"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 storage and take away my trunk."
"To-night?" said Mr. Forriner.
"Well, cousin, we shall be glad to see you sometimes," said
Mrs. Forriner.
"At what times, ma'am?" said Winthrop.
He spoke with a straightforward simplicity which a little daunted 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 good condition — very far from the full perfection which I have known is possible; but you will all be contented, will you not, to hear that I have so much, and that I have no more? I don't know — I think of your dear circle at home — and though I cannot wish the heaven over your heads to be a whit less bright, I cannot help wishing that you may miss one constellation. You can't have any more than that from poor human 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 do believe that some at least of your side of the world are made of better stuff than mine.
"'All are not such.'
"But you want to hear of me rather than of yourselves, and I come back to where I began.
"I went to see Mr. De Wort the day after I reached here. I like him very well. He received me politely, and very handsomely waived the customary fee ($250) and admitted me to the privileges of his office upon working terms. So I am working now, for him and for myself, as diligently as I ever worked in my life — in a fair way to be a lawyer, Winnie. By day engrossing deeds and copying long-winded papers, about the quarrels and wrongs of Mr. A. and Mr. B. — and at night digging into parchment-covered books, a dryer and barrener soil than any near Wut-a-qut-o or on the old mountain itself, and which must nevertheless be digged into for certain dry and musty fruits of knowledge to be fetched out of them. I am too busy to get the blues, but when I go out to take an exercise walk now and then at dusk or dawn, I do wish I could transport myself to the neighbourhood of that same mountain, and handle the axe till I had filled mother's fireplace, or take a turn in the barn at father's wheat or flax. I should accomplish a good deal before you were up; but I wouldn't go away without looking in at you.
"I am in the same house where Rufus lived when he was in Mannahatta, with his friend Mr. Inchbald; and a kinder friend I do not wish for. He is an Englishman — a fine-looking and fine-hearted fellow — ready to do everything for me, and putting me upon terms almost too easy for my comfort. He is a miniature painter, by profession, but I fear does not make much of a living. That does not hinder his being as generous as if he had thousands to dispose of. His heart does not take counsel with his purse, nor with anything but his heart. He lives with a widowed sister who keeps his house; and she is as kind in her way as he is in his, though the ways are different. I am as much at home here as I can be. I have Rufus's old room; it is a very pleasant one, and if there is not much furniture, neither do I want much. It holds my bed and my books; and my wardrobe at present does not require very extensive accommodations; and when I am in the middle of one of those said parchment-covered tomes, it signifies very little 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 I myself am concerned; for my license and my use of it, must be worked and waited for. I shall not be a great lawyer, dear Winnie, under three years at least.
"For you all, I desire so much that my heart almost shuts up its store and says nothing. So much that for a long time, it may be, I can have no means of helping you to enjoy. Dear father and mother, I hope I have not on the whole lessened your 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 seemed strong as life. I could do no other than as I have done. Yet I can hardly bear to think of you at home sometimes. Dear Winnie and Asahel, our images rise up and lie down with me. Asahel must study hard every minute of time he can get. And Winnie, you must study too every minute that it does not tire you, and when mother does not want you. And write to me. That will do you 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 out the 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 other words, to pour over all my roiled feelings from my own heart into yours, hoping benevolently to find my own thereby cleared. What will be the case with yours, I don't like to stop to think; but incline to the opinion, which I have for many years held, that nothing can roil it. You are infinitely better than I, Governor; you deserve to be very much happier; and I hope you are. The truth is, for I may as well come to it, — I am half sick of my work. I can see your face from here, and know just what its want of expression expresses. But stop. You are not in my place, and don't know anything about it. You are qualifying yourself for one of the first literary professions — and it is one of the greatest matters of joy to me to think that you are. You are bidding fair to stand, where no doubt you will stand, at the head of society. Nothing is beyond your powers; and your powers will stop short of nothing within their reach. I know you, and hug myself (not having you at 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 a place not calculated to develope or cultivate the finer part of a man's nature. My associates, without an exception, are boors and donkeys, not unfrequently combining the agreeable