Chapter XXII

_Sir Toby_. Do not our lives consist of the four elements? _Sir And._ 'Faith, so they say, but, I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking. TWELFTH NIGHT.

"Dear, Mr. Winthrop, -- what makes all this smoke here?" exclaimed Mrs. Nettley one morning, as she opened the door of his attic.

"I suppose, the wind, Mrs. Nettley," said Winthrop looking up from the book he was studying.

"O dear! -- how do you manage?"

"I can't manage the smoke, Mrs. Nettley -- Its resources exceed mine."

"It's that chimney!" exclaimed the good lady, standing and eyeing it in a sort of desperate concern, as if she would willingly have gone up the flue herself, so that only she could thereby have secured the smoke's doing the same. "I always knew that chimney was bad -- I had it once a while myself -- I'm sorry you've got it now. What _do_ you do, Mr. Winthrop?"

"The smoke and I take turns in going out, Mrs. Nettley."

"Eh? -- Does it often come in so? Can't you help it?"

"It generally takes advice with the wind, not with me, ma'am."

"But the chimney might have better advice. I'll get George to fetch a doctor -- I had forgotten it was so bad, I had quite forgotten it, and you never say a word -- Mr. Landholm, you never come to see us."

"I have so much else to see," he said, glancing at his book.

"Yes, and that reminds me -- Have you heard the news?"

"I have heard none to-day."

"Then you heard it yesterday, -- of course you did; but I hear so little, when anything comes to me that's new I always think it must be new to everybody else. But of course _you_ must know it, as it is about friends of yours; I dare say you knew it long ago; -- though such things are kept close sometimes, even from friends; and I somehow was surprised to hear this, though I had no right to be, for I suppose I had no reason for my fancy. I think a good many things I have no reason for, George thinks. Maybe I do. I cant help it."

"But what is the thing in this case, Mrs. Nettley?" said Winthrop smiling.

"Why George told me -- don't you know? I was a little disappointed, Mr. Winthrop."

"Why?"

"Why, I had a fancy things were going another way."

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

"That's because I talk so ill -- It's this piece of news George brought home yesterday -- he was dining out, for a wonder, with this gentleman who is going to sit to him; I forget his name, -- Mr. -- I don't know what it is! -- but I am foolish to talk about it. Won't you come down and take a cup of tea with us to-night, Mr. Landholm? that's what I came up to ask, and not to stand interrupting you. But you've quite forgotten us lately."

"Thank you, Mrs. Nettley, I'll come with great pleasure -- on condition that you tell me your news."

"The news? O it's no news to you -- it's only this about Miss Haye."

"What about Miss Haye?"

"They say that she is going to get married, to a Mr. Cadwallader, George said. Her cousin I suppose; there is a cousinship of that name, isn't there, Mr. Landholm?"

Mr. Landholm bowed.

"And had you heard of it before?"

"No, I had not."

"And is it a good match? She is a fine girl, isn't she?"

"I know really nothing of the matter, Mrs. Nettley -- I have never seen the gentleman."

"Really! Haven't you? -- then it _was_ news," said the lady. "I thought you were accustomed to see them so often -- I didn't think I was telling you anything. George and I -- you must forgive us, Mr. Winthrop, people will have such thoughts; they will come in, and you cannot help it -- I don't know what's to keep 'em out, unless one could put bars and gates upon one's minds, and you can't well do that; -- but George and I used to have suspicions of you, Mr. Landholm. Well, I have interrupted you long enough. Dear! what windows! I'm ashamed. I'll send the girl up, the first chance you are out of the house. I told her to come up too; but she is heedless. I haven't been to see 'em myself in I don't know how many days; but you're always so terribly busy -- and now I've staid twice too long!" --

And away she hurried, softly closing the door after her.

