them. In the hot weather the doors often all stood open; and they sat in the keeping-room, and in the kitchen, and in their own room, and seemed to find all pleasant.
So one night Elizabeth and Mrs. Landholm were alone in the kitchen. It was a cool evening, though in midsummer, and they had gathered round the kitchen fire as being the most agreeable place. The children were long gone to bed; the rest of the family had at length followed them; Elizabeth and Mrs. Landholm alone kept their place. The one was darning some desperate-looking socks; the other, as usual, deep in a book. They had been very still and busy for a long time; and then as Elizabeth looked up for a moment and glanced at the stocking- covered hand of her neighbour, Mrs. Landholm looked up; their eyes 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 a great deal of stepping about, make pretty hard work with stockings."
"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 not have, 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 would not 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 remarked presently.
"What is that?"
Mrs. Landholm looked up again, and the look caught Elizabeth's eye, 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," she answered, her voice a little changed.
"But that is not exactly an answer, Mrs. Landholm," said
Elizabeth 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 and intelligent face, very innocent in its ignorance of life and life-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, Miss Elizabeth, do you think you have lived a blameless life all your life till now? — have you never done wrong?"
"Why no, I don't think that, — of course I have," Elizabeth answered gravely, and not without a shade of displeasure at the question.
"Do you know that for every one of those wrong doings your life is forfeit?"
"Why no!"
"And that you are living and sitting there, only because Jesus Christ paid his blood for your life? — Your time is bought time; — and he has written the Bible to tell you what to do with it."
"Am I not to do what I like with my own time?" thought Elizabeth. The thought was exceeding disagreeable; but before she or anybody had spoken again, the door of the big bed-room opened gently, and Miss Cadwallader's pretty face peeped out.
"Are they all gone to bed? — are they all gone to bed?" she said; — "may I come, Mrs Landholm?"
She was in her dressing-gown, and tripping across the floor with the prettiest little bare feet in the world, she took a chair in the corner of the fireplace.
"They got so cold," she said, — "I thought I would come out and warm 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 will think 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, you know; but I never want to."
Her words grated, perhaps on both her hearers; but neither of them answered.
"There was a man once," said Mrs. Landholm, "who read it a great deal; and he said that it was sweeter than honey and the honey-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, Miss
Elizabeth."
"What things?"
Mrs. Landholm paused a bit.
"A friend to go with you through life's journey — a sure friend and a strong one; a home ready at the journey's end; the name and the love of forgiven children, instead of the banishment of offenders; a clean heart and a right spirit in place of this sickly and sin-stricken nature! — a Saviour and a Father instead of a Judge."
It was impossible to forget the reddening eyes and trembling lips which kept the words company. Elizabeth found her own quivering for sympathy; why, she could not imagine. But there was so much in that face, — of patience and gladness, of strength and weakness, — it was no wonder it touched her. Mrs. Landholm's eyes fell to her work and she took up her stocking again and went on darning; but there was a quick motion of her needle that told how the spirits were moving.
Elizabeth sat still and did not look at her book. Miss Cadwallader hugged herself in her wrapper and muttered under her breath something about "stupid."
"Are your feet warm?" said Elizabeth.
"Yes."
"Then come! —"
Within their own room, she shut the door and without speaking went about with a certain quick energy which she accompanied with 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 slight pouting of her under lip. "And all because I said 'stupid!' Well I don't care — they are all stupid —Rufus was as stupid this afternoon as he could be; and there is no need, for he can be anything else. He was as stupid as he could be."
"What have you to do with Rufus?" said Elizabeth stamping slightly.
"Just what you have to do with Winthrop — amuse myself."
"You know I don't!" said Elizabeth. "How dare you say it! I do not choose to have such things said to me. You know, if that was all, that Winthrop does not amuse anybody — nobody ever sees him from meal-time to meal-time. You find Rufus very amusing, and he can talk very well, considering; but nobody knows whether the other one can be amusing, for ho never tried, so far as I know."