properties of both in one anomalous animal yclept a clown. With them my days, for the greater part, are spent; and my nights in a series of calculations almost equally extinguishing to any brightness of mind or spirit. The consequence is I feel my light put out! — not hid under a bushel, but absolutely quenched in its proper existence. I felt so when I began to write this letter; but by dint of looking steadily for so long a time towards you, I perceive a reflection of light and warmth coming back upon me and beginning to take effect upon my own tinder, whereby I gather that it is capable of being ignited again. Seriously, Winthrop, I am sick of this. This was not what we left home for. I suppose in time, and with business enough, one might make 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? I must finish this piece of work — that will keep me in the wilds and fastnesses of this beautiful region (for it is a superb country, Winthrop; nature goes far here to make up for the want of all other discoursers whatever. I have sometimes felt as if she would make a poet of me, would I, nold I,) the finishing of my work here will detain me in the North at least till June or July of the coming summer; perhaps August. And then it is intimated to me my services would be acceptable out West — somewhere near Sawcusto. I have a great mind to come to Mannahatta — perhaps take a tutorship till something better offers — Herder said I would have no sort of difficulty in getting one, or at least he said what amounted to that — and perhaps, eventually, enter the political line. I am undecided, except in my disapprobation and dislike of what and where I now am. I have half an inclination to study law with you. It is hard to do anything with Fortune's wheel when one is at the very bottom; and the jade seems to act as if you were a drag upon her. And it is hard that you and I should be at opposite sides of the world while we are both tugging at said wheel. I sometimes think we could work to more advantage nearer together; we could work with somewhat more comfort. I am in exile here. Write me as soon as you can.
"My pleasantest thoughts are of you. Herder is as good as he can be, and you are his favourite; you will presently have the best literary society, through his means. You don't speak of Haye. Don't you go there? You had better, Winthrop; — you may find a short cut to the top of Fortune's wheel through the front door of his house. At any rate, there are two very pretty girls there and a number of other pleasant things, with which you will do well to make yourself acquainted, come thereafter what may. I wrote to them at home a week or two ago.
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 not be discouraged by the fact of making money. And don't try to turn 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 lessons in the classics several hours daily, in order to live while he was carrying on his own studies; nor that, to keep the burden of his kind hosts, as well as his own burden, from growing any heavier, he had refused to eat with them; and was keeping himself in the most frugal manner, partly by the help of a chop-house, and partly by the countenance and support of a very humble little tin coffee-pot and saucepan in his own attic at home. Mr. Haye's front door he had never entered, and was more than indifferent where or what it led to.
"Why for do you not come to your friend, Mr. Haye, ever?" said
Mr. 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 no person I like to see better come into my room; but ozer people would 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 are working 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 the naturalist.
Winthrop replied by a question about a new specimen; and the whole world of animate nature was presently buried in the bowels of the earth, or in the depths of philosophy, which comes to about the same thing.
But it fell out that same day that Winthrop, going into the chop-house to fit himself for hard work with a somewhat better dinner than usual, planted himself just opposite a table which five minutes after was taken by Mr. Haye. It happened then that after the usual solitary and selfish wont of such places, the meals were near over before either of the gentlemen found out he had ever seen the other. But in the course of Mr. Haye's second glass of wine, his eye took a satisfied fit of roving over the company; and presently discovered something it had seen before in the figure and face opposite to him and in the eye which was somewhat carelessly running over the columns of a newspaper. Glass in hand Mr. Haye rose, and the next instant Winthrop felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Mr. Landholm — isn't it? I thought so. Why, I've been on the
point 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 the hand 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 not wish to be introduced."
"But my dear Mr. Landholm! — are you serious?"
"Always, sir."
"Most extraordinary! — But can't you be persuaded? I think you are wrong."
"I must abide the consequences, I am afraid."
"Well, stay! — Will you come to my house to-night and let me give 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 afternoon business with the feeling that none would be done in the evening. Which did not make him more diligent, because it could not.