Mr. Landholm's quiet study was remarkably quiet for a good while after she went out. No leaf of his book rustled over; not a foot of his chair grated on the floor, -- for though the floor did boast a bit of carpet, it lay not where he sat, by the window; and the coals and firebrands fell noiselessly down into the ashes and nobody was reminded that the fire would burn itself out in time if it was let alone. The morning light grew stronger, and the sunbeams that never got there till between nine and ten o'clock, walked into the room; and they found Winthrop Landholm with his elbow on the table and his head in his hand, where they often were; but with his eyes where they _not_ often were -- on the floor. The sunbeams said very softly that it was time to be at the office, but they said it very softly, and Winthrop did not hear them.

He heard however presently a footstep on the stair, in the next story at first, and then mounting the uppermost flight that led to the attic. A heavy brisk energetic footstep, -- not Mrs. Nettley's soft and slow tread, nor the more deliberate one of her brother. Winthrop listened a moment, and then as the last impatient creak of the boot stopped at his threshold he knew who would open the door. It was Rufus.

"_Here_ you are. Why I expected to find you at the office!" was the first cheery exclamation, after the brothers had clasped hands.

"What did you come here to find, then?" said Winthrop.

"Room for my carpet-bag, in the first place; and a pair of slippers, and comfort. It's stinging weather, Governor!"

"I know it. I came down the river the night before last."

"I shouldn't think you knew it, for you've let your fire go down confoundedly. Why Winthrop! there's hardly a spark here! What have you been thinking about?"

"I was kindling the fire, mentally," said Winthrop.

"Mentally! -- where's your kindling? -- I can tell you! -- if you had been out in this air you'd want some breath of material flame, before you could set any other agoing. And I am afraid _this_ isn't enough -- or won't be, -- I want some fuel for another sort of internal combustion -- some of my Scotchman's haggis."

And Rufus stopped to laugh, with a very funny face, in the midst of his piling chips and brands together.

"Haggis?" said Winthrop.

"Yes. -- There was a good fellow of a Scotchman in the stage with me last night -- he had the seat just behind me -- and he and a brother Scotchman were discoursing valiantly of old world things; warming themselves up with the recollection. -- Winthrop, have you got a bit of paper here? -- And I heard the word 'haggis' over and over again, --'haggis' and 'parritch.' At last I turned round gravely -- 'Pray sir,' said I, 'what _is_ a haggis?' 'Weel, sir,' said he good-humouredly, -- 'I don't just know the ingredients -- it's made of meal, -- and onions, I believe, --and other combustibles!!' -- Winthrop, have you got any breakfast in the house?"

"Not much in the combustible line, I am afraid," said Winthrop, putting up his books and going to the closet.

"Well if you can enact Mother Hubbard and 'give a poor dog a bone,' I shall be thankful, -- for anything."

"I am afraid hunger has perverted your memory," said Winthrop.

"How?"

"If the cupboard should play its part now, the dog would go without any."

"O you'll do better for me than that, I hope," said Rufus; "for I couldn't go on enacting the dog's part long; he took to laughing, if I remember, and I should be beyond that directly."

"Does that ever happen?" said Winthrop, as he brought out of the cupboard his bits of stores; a plate with the end of a loaf of bread, a little pitcher of milk, and another plate with some remains of cold beefsteak. For all reply, Rufus seized upon a piece of bread, to begin with, and thrusting a fork into the beefsteak, he held it in front of the just- burning firebrands. Winthrop stood looking on, while Rufus, the beefsteak, and the smoke, seemed mutually intent upon each other. It was a question of time, and patience; not to speak of fortitude.

"Winthrop," said Rufus changing hands with his fork, -- "have you any coffee?"

"No sir."

"Tea?"

"No."

"Out of both?"

"For some time."

"Do you live without it?"

"I live without it."

"Without either of them?"

"Without either of them."

"Then how in the world _do_ you live?" said Rufus turning his beefsteak in a very gingerly manner and not daring to take his eyes from it.

"Without combustibles -- as I told you."

"I should think so!" exclaimed his brother. "You are the coolest, toughest, most stubborn and unimpressible piece of sensibility, that ever lived in a garret and deserved to live -- somewhere else."

"Doubtful strain of commendation," said Winthrop. "What has brought you to Mannahatta?"

