Chapter II

An't be any way, it must be with valour; for Policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a politician. TWELFTH NIGHT.

The family at No. 11 on the Parade, were seated at breakfast one morning towards the latter end of May; the old trio, only with Elizabeth and Rose in each other's places.

"What is the reason Winthrop Landholm don't come here any more?" said the latter lady.

"I don't know," said Mr. Haye, when the silence had threatened the failure of any answer at all.

"What's the reason, Lizzie?"

"I don't know! -- how should I?"

"I am sure I can't tell," said Rose, "but I didn't know but you did. I wish you'd ask him to come again, Mr. Haye -- do you know how he is getting up in the world?"

"I know how cotton is falling," said Mr. Haye, swallowing his tea and the newspaper apparently both at the same time.

"Cotton! --" said Rose. "Now Mr. Haye, just put down that paper and listen to me; -- do you know how Winthrop Landholm is holding his head up?"

"No," said Mr. Haye, looking at the pretty little head which was holding itself up, over against him.

"Well, he is. You didn't hear what Mr. Satterthwaite was saying about him last night, did you?"

"I didn't hear Mr. Satterthwaite say anything."

"Well he says he's had quite a great cause come on, now, just a few days ago --"

"Who has? Mr. Satterthwaite?"

"Why no, Mr. Haye! -- of course! -- I mean Mr. Landholm has -- a cause that he was to argue, you know -- that's what I mean -- before Chancellor Justice -- and Mr. Satterthwaite says he did it splendidly! -- he said everybody stood and looked; -- and the Chancellor gave him everything he asked for -- made all his exceptions, he said, whatever that means --"

"_Allowed_ his exceptions," said Elizabeth.

"O you could listen when Mr. Satterthwaite was speaking of Winthrop Landholm!"

"Mr. Satterthwaite don't often have so good a subject. I listened certainly, and was very much interested; -- the only time I ever remember Mr. Satterthwaite's saying anything I cared to hear."

"Well, now, Mr. Haye, why isn't it just as well to say '_made_ an exception,' as '_allowed_ an exception'? I don't think 'allowed an exception' is good English."

"It is good law English, I suppose, Rose."

"Well, I don't care -- at any rate, he said the Chancellor allowed every one of Mr. Landholm's exceptions, -- suppose _you_ understand it; -- and wouldn't allow a single thing to Mr. Brick; and Mr. Brick was the lawyer on the other side; and Mr. Satterthwaite said it was a great triumph for Mr. Landholm."

"Dustus O. Brick?" said Mr. Haye.

"Yes," said Elizabeth.

"I don't know," said Rose; "he said Mr. Brick, -- or the noted Mr. Brick -- I suppose that's the man."

"Dustus O. Brick!" said Mr. Haye -- "he's one of the best men in the bar, and a very clever man too; a distinguished lawyer; there's no one more thought of."

"That's what Mr. Satterthwaite said, -- he said so, -- he said it was a great triumph for Mr. Landholm; -- and now Mr. Haye, _won't_ you ask him to come here again as he used to?"

"Who?"

"Winthrop Landholm."

"What for?"

"Why I want to _see_ him -- and so do you, Mr. Haye. Now Mr. Haye, won't you? -- Though I don't know but Elizabeth would be the best one to ask him."

"Why?" dryly said the master of the house.

"I guess he'd be more likely to come."

"If I thought so, and it were my part to do it, I certainly should ask him," said Elizabeth. "There isn't any person so pleasant as he to take his place, among all that come here."

"You were glad of what Mr. Satterthwaite told us last night weren't you?" said Rose with a sinister smile.

"Very glad!"

"Did you ever hear Mr. Satterthwaite go on so about anybody? One would have thought Mr. Landholm was his own brother. I wonder if that was for your sake, Lizzie?"

"I presume it was for his own sake," said Elizabeth. "I should think anybody who had the privilege of being Mr. Landholm's friend, would know how to value it."

"_You_ would value it, for instance, I suppose?"

"I have no doubt I should."

"It seems to me you are a little too sure of valuing it," said Mr. Haye, -- "for a young lady who has _not_ that privilege."

Elizabeth's cheeks burned on the instant, but her eye was steady, and it looked full on her father while she asked him,

"Why, sir?"

"It is not worth while for you to like other people faster than they like you?"

"Why not?" -- said Elizabeth, her cheek and eye both deepening in their fire, but her look as steady and full, -- "Why not? -- if it should happen that I am less likeable than they?"

"Pshaw!" said Mr. Haye.

"If I were to gauge the respect and esteem I give others, by the respect and esteem they might be able to give me, -- I should cut off maybe the best pleasures of my life."

"Are respect and esteem the best pleasures of your life?" said Rose satirically.

"I have never known any superior to them," said Elizabeth. But she brought, as she spoke, her eye of fire to bear upon her cousin, who gave way before it and was mum.