Mr. Haye's house was near the lower end of the Parade, and one of the best in the city. It was a very handsome room in which Winthrop found the family; as luxuriously fitted up as the fashion of those times permitted; and the little group gathered there did certainly look as if all the business of the world was done without them, and a good part of it for them; so undoubtedly easy and comfortable was the flow of their laces and the sweep of their silk gowns; so questionless of toil or endurance was the position of each little figure upon soft cushions, and the play of pretty fingers with delicate do-nothing bobbins and thread. Rose was literally playing with hers, for the true business of the hour seemed to be a gentleman who sat at her feet on an ottoman, and who was introduced to Winthrop as Mr. Satterthwaite. Elizabeth according to her fashion sat a little apart and seemed to be earnestly intent upon some sort of fine net manufacture. They three were all.
Winthrop's reception was after the former manner; from Rose extremely and sweetly free and cordial; from Elizabeth grave and matter-of-fact. She went back to her net-work; and Rose presently found Mr. Satterthwaite very interesting again, and went back to him, so far as looks and talk were concerned. Winthrop could but conclude that he was not interesting, for neither of the ladies certainly found him so. He had an excellent 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 would not see in many a summer day; with all the sweet flush of youth 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; — to see her but once, she would be noted and remembered as a most rare picture of humanity. But Winthrop had seen her more than once. His eye passed on.
Her cousin had changed for the better; though it might be only the change which years make in a girl at that age, rather than any real difference of character. She had grown handsomer. The cheek was well rounded out now, and had a clear healthy tinge, though not at all Rose's white and red. Elizabeth's colour only came when there was a call for it and then it came promptly. And she was not very apt to smile; when she did, it was more often with a careless or scornful turn, or full and bright with a sense of the ludicrous; never a loving or benevolent smile, such as those that constantly graced Rose's pretty lip. Her mouth kept its old cut of grave independence, Winthrop saw at a glance; and her eye, when by chance she lifted it and it met his, was the very same mixture of coolness and fire that it had been of old; the fire for herself, the coolness for all the rest of the world.
She looked down again at her netting immediately, but the look had probably reminded her that nobody in her father's house was playing the hostess at the moment. A disagreeable reminder it is likely, for she worked away at her netting more vigorously than ever, and it was two or three minutes before her 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 that they did not do what they left her to do. But seeing they were a hopeless case, after another minute or two of pulling at her netting, she changed her seat for one on his side of the room. Winthrop gave her no help, and she followed up her duty move with 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 be pleasure."
"You are drawing a distinction in one breath which you confound in the next," said Elizabeth.
"I didn't know that you would detect it," he said with a half smile.
"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 to be compared."
"The things to be compared! —" said she, with a good look at him out of her dark eyes. "And which of them do you think I don'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," said
Elizabeth, 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 of business?"
"I am only learning my trade," he answered.
"A trade! — May I ask what?" she said, with another surprised and inquisitive look.
"A sort of cobbling trade, Miss Elizabeth — the trade of the law."
"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 give it, Miss Haye?"
"I thought it was a poor kind of mending."
"I am afraid there is some of that work done in the profession," said Winthrop smiling. "Occasionally. But it is the profession and not the law that is chargeable, for the most 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 could not 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 than you have, Mr. Landholm."
"One thing at least doesn't need cobbling," he said with a smile.
"I never heard such a belittling character of the profession," she went on. "Your mother would have given it a very different one, 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's name, or the remembrance of her spirit, something procured Miss Elizabeth a quick little bright smile of answer, very different from anything she had had from Winthrop before. So different, that her eyes went down to her work for several minutes, and she forgot everything else in a sort of wonder at the change and at the beauty of expression his face could put on.
"I didn't find those words myself," she added presently; — "a foolish man was shewing me the other day what he said was my verse in some chapter of Proverbs; and it happened to be that."
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, Miss
Haye."
"O, so do I! — at least — I don't know that it signifies much to me what sort of a place I am in. If I can only have the things 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 two friends that one cares about."
"Cut off two of those preliminaries, — and which one would you keep 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 seams open."
"Why?"
"You remember, nobody was to use it but me."
A curious recollection of the time when it was given and of the feeling, half condescending, half haughty, with which it had been given, came over Elizabeth; and for a moment or two she was a little confused. Whether Winthrop recollected it too or whether he had a mischievous mind that she should, he said presently,
"And what's become of your horse, Miss Elizabeth?"