"But Winthrop, this is a new fancy of yours?"

"No, not very."

"How long since?"

"Since what?"

"Since you gave up all the good things of this life?"

"A man can only give up what he has," said Winthrop. "Those I delivered into your hands some ten minutes ago."

"But tea and coffee -- You used to drink them?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you?"

"For a variety of reasons, satisfactory to my own mind."

"And have you abjured butter too?"

"I am sorry, Will," said Winthrop smiling a little, -- "I will try to have some butter for you to-morrow."

"Don't you eat it in ordinary?"

"Always, when I can get it. What has brought you to Mannahatta?"

"What do you think?"

"Some rash scheme or resolution."

"Why?"

"From my judgment of your character, which might be stated as the converse of that just now so happily applied to me."

"And do natures the opposite of that never act otherwise than rashly?"

"I hope so; for as the coolest are sometimes excited, so the hot may be sometimes cool."

"And don't I look cool?"

"You did when you came in," said Winthrop.

"I should think living on bread and milk might help that, in ordinary," said Rufus. "Just in my present condition it has rather a different effect. Well Governor, I've come to Mannahatta --"

"I see that," said Winthrop.

"I'll thank you not to interrupt me. I've come to Mannahatta -- on a piece of business."

Winthrop waited, and Rufus after another cut of the bread and meat, went on.

"Governor, I'm going to quit engineering and take to another mode of making money."

"Have you done with your last piece of work at the West?"

"No -- I'm going back there to finish it. O, I'm going back there -- I've only come here now to sign some papers and make some arrangements; I shall come finally, I suppose, about May, or April. I've been corresponding with Haye lately."

"About what?"

"About this! What should I correspond with him about? By the way, what an infernal piece of folly this marriage is!"

"Not mixed up with your business, is it?"

"No, of course; how should it? but I am tremendously surprised. Aren't you?"

"People of my temperament never are, you know."

"People of your temperament -- have a corner for their thoughts," said Rufus. "Well, there's one chance gone for you, Governor."

"Which it does not appear that I ever had."

"No indeed, that's very true. Well, about my business. -- Haye has advocated my leaving the country and coming here. And he knows what he is about, Winthrop; he is a capital man of business. He says he can put me in a way of doing well for myself in a very short time here, and he recommended my coming."

"What's his object?" said Winthrop.

"What's his object?"

"Yes."

"How should I know! He wants to serve me, I suppose; and I believe he has kindliness enough for me, to be not unwilling to get me in the same place of business with himself."

"What will he do for you?"

"This, to begin with. He has a quantity of cotton lying in his stores, which he offers to make over to me, upon a certain valuation. And I shall ship it to Liverpool, as he recommends."

"Have you got your money from the North Lyttleton company?"

"No, nor from anybody else; -- not yet; but it's coming."

"Is this purchase of cotton to be executed immediately?"

"Immediately. That's what I have come down for."

"How are you to pay Mr. Haye?"

"By bills upon the consignees."

"Does the purchase swallow up all your means?"

"None of them," said Rufus impatiently. "I tell you, it is to be consummated by drawing bills in Haye's favour upon the consignees -- Fleet, Norton & Co."

"Suppose the consignment don't pay?"

"It _will_ pay, of course! Don't you suppose Haye knows what he is about?"

"Yes; but that don't satisfy me, unless I know it too."

"_I_ do," said Rufus. "He takes an interest in me for my father's sake; and I think I may say without vanity, for my own; and he is willing to do me a kindness, which he can do without hurting himself. That is all; and very simple."

"Too simple," said Winthrop.

"What do you mean?"

"What are you going to do when you come here?"

"Look after my in-comings; and I shall probably go into Haye's office and rub up my arithmetic in the earlier branches. What are _you_ going to do?"

"I am going to the office, -- Mr. De Wort's."

"What to do there, Governor?"

"Read, write, and record, law and lawpapers."

"Always at the same thing!"

"Always."

"Seems a slow way of getting ahead."