"I know," said her cousin; "they are a stupid set, all of them."
"They are not a stupid set," said Elizabeth; "there is not a stupid one of them, from the father down. They are anything but 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 been after them to-night. He is always after birds or fish or rabbits, when he isn't on the farm."
"I wonder what people find so much to do on a farm. I should think they'd grow stupid. — It is funny," said Miss Cadwallader as she got into bed, "how people in the country always think you must read the Bible."
Elizabeth lay a little while thinking about it and then fell asleep. She had slept, by the mind's unconscious measurement, a good while, when she awoke again. It startled her to see that a light came flickering through the cracks of her door from the kitchen. She slipped out of bed and softly and quickly lifted the latch. But it was not the house on fire. The light came from Mrs. Landholm's candle dying in its socket; beyond the candle, on the hearth, was the mistress of the house on her knees. Elizabeth would have doubted even then what she was about, but for the soft whisper of words which came to her ear. She shut the door as softly and quickly again, and got into bed with a kind of awe upon her. She had certainly heard people stand up in the pulpit and make prayers, and it seemed suitable that other people should bend upon cushions and bow heads while they did so; but that in a common-roofed house, on no particular occasion, anybody should kneel down to pray when he was alone and for his own sake, was something that had never come under her knowledge; and it gave her a disagreeable sort of shock. She lay awake and watched to see how soon Mrs. Landholm's light would go away; it died, the faint moonlight stole in through the window unhindered; and still there was no stir in the next room. Elizabeth watched and wondered; till after a long half hour she heard a light step 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. And this a woman who was tired every day with her day's work and had been particularly tired to-night! for Elizabeth had noticed it. It made her uncomfortable. Why should she spend her tired minutes in praying, after the whole house was asleep? and why was it that Elizabeth could not set her down as a fool for her pains? And on the contrary there grew up in her mind, on the instant, a respect for the whole family that wrapped them about like a halo.
One morning when Elizabeth came through the kitchen to mount her horse, Mrs. Landholm was doing some fine ironing. The blue habit 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," she answered. "I always love to do that."
"Winnie," said Elizabeth putting a bank bill into the little girl's hand, "I shall make you my messenger. Will you give that to the man who takes care of my horse, for I never see him, and tell him I say he does his work beautifully."
Winifred blushed and hesitated, and handing the note back said that 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 no necessity for your giving him anything."
"But why shouldn't I give it to him if I like it?" said
Elizabeth in great wonderment.
"It is a boy that works for my father, Miss Haye," said
Winthrop 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 ever I heard of," said Elizabeth; "and besides, what if I choose to throw it away?"
"You can. Only that it is doubtful whether it would be picked up."
"You think he wouldn't take it?"
"I think it is very likely."
"What a fool! — Then I shall send away my horse!" said Elizabeth; "for either he must be under obligation to me, or I to him; and I don't choose the latter."
"Do you expect to get through the world without being under obligation to anybody?" said Winthrop smiling.
But Elizabeth had turned, and marching out of the house did not make any reply.
"What's the objection to being under obligation, Miss Elizabeth?" said Mrs. Landholm. Elizabeth was mounting her horse, 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, but meeting the very composed face of the last speaker, as he put her foot in the stirrup, she thought better of it. She looked at 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 obliged to anybody, — of course except to my father."
"How if you had a husband?" inquired Mrs. Landholm with a good-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 little haughtily, with a very pretty tinge upon her cheek; — "I would not 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 obligation is always the inferior."
"I never felt it so," she replied.
Her guest could not feel, what her son did, the strong contrast they made. One little head was held as if certainly the neck had never been bowed under any sort of pressure; the other, in its meek dignity, spoke the mind of too noble a level to be either raised or lowered by an accident.
"It is another meaning of the word, mother, from that you arc accustomed to," Winthrop said.