"He's very well," she said. "At least — I don't know I am sure how he is, for he is up in the country."
Winthrop rose at the instant to greet Mr. Herder, and Elizabeth did not know whether the smile on his lips was for him or at her.
"Ah! Wint'rop," said the new-comer, "how do you do! I thought you 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 for me — I could not bring him — neizer for de love of me, nor for de love of you, nor for love of himself. He does like to have his way. And now he is here — I do not know what for; but I am very glad to see him."
He walked Winthrop off.
"He is a strange man," thought Elizabeth; — "he don't seem to care in the least what he ever did or may do; he would just as lief remind me of it as not. It is very odd that he shouldn't want to come here, too."
She sat still and worked alone. When Mr. Haye by and by came in, he joined Winthrop and Mr. Herder, and they three formed a group which even the serving of tea and coffee did not break up. Elizabeth's eye glanced over now and then towards the interested heads of the talkers, and then at Rose and Mr. Satterthwaite, who on the other side were also enough for each other's contentment and seemed to care for no interruption. Elizabeth interrupted nobody.
But so soon as awhile after tea Mr. Satterthwaite left the company, Rose tripped across to the other group and placed her pretty person over against the naturalist and his young friend.
"Mr. Herder, you are taking up all of Mr. Landholm — I haven't seen him or spoken to him the whole evening."
"Dere he is, Miss Rose," said the naturalist. "Do what you like wiz him."
"But you don't give a chance. Mr. Landholm, are you as great a favourite 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 to make you acquainted with Mr. Satterthwaite."
Winthrop bowed, and Mr. Haye remarked that Mr. Satterthwaite was not much to be acquainted with.
"No, but still — he's very pleasant," Rose said. "And how is everything up at your lovely place, Mr. Landholm?"
"Cold, at present, Miss Cadwallader."
"O yes, of course; but then I should think it would be lovely at 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 that summer. 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 with a 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 good company."
"Mr. Wint'rop will do so well, Miss Rose," said the naturalist.
"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. "I asked 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 cool certainty.
"Why, Mr. Landholm! —"
"He is very — you cannot do nozing wiz him, Miss Rose," said the 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 he would come for anybody else's," said Elizabeth.
She left her solitary chair however, and came up and stood behind Mr. Herder.
"He pleads business," said Mr. Haye.
"Miss Elisabet', we want your help," said Mr. Herder. "He is working 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 Winthrop gravely. "Not much of the theory, but a good deal of the practice."
"I'll bear her witness of one thing," said Mr. Haye; "if she can'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 fire which she strove to keep under.
"It's not fair!" she exclaimed. "If I make work for you, I am sure it is work that nobody takes up."
"That's true," said her father laughing, — "it would be too much 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's only a little extra strong machinery that wants a good engineer."
"That's no fault in the machinery, sir," said Winthrop.
"And all you have to do," suggested Mr. Herder, "is to find a good engineer."
"I am my own engineer!" said Elizabeth, a little soothed by the 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," she answered with abundant haughtiness.
"It is one mark of a good engineer to be a match for his machinery," said Winthrop quietly.
It was said so coolly and simply that Elizabeth did not take offence. She stood, rather cooled down and thoughtful, still at the back of Mr. Herder's chair. Winthrop rose to take leave, 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 hand cordially.
Mr. Herder went with his friend. Mr. Haye soon himself followed, leaving the two ladies alone. Both sat down in silence at the table; Elizabeth with a book, Miss Cadwallader with her fancy work; but neither of them seemed very intent on what she was about. The work went on lazily, and the leaves of the book were not turned over.
"I wish I was Winthrop Landholm," said Rose at length.
"Why?" — said her cousin, after a sufficient time had marked her 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 to gain."
"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 have now."
"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 possible inducement could make me wish myself Mr. Satterthwaite, for a moment."
"I don't care for Mr. Satterthwaite," said Rose coolly. "But how 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 to dinner."
"No, but such a person."
"What 'such a person'?"