"It's sure," said Winthrop.

"_You_ are sure, I believe, of whatever you undertake. By the way -- have you undertaken the other adventure yet?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"The adventure we were talking about. -- The heiress."

"I can adventure nothing upon speculation," said Winthrop.

"Then you have not had a chance to carry out your favourite idea of obligation. Do you know, I never should have suspected you of having such an idea."

"Shews how much we go upon speculation even with our nearest friends," said Winthrop.

"And how speculation fails there as elsewhere. What a fool Haye has made of himself!"

"In what?"

"Why, in this match."

"What has he done?"

"Done! why he has done _it_. Enough, I should think. I wish his folly stood alone."

"How do you know he has done it?"

"He told me so himself. I met him as I came along just now; and he told me he was to be married to-morrow and would attend to my business next day."

"Told you _who_ would?"

"He. Himself. Haye."

"Told you he was to be married?"

"Yes. Who else?"

"To whom?"

"Why! -- to his niece -- ward -- what is she? Rose Cadwallader."

"_Mr._ Haye and Miss Cadwallader!" said Winthrop.

"To be sure. What are you thinking of? What have we been talking about?"

"You know best," said Winthrop. "My informant had brought another person upon the stage."

"Who?"

"A Mr. Cadwallader."

"There's no such thing as a Mr. Cadwallader. It's Haye himself; and it only shews how all a man's wisdom may be located in one quarter of his brain and leave the other empty."

"To-morrow?" said Winthrop.

"Yes; and you and I are invited to pay our respects at eleven. Haven't you had an invitation?"

"I don't know -- I have been out of town -- and for the present I must pay my respects in another direction. I must leave you, Will."

"Look here. What's the matter with you, Winthrop?"

"Nothing at all," said Winthrop facing round upon his brother.

"Well I believe there isn't," said Rufus, taking a prolonged look at him, -- "but somehow I was thinking -- You're a fine- looking fellow, Winthrop!"

"You'll find wood in the further end of the closet," said Winthrop smiling. "I am afraid Mother Hubbard's shelves are in classical order --that is, with nothing on them."

"I sha'n't want anything more till dinner," said Rufus. "Where do you dine?"

"At the chop-house to-day."

"I'll meet you there. Won't you be home till night?"

"I never am."

"Well --till dinner," said Rufus waving his hand. And his brother left him.

Turning away from the table and his emptied dishes and fragmentary beef-bone, Rufus sat before the little fireplace, gazing into it at the red coals, and taking casual and then wistful note of various things about his brother's apartment that told of the man that lived there.

"Spare!" -- said Rufus to himself, as his eye marked the scanty carpet, the unpainted few wooden chairs, the curtainless bed, the rough deal shelves of the closet which shewed at the open door, and the very economical chimney place, which now, the wind having gone down, did no longer smoke; -- "Spare! -- but he'll have a better place to live in, one of these days, and will furnish it." -- And visions of mahogany and of mirrors glanced across Rufus's imagination, how unlike the images around him and before his bodily eye. -- "Spare! -- poor fellow! -- he's working hard just now; but pay-time will come. And orderly, --just like him; his books piled in order on the window-sill -- his papers held down by one on the table, the clean floor, -- yes," -- and rising Rufus even went and looked into the closet. There was the little stack of wood and parcel of kindling, likewise in order; there stood Winthrop's broom in a corner; and there hung Winthrop's few clothes that were not folded away in his trunk. Mother Hubbard's department was in the same spare and thoroughly kept style; and Rufus came back thoughtfully to his seat before the fire.

"Like him, every bit of it, from the books to the broom. Like him; -- his own mind is just as free from dust or confusion; rather more richly furnished. What a mind it is! and what wealth he'll make out of it, for pocket and for name both. And I --"

Here Rufus's lucubrations left his brother and went off upon a sea of calculations, landing at Fleet, Norton & Co. and then coming back to Mannahatta and Mr. Haye's counting-room. He had plenty of time for them, as no business obviously could be done till the day after to-morrow.