Elizabeth looked at him, but nothing was to be gained from his face.
"Will you have the goodness to hand me my riding-whip," she said shortly.
"You will have to be obliged to me for that," he said as he picked 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 a little graceful. It was the pure grace of nature, the very speaking of her mind at the moment. Turning her horse's head she trotted off, her blue habit fluttering and her little head carried very gracefully to the wind and her horse's motion. They stood and looked after her.
"Poor child!" said Mrs. Landholm, — "she has something to learn. There is good in her too."
"Ay," said her son, "and there is gold in the earth; but it wants hands."
"Yes," said Mrs. Landholm, — "if she only fell into good hands —"
It might have been tempting, to a certain class of minds, to look at that pretty little figure flying off at full trot in all the riot of self-guidance, and to know that it only wanted good hands to train her into something really fine. But Mrs. Landholm went back to her ironing, and Winthrop to drive his oxen a field.
Elizabeth trotted till she had left them out of sight; and then walked her horse slowly while she thought what had been meant by that queer speech of Winthrop's. Then she reminded herself that it was of no sort of consequence what had been meant 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 was dismounting.
"Ain't it handsomely done?" said Asahel.
"Yes, — beautifully. Who does it?"
"It's somebody that always does things so," said Asahel oracularly, 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 her fashion to vent vexation so.
"What's the matter now?" said her cousin. "What adventure have you met with this morning?"
"Nothing at all."
"Well, what's the matter?"
"Nothing — only I want to lay my whip about somebody's shoulders, — if I could find the right person."
"Well 'taint me," said Rose shrinking. "Look here — I've got a delicious plan in my head — I'm going to make them take us in the 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'll go?"
"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 take a great deal too much of Rufus's time. I don't believe he does his duty on the farm, and he can't, if you will call upon him so 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. But come! — you'll go in the bay after huckleberries?"
"I shall not stir. You must make up your mind to go without me."
Which Rose declared was very disagreeable of her cousin, and she even shed a few tears; but a rock could not have received them 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, very agreeable. In the mean time Winthrop took the boat and went out on the bay to catch some fish.
It was near the time for him to be back again, and the whole party were gathered in the keeping-room and in the door-way; Elizabeth and Mrs. Landholm with their respective books and work, the others, children and all, rather on the expecting order and not doing much of any thing; when a quick springy footstep came round the house corner. Not Winthrop's, they all knew; his step was slower and more firm; and Winthrop's features were very little like the round good-humoured handsome face which presented itself at the front door.
"Mr. Herder!" cried the children. But Rose was first in his way.
"Miss Cadval-lader!" said the gentleman, — "I did not expect — Mrs. Landholm, how do you do? — Miss Elisabet' I did not look for 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 the children his cordial greeting. And was made to know Rufus.
"But where is Wint'rop?" said Mr. Herder, after they had done a 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 him and bring him back. I know de country. I did not come to see you, 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 so pleasant 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 will go wiz you, and I will go find Wint'rop and bring him home to go too."
"He is out on the bay," said Elizabeth; "I'll take you to him in my boat. Come Mr. Herder, — I don't want you, Rose; I'll take nobody but Mr. Herder; — we'll go after him."
She ran for her bonnet, seized her oars, and drew Mr. Herder with her down to the rocks.
It was a soft grey day; pleasant boating at that or at any hour, the sun was so obscured with light clouds. Elizabeth seated Mr. Herder in the stern of the 'Merry-go-round,' and pulled out lightly into the bay; he very much amused with her water-craft.
They presently caught sight of the other boat, moored a little distance out from the land, behind a point.
"There he is!" — said Mr. Herder. "But what is he doing? He is not fishing. Row your boat soft, Miss Elisabet' — hush! — do not 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 fishing rod dipped its end lazily in, — the cork floated at rest; and the fisher seated in his boat, was giving his whole attention seemingly to something in his boat. Very softly and pretty skilfully they stole up.