"O, a farmer's boy. Mr. Haye wouldn't have done it once. But that's the way he always comes round to people when they get up 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 President Darcy says there are not two such young men seen in half a century 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 without lifting her face from her work.
"You know, — about my father. No matter what he does, if it were the worst thing in the world, your lips have no business to mention it to my ears."
"I wasn't saying anything bad," said Rose.
"Your notions of bad and good, and honourable and dishonourable, are very different from mine! If he did as you say, I should be bitterly ashamed."
"I don't see why."
"I will not have such things spoken of to me, — Rose, do you understand? What my father does, no human being has a right to comment upon to me; and none shall!"
"You think you may talk as you like to me," said Rose, between pouting 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 the room.
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 he dressed himself, and was looking out a pockethandkerchief from the small store in his trunk, when the door opened.
"Rufus! —"
"Ah! — you didn't expect to see me, did you?" said that gentleman, taking off his hat and coming in and closing the door 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 bring me?"
"Something of the nature of a centrifugal force, I should judge."
"Centrifugal! — You are my centre, Governor, — don't you know that? I tend to you as naturally as the poor earth does to the sun. That's why I am here — I couldn't keep at a distance any longer."
"My dear sir, at that rate you are running to destruction."
"No, no," said Rufus laughing, — "there's a certain degree of license in our moral planetary system — I'm going away again as soon as I am rightly refreshed with the communication of your light and warmth."
"Well," said Winthrop untying his neckcloth, "it would seem but 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 a sufficient 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 hinder you."
"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 my shirt ruffles, I fear, are in a state of impoverished elegance. — I speak not in respect of one or two holes, of which they are the worse, — but solely in reference to the coercive power of narrow circumstances — which nobody knows anything of that hasn't experienced it," said Rufus, looking up from his valise to his brother with an expression half earnest, half comical.
"You are not suffering under it at this moment," said
Winthrop.
"Yes I am — in the form of my frills. Look there! — I'll tell you what I'll do — I'll invoke the charities of my good friend, Mrs. Nettley. Is she down stairs? — I'll be back in a moment, Winthrop."
Down stairs, shirt in hand, went Rufus, and tapped at Mrs. Nettley's door. That is, the door of the room where she usually lived, a sort of better class kitchen, which held the place of what in houses of more pretension is called the 'back parlour.' Mrs. Nettley's own hand opened the door at his tap.
She was a strong contrast to her brother, with her rather small person and a face all the lines of which were like a cobweb set to catch every care that was flying; but woven by no malevolent spider; it was a very nest of kindliness and good-will.
"How d'ye do, Mrs. Nettley," said Rufus softly.
"Why, Mr. Landholm! — are you there? Come in — how good it is to 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. Nettley laughing, — "I expected to see you again; but not now — I didn'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 Rufus comically.
"Mr. Landholm? —"
"You see, Mrs. Nettley," Rufus went on, "I have come all the way from North Lyttleton to dine with a friend and my brother here; and now I am come, I find that without your good offices I haven't a ruffle to ruffle myself withal; or in other words, I am afraid people would think I had packed myself bodily into my valise, and thereby conclude I was a smaller affair than they 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 the crumpled frills, — "It's to smooth them, — yes sir, my fire is all out a'most, but I can iron them in the oven. I'll do it directly, Mr. Landholm."
"Well," said Rufus with a quizzical face, — "any way — if you'll ensure them against damages, Mrs. Nettley — I don't understand 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 her irons in the oven's mouth, where a brilliant fire was at work.
"I should think you would, ma'am; he can fill it much better than I."
"Why Mr. Landholm! — I should think — I shouldn't think, to look 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; but there's no hurrying it; — I think it's the wood — I told George I think this wood does not give out the heat it ought to do. It makes it very extravagant wood. One has to burn so much 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 the handsomest."
"Everybody don't think so," Rufus said, but with a play of lip and brow that was not on the whole unsatisfied. Mrs. Nettley's attention however was now fastened upon the frills. And then came in Mr. Inchbald; and they talked, a sort of whirlwind of talk, as his sister not unaptly described it; and then, the ruffles being in order Rufus put himself so, and Winthrop and he talked themselves all the way down to No. 11, on the Parade.