"And what may respect and esteem lead to?" said Mr. Haye.

"I don't know," said Elizabeth. "And I don't care -- even to ask."

"Suppose they are not returned?"

"I have supposed that in the first place," she answered.

"At that rate you might be over head and ears in your regard for several people at once, none of whom cared a straw for you," said Mr. Haye.

"When I find _several_, men or women, that deserve the sort of respect and esteem I am talking of," said Elizabeth -- "I am not talking of a common kind, that you can give common people -- I shall be in a new world!"

"And have you this sort of 'respect and esteem' for Mr. Winthrop Landholm?" said her father.

"That's another question," said Elizabeth, for the first time dropping her eye and speaking more quietly; -- "I was talking of the general principle."

"And I am asking of the particular instance. Have you this respect and esteem for this particular person of your acquaintance?"

"I never gave it to many people in my life," said Elizabeth, colouring again somewhat. "He has as fair a share of it as most have."

"A little more?" said Mr. Haye smiling.

This time the answer she flashed at him was of proud and indignant bar to any further questioning -- with her eyes only; her lips did not move.

"Does he know it, Elizabeth?"

"Know what, sir?"

"This favour you have expressed for him."

"I have expressed nothing but what I would express for any one to whom I thought it due."

"But I ask, does he know it?"

"I feel injured, father, by your asking me such questions! -- I presume he does not know, since he has not had the honour of being told!"

The air with which this was given was regal.

"I wouldn't tell him, Lizzie," said her father quietly.

But at the insinuation conveyed in these words, Elizabeth's mood took another turn.

"I will tell whomsoever it may concern to know, at any time when I see occasion," she answered. "It is not a thing to be ashamed of; and I will neither do nor think anything I am unwilling to own."

"You had better reform public opinion in the first place," said Mr. Haye dryly.

"Why?" she said with startling quickness.

"It is apt to hold rather light of young ladies who tell their minds without being asked."

"How can you speak so, father! -- I said, _when I saw occasion_ -- it seems I have very much misjudged in the present instance."

"And as that might happen again," said Mr. Haye, "it is just as safe, on the whole, that the person in question does not come here any more. I am glad that I have advertised his place for sale."

"_What!_" exclaimed Elizabeth and Rose both at once.

"Hush -- don't fire at a man in that way. His father's place, I should say."

"_What_ have you done to it?" said Elizabeth.

"Advertised it for sale. You don't hear me as well as you do Mr. Satterthwaite, it seems."

"How come you to have it to sell?"

"Because it was mortgaged to me -- years ago -- and I can't get either principal or interest; so I am taking the best way I can to secure my rights."

"But Mr. Landholm was your friend?"

"Certainly -- but I am a better friend to myself. Can't do business with your friends on different principles from those you go upon with other people, Lizzie."

Elizabeth looked at him, with eyes that would have annihilated a large portion of Mr. Haye's principles, if they had been sentient things. Rose began a running fire of entreaties that _he_ would have nothing to do with Shahweetah, for that she could not bear the place. Elizabeth brought her eyes back to her plate, but probably she still saw Mr. Haye there, for the expression of them did not change.

"_I'm_ not going to have anything to do with the place, Rose," said Mr. Haye -- "further than to get it off my hands. I don't want to live there any more than you do. All I want to do is to pay myself."

"Father," said Elizabeth looking up quietly, "_I'll_ buy it of you."

"_You!_" said Mr. Haye, -- while Rose went off into a succession of soft laughs.

"Do you care who does it, so that you get the money?"

"No, -- but what will you do with it?"

"Find a way, in time, of conveying it back to its right owners," said Rose. "Don't you see, Mr. Haye?"

Elizabeth favoured her with a look which effectually spiked that little gun, for the time, and turned her attention again to her father.

"Do you care who buys it of you, so that you get the money?"

"Why, no -- but you don't want such a piece of property, Lizzie."

"I want just such a piece of property."

"But my child, you can't manage it. It would be an absurd spending of _your_ money. There's a farm of two or three hundred acres -- more, -- besides woodland. What could you do with it?"

"Trust me to take care of my own. May I have it, father?"

"Mr. Haye! --" Rose put in, pouting and whimpering, -- "I wish you'd tell Lizzie she's not to look at me so! --"

"Will you sell it to me?" pursued Elizabeth.

"If you'll promise it shall not go back to the original owners in any such way as Rose hinted."

"Are those your terms of sale?" said Elizabeth. "Because, though I may not choose to submit myself to them, I can find you another purchaser."

"What do you want of a great piece of land like that?"

"Nothing; I want the land itself."

"You can't do anything with it."

"It don't signify, if it all grows up to nettles!" said Elizabeth. "Will you take the money of me and let me take the land of you?"

"Hum --" said Mr. Haye, -- "I think you have enlightened me too much this morning. No -- I'll find a more disinterested purchaser; and let it teach you to take care of your eyes as well as your tongue."