He had something of the wild duck about him; for before they could get more than near at hand, he had looked up, looked round, and risen to greet them. By his help the boats were laid close alongside of each other; and while Winthrop and Mr. Herder were shaking hands across them, Elizabeth quietly leaned over into the stern of the fishing-boat and took up one or two books which lay there. The first proved to be an ill- bound, ill printed, Greek and Latin dictionary; the other was a Homer! Elizabeth laid them down again greatly amazed, and wondering what kind of people she had got among.
"What brings you here now, Mr. Herder?" said Winthrop. "Have you come to look after the American Eagle?"
"Ha! — no — I have not come to look after no eagle; — and yet I do not know — I have come to see you, and I do not know what you will turn to be —the eagle flies high, you know."
Winthrop was preparing to tie the two boats together, and did not answer. Mr. Herder stepped from the one he was in and took a seat in Winthrop's. Elizabeth would not leave her own, though she permitted Winthrop to attach it to his and to do the 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 did not come to see you this time — I want to speak to this young American Eagle."
And he settled himself comfortably with his back to Elizabeth, and turned to talk to Winthrop, as answering to his strong arm the two boats began to fly over the water.
"You see," he said, "I have stopped here just to see you. You have not change your mind, I hope, about going to de Université?"
"No sir."
"Goot. In de Université where I am, there is a foundation — I mean by that, the College has monies, that she is in right to spend to help those students that are not quite rich enough — if they have a leetle, she gives them a leetle more, till they can get through and come out wiz their studies. This Université has a foundation; and it is full; but the President is my friend, and he knows that I have a friend; and he said to me that he would make room for one more, though we are very full, and take you in; so that it will cost you very little. I speak that, for I know that you could not wish to spend so much 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 that Winthrop should take it and so make his brother's case hopeless, by swallowing up all the little means that of right must go to set him forward first. There was a strong heaving of motives against each other in Winthrop's bosom. But his face did not shew it; there was no change in his cool grey eye; after a minute's hesitation he answered, lying on his oars,
"I thank you very much Mr. Herder — I would do it gladly — but
I 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. You will see me in Mannahatta by and by," he added with a faint smile and beginning to row again; — "but I don't know when."
"I wish it would be soon," said the naturalist. "I should like to have you there wiz me. But you must not give up for difficulties. You must come?"
"I shall come," said Winthrop.
"How would you like this?" said Mr. Herder after pondering a little. "I have a friend who is an excellent — what you call him? — bookseller — Would you like a place wiz him, to keep his books and attend to his business, for a while, and so get up by degrees? I could get you a place wiz him."
"No, sir," said Winthrop smiling; — "the eagle never begins by being something else."
"Dat is true," said the naturalist. "Well — I wish I could do you some goot, but you will not let me; — and I trust you that you 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; and she was a little astonished again when they reached the land to see her boatman grasp her friend's hand and give it a very hearty shake.
"I shall never forget it, sir," she heard Winthrop say.
"I do not wish that," said the naturalist. "What for should you remember it? it is good for nozing."
"Is that boy studying Latin and Greek?" said Elizabeth as she and 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 the boat 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 a corner with it, seldom giving her eyes to anything beside.
Yet there was enough on every hand to call them away. The soft grey sky and grey water, the deep heavy-green foliage of the banks, and the fine quiet outlines of the further mountains, set off by no brilliant points of light and shade, — made a picture rare in its kind of beauty. Its colouring was not the cold grey of the autumn, only a soft mellow chastening of summer's gorgeousness. A little ripple on the water, — a little fleckiness in the cloud, — a quiet air; it was one of summer's choice days, when she escapes from the sun's fierce watch and sits down to rest herself. But Elizabeth's eyes, if they wavered at all, were called off by some burst of the noisy sociability of the party, in which she deigned not to share. Her cousin, Mr. Herder, Rufus, Asahel, and Winifred, were in full cry after pleasure; and a cheery hunt they made of it.