Their welcome was most hearty, though the company were already at table. Place was speedily made for them; and Rufus hardly waited to take his before he became the life and spirit of the party. He continued to be that through the whole entertainment, delighting everybody's eye and ear. Winthrop laughed at his brother and with him, but himself played a very quiet part; putting in now and then a word that told, but doing it rarely and carelessly; the flow and freshness of the conversation calling for no particular help from him.
Mr. Herder was there; also Mr. Satterthwaite, who sat next to Winthrop and addressed several confidential and very unimportant remarks to him, and seemed to look upon his brother as a sort of meteoric phenomenon. President Darcy, of Mr. Herder's College, was the only other guest. Elizabeth sat next to Winthrop, but after the first formal greeting vouchsafed not a single look his way; she was in a dignified mood for all the company generally, and Rose's were the only feminine words that mixed with the talk during dinner. Very feminine they were, if that word implies a want of strength; but coming from such rosy lips, set round about with such smiles of winningness, they won their way and made easy entrance into all the ears at table. With the trifling exception of a pair or two.
"What is the matter with you?" said Rose, when she and her cousin 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 Elizabeth contemptuously. "I never want my words to be lost on the outside 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 pouting lips and brimful eyes upon the full view of the fire.
"What's made you so cross?" she said after a quarter of an hour, 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 too amusing."
"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 care for?"
"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 quarter of an hour.
The gentlemen came in then, one after another, but Elizabeth did not move from her window.
"I have something of yours in my possession, Miss Haye," said Rufus, coming to the outside of the curtain within which she stood.
"What?" said Elizabeth unceremoniously.
"Your father."
"What are you going to do with him?"
Rufus laughed a little; and Winthrop remarked there was nothing like straightforward dealing to confound a manoeuvrer.
"I have a desire to put him out of my hands, into yours," said Rufus; — "but then, I have also a desire to make him fast there."
"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 your napkin."
Elizabeth stretched out her hand for it.
"Not so fast — I have it in my possession, as I told you, and I claim a reward for recovering it from its ignoble condition."
"I shall set my own conditions then," said Elizabeth. "I will let anybody put it on, who will do me the pleasure to explain it first."
"Explain?" said Rufus, looking in a sort of comical doubt at the cameo; — "I see the features of Mr. Haye, which never need explanation to me."
"Not in nature; but do you understand them when they look so brown 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 know about this cameo, for I confess I don't."
"And I confess I don't," said Rufus. "I didn't even know it had any other name but Mr. Haye."
"What's all this?" said Rose, — "what are you talking about here?"
"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 of eggs, and there must be a good deal of reason before this bracelet 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? Do leave the cameos, and come over here and sit down and talk and be comfortable!"
"It's impossible for me to be comfortable," said Rufus. "I've got Mr. Haye on my hands and I don't know what to do with him."
"Mr. Herder!" — Rose called out to him, — "do come here and tell us about cameos, that we can sit down and be comfortable."
Very good-humouredly the naturalist left Mr. Haye and came to them, and presently was deep in quartz and silica, and onyx and chalcedony, and all manner of stones that are precious. He told all that Elizabeth wanted to know, and much more than she had dreamed of knowing. Even Rose listened; and Rufus was eagerly attentive; and Elizabeth after she had asked questions as far as her knowledge allowed her to push them, sighed and wished 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 that he knows little."
"Is that your opinion of yourself, Mr. Herder?" said Rufus.
"Certainly. I do know very little; — I will know more, I hope."
"O Mr. Herder, you know enough," said Rose. "I shouldn't think you would want to study any more."
"If I was to say, I know enough, — that would be to say that I do not know nozing at all."
"Mr. Winthrop, you don't seem as interested as the rest of us," said Elizabeth, perhaps with a little curiosity; for he had stood quietly by, letting even Mr. Satterthwaite push himself 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 his writings, he comes and gets rested wiz my stones and my preparations. If you will come there, Miss Elisabet', I will shew you crystals of quartz, and onyx, and all the kinds of chalcedony, 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 everything very much?"
"I love you very much, Miss Rose," said the naturalist, turning his good-humoured handsome face full upon her, — "I do not know about everyzing."
"No, but I mean all animals and insects, and everything that lives?"
"I do not love everyzing that lives," said the naturalist smiling. "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 very much — animals, and such things? You have so much to do with them."
"No — I have no love to spare for animals," he said with a grave face.
"Don't you love birds and animals, that you are always after and busy with?"
"No," said the naturalist, — "I do not love them — I love what is back of all that — not the animals. I keep my love for men."
"Do you think you have any more in that direction, for keeping it from the others?" said Elizabeth.
"I do not understand —"
"Do you think you love men any better because you don't give animals any love at all?"
"I do love some animals," said Mr. Herder. "I had a horse once, when I lived in Germany, that I did love. I loved him so well, that when a man did insult my horse, I made him fight me."
Rose exclaimed; Elizabeth smiled significantly; and Winthrop remarked,
"So that's the way your love for men shews itself!"
"No," said the naturalist, — "no, — I never did ask a man to meet 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 do such a thing."
"Everybody fight in Germany," said the naturalist; "they all fight at the Universités — they must fight. I found the only way was to make myself so good swordsman that I should be safe."
"And have you fought many duels?" said Elizabeth.
"Yes — I have fought — I have been obliged by circumstances to fight 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 only thing to do was to excel ozers; so as in ozer things, I did in this."
"But how came you, who love men so well, to have so much to do with hurting them, Mr. Herder?"
"You cannot help it, Miss Elisabet'," said the naturalist. "They fight for nozing — they fight for nozing. I never asked one, but I have been oblige to fight a good many. The students make themselves into clubs; and the way is, when two students of different clubs, get in a quarrel, their presidents must fight it out; — so they meet people in duels that they have never spoken to, nor seen. I will give you an instance. — One of these fellows — a great fighter — he had fought perhaps forty times, — he was bragging about it; 'he had fought such one and such one,' he said; — 'perhaps he ought to have fought Herder, in order to say that he was the best man with the sword of all the German students, — perhaps he ought to have met Herder, but he didn't care about it!' And a young fellow that heard him, that was by, he took it up; 'Sir,' said he, 'Herder is my friend — you must fight him — come to my room to-morrow morning at seven o'clock — he will meet you;' — 'very well,' they agree upon the matter togezer. The next morning he come bouncing into my room at a quarter after seven — 'Herder! Herder! come on! — Lessing is waiting to fight you in my room.' — 'What is the matter?' — 'O, Lessing said so and so, and I told him you would fight him at seven, and it is a quarter past' — 'Well, you tell him I didn't know of this, I am not keeping him waiting; I will come directly.' — I was not up. So I got myself dressed, and in ten minutes I was there. A duel 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 who stood there, that I would not touch him unless he touched me; and then I would give it to him in the ribs. I received ten blows on my arm, which is covered wiz a long glove; the eleven, he cut my waistcoat — I had one blow left, and I gave it to him in the ribs so long —"
Mr. Herder's words were filled out by the position of his fore fingers, which at this juncture were held some seven or eight inches apart.
"O Mr. Herder! — did you kill him!" exclaimed Rose.
"Not at all — I did not kill him — he was very good friend of mine, — 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 if they 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 punishment for being found out, is eight years in the fortress; — at ozer places, four or five years; — yet they will fight."
"How many Universities have you been in, Mr. Herder?" said
Rose.
"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. I was 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, but a philosopher."
"That is too great an honour for me, — I am not young and gallant enough — I shall depute you," — said Mr. Herder putting 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, with a face a little blank, clasped it on for herself. Rufus looked somewhat curious and somewhat amused.
"I am afraid you will say of my brother, Miss Haye, that though certainly young enough, he is not very gallant," he said.
Elizabeth gave no answer to this speech, nor sign of hearing, unless it might be gathered from the cool free air with which she made her way out of the group and left them at the window. She joined herself to President Darcy, at the other side of the fire, and engaged him in talk with her about different gems and the engraving of them, so earnestly that she had no eyes nor ears for anybody else. And when any of the gentlemen brought her refreshments, she took or refused them almost without acknowledgment, and always without lifting her eyes to see to whom it might be due.