"Miss Elisabet' does look grave at us," said the naturalist, — "she is the only one wise of us all; she does nothing but read. 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 but novels."
"That's not true, Rose Cadwallader, and you know it."
"A novel!" said Mr. Herder. "Ah! — yes — that is what the ladies read — they do not trouble themselves wiz ugly big dictionaries — they have easy times."
He did not mean any reproof; but Elizabeth's cheek coloured exceedingly and for several minutes kept its glow; and though her 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 in to the bank as possible. No more was necessary to get at the fruit, for the bushes grew down to the very water's edge and hung over, black with berries, though us Asahel remarked, a great many of them were blue. Everybody had baskets, and now the fun was to hold the baskets under and fill them from the overhanging bunches as fast as they could; though in the case of one or two of the party the more summary way of carrying the bushes off bodily seemed to be preferred.
"And this is huckle-berry," said Mr. Herder, with a bush in his hand and a berry in his mouth. "Well — it is sweet — a little; — it is not goot for much."
"Why Mr. Herder!" said Rose; — "They make excellent pies, and
Mrs. Landholm has promised to make us some, if we get enough."
"Pies!" said the naturalist, — "let us get a great many huckleberry then — but I am very sorry I shall not be here to eat the pies wiz you. Pull us a little, Wint'rop — we have picked everything. Stop! — I see, — I will get you some pies! —"
He jumped from the boat and away he went up the bank, through a thick growth of young wood and undergrowth of alder and dogwood and buckthorn and maple and huckleberry bushes. He scrambled on up hill, and in a little while came down again with a load of fruity branches, which he threw into the boat. While the others were gathering them up, he stood still near the edge of the water, looking abroad over the scene. The whole little bay, with its high green border, the further river-channel with Diver's Rock setting out into it, and above, below, and over against him the high broken horizon line of the mountains; the flecked grey cloud and the ripply grey water.
"This is a pretty place!" said the naturalist. "I have seen no such pretty place in America. I should love to live here. I should be a happy man! — But one does not live for to be happy," 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 Rufus with a satiric glance at the cover of Elizabeth's book, — "it would be folly to go further."
"What do you live for, Mr. Herder?" said Elizabeth, giving
Rufus'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 for that I spend my days and my nights. I have found out some — I will find out more."
"And what is the purpose of finding out this truth, Mr. Herder?" said Rufus; — "what is that for? doesn't that make you happy?"
"No," said the naturalist with a serious air, — "it does not make me happy. I must find it out — since it is there — and I could not be happy if I did not find it; — but if dere was no truth to be found, I could make myself more happy in some ozer way."
The fine corners of the young man's mouth shewed that he thought 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 making at the same time an energetic effort after a difficult branch of huckleberries, — "no! — not in the ordinary way!"
"In what way then?" said the young lady with her favourite pout.
"He has just shewed you, Miss Rose," said Winthrop; — "in getting 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 his brother.
"But Mr. Herder," said Elizabeth, "why do you want to find out truth? — what is it for?"
"For science — for knowledge; — that is what will do goot to the world and make ozer happy. It is not to live like a man to live for himself."
"Then what should one live for," said Elizabeth a little impatiently, — "if it isn't to be happy?"
"I would rather not live at all," said Rose, her pretty lips black with huckleberries, which indeed was the case with the whole party.
"You yourself, Mr. Herder, that is your happiness — to find out truth, as you say — to advance science and learning and do good to other people; you find your own pleasure in it."
"Yes, Mr. Herder," chimed in Rose, — "don't you love flowers and stones and birds and fishes, and beetles, and animals — don't you love them as much as we do dogs and horses? — don't you love that little black monkey you shewed us the other day?"
"No, Miss Rose," said the naturalist, — "no, I do not love them — I do not care for them; — I love what is back of those things; 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 do say 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 a thick 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 get home."