The company were all gone, and a little pause, of rest or of musing, had followed the last spoken 'good night.' It was musing on Elizabeth's part; for she broke it with,
"Father, if you can give Mr. Landholm aid in any way, I hope you will."
"My dear," said her father, "I don't know what I can do. I did offer to set him a going in business, but he don't like my line; and I have nothing to do with his, away up in the North there 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 of his 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 way that 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 much means 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 he paid 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 see him struggling, I will try what I can do."
"Oh father! —"
"Why should Winthrop Landholm be helped," said Rose, "more than all the other young men who are studying in the city?"
"Because I know him," said Elizabeth, "and don't happen to know the others. And because I like him."
"I like him too," said her father yawning, "but I don't know anything very remarkable about him. I like his brother the best."
"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 I were 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 his profession," said Mr. Haye. "I don't know what else you can do. Or you can use your influence with Mr. Satterthwaite to get his father to employ him."
"You and he may both be very glad to do it yet," said
Elizabeth. "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 say there was nobody within hearing worthy of her words.
Rufus went back to his work in the mountains, and Winthrop struggled on; if most diligent and unsparing toil, and patient denying himself of necessary and wished-for things, were struggling. It was all his spare time could do to make clear the way for the hours given to his profession. There was little leisure for rest, and he had no means to bestow on pleasure; and that is a very favourable stating of the case as far as regards the last item. Mr. Inchbald never asked for rent, and never had it; not in those days. That the time would come, Winthrop believed; and his kind host never troubled himself to inquire.
There were pleasures, however, that Winthrop could not buy and which were very freely his. Mr. Herder's friendship introduced him to society, some of the best worth to be found, and which opened itself circle after circle to let him in. He had the freedom of President Darcy's house, and of Mr. Haye's, where he met other sets; in all, covering the whole ground of Mannahatta good society; and in all which Winthrop could not but know he was gladly seen. He had means and facilities for social enjoyment, more, by many, than he chose to avail himself of; facilities that did not lack temptation. In Mr. Herder's set, Winthrop often was found; other houses in the city saw him but rarely.
There was an exception, — he was often at Mr. Haye's; why, it did not very plainly appear. He was certainly made welcome by the family, but so he was by plenty of other families; and the house had not a more pleasant set of familiars than several other houses could boast. Mr. Haye had no sort of objection to giving him so much countenance and encouragement; and Rose kept all her coldness and doubtful speeches for other times than those when he was near. Elizabeth held very much her old manner; in general chose to have little to do with him; either haughtily or carelessly distant, it might be taken for one or the other. Though which it might be taken for, seemed to give no more concern to the gentleman in question than it did to herself.
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 of Winthrop's being in Mannahatta, — he went to solace himself with a walk out of town. It was a long and grave and thoughtful walk; so that Mr. Landholm really had very little good of the bright summer light upon the grass and trees. Furthermore, he did not even find it out when this light was curtained in the west with a thick cloud, which straightway became gilt and silver-edged in a marvellous and splendid degree. The cloud of thought was thicker than that, if not quite so brilliant; and it was not until low growls of thunder began to salute his ear, that he looked up and found the silver edge fast mounting to the zenith and the curtain drawing its folds all around over the clear blue sky. His next look was earthward, for a shelter; for at the rate that chariot of the storm was travelling he knew he had not many minutes to seek one before the storm would be upon him. Happily a blacksmith's shop, that he would certainly have passed without seeing it, stood at a little distance; and Winthrop thankfully made for it. He found it deserted; and secure of a refuge, took his place at the door to watch the face of things; for though the edge of the town was near, the storm was nearer, and it would not do to run for it. The blackness covered everything now, changing to lurid light in the storm quarter, and big scattered drops began to come plashing down. This time Winthrop's mind was so much in the clouds that he did not know what was going on in the earth; for while he stood looking and gazing, two ladies almost ran over him. Winthrop's senses came back to the door of the blacksmith's shop, and the ladies recovered themselves.