Rose bridled. Mr. Haye got up leisurely from the breakfast- table and was proceeding slowly to the door, when his path was crossed by his daughter. She stood still before him.

He might well tell her to take care of her eyes. They glowed in their sockets as she confronted him, while her cheek was as blanched as a fire at the heart could leave it. Mr. Haye was absolutely startled and stood as still as she.

"Father," she said, "take care how you drive me too far! You have had some place in my heart, but I warn you it is in danger. -- If you care for it, I warn you! -- "

She was gone, like a flash; and Mr. Haye after casting a sort of scared look behind him at his wife, went off too; probably thinking he had got enough for one morning.

No doubt Elizabeth felt so for her part. She had gone to her own room, where she put herself on a low seat by the window and sat with labouring breath and heaving bosom, and the fire in her heart and in her eyes glowing still, though she looked now as if it were more likely to consume herself than anybody else. If herself was not present to her thoughts, they were busy with nothing then present; but the fire burned.

While she sat there, Clam came in, now one of the smartest of gay-turbaned handmaidens, and began an elaborate dusting of the apartment. She began at the door, and by the time she had worked round to Elizabeth at the window, she had made by many times a more careful survey of her mistress than of any piece of furniture in the room. Elizabeth's head had drooped; and her eyes were looking, not vacantly, but with no object in view, out of the window.

"I guess you want my friend here just now, Miss 'Lizabeth," said Clam, her lips parting just enough to show the line of white between them.

"Whom do you mean by your friend?"

"O -- Governor Landholm, to be sure -- he used to fix everybody straight whenever he come home to Wuttle Quttle."

Elizabeth passed over the implication that she wanted 'fixing,' and asked, "How? --"

"_I_ don' know. He used to put 'em all in order, in less'n no time," said Clam, going over and over the dressing-table with her duster, as that piece of furniture kept her near her mistress. "Mis' Landholm used to get her face straight the minute his two feet sounded outside the house, and she'd keep it up as long as he stayed; and Winifred stopped to be queer and behaved like a Christian; and nobody else in the house hadn't a chance to take airs but himself."

"What sort of airs did _he_ take?" said Elizabeth.

"O I don' know," said Clam; -- "_his_ sort; -- they wa'n't like nobody else's sort."

"But what do you mean by airs?"

"Can't tell," said Clam, -- "nothin' like yours, Miss 'Lizabeth, -- I take a notion to wish he was here, once in a while -- it wouldn't do some folks no harm."

"Didn't his coming put you in order too?"

Clam gave a little toss of her head, infinitely knowing and satisfied at the same time, and once more and more broadly shewed the white ivory between her not unpretty parted teeth.

"I think you want putting in order now," said her mistress.

"Always did," said Clam with a slight arch of her eyebrows, -- "always shall. Best get him to manage it, Miss 'Lizabeth -- he can do it quicker'n anybody else -- for me, -- and I dare say he would for you."

"I don't believe you ever were put in order," said Elizabeth, -- "to stay."

"I didn't use to do a wrong thing as long as he was in the house!" said Clam. "Didn't want to. -- You wouldn't neither, if you was in the house with him."

"What do you mean by Mrs. Landholm's getting her face straight when he came? -- was'nt it always so?"

"'Twa'n't always _so_," said Clam, -- "for when he come, half the wrinkles went away, and the grey hairs all turned black again."

There came such a pang to Elizabeth's heart, such a gush to her eyes, that she hid her face on her knees and heard nothing of what her handmaid said for a long time after. If Clam talked, she had the talk all to herself; and when Elizabeth at last raised her head, her handmaiden was standing on the other side of the fireplace looking at her, and probably making up her mind that she wanted 'fixing' very much. There was no further discussion of the subject, however; for Miss Haye immediately called for her bonnet and veil, wrapped herself in a light scarf and went out. The door had hardly closed upon her when the bell rang again, and she came running up-stairs to her room.

"Clam, get me the newspaper."

"What news, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"All the newspapers -- every one you can find; -- yesterday's and to-day's, or the day before."

Much wondering, Clam hunted the house and brought the fruits of her search; and much more wondering, she saw her mistress spend one hour in closely poring over the columns of page after page; she who never took five minutes a day to read the papers. At last a little bit was carefully cut from one of those Clam had brought up, and Elizabeth again prepared herself to go forth.

"If it had been Mr. Winthrop, now, who was doing that," said Clam, "he'd have took off his hat most likely, and sat down to it. How you do look, Miss 'Lizabeth!"

"Mr. Winthrop and I are two different people," said Elizabeth, hurriedly putting on the one glove she had drawn off.

"Must grow a little more like before you'll be one and the same," observed Clam.

Elizabeth let down her veil over her face and went out again.

With a quick nervous step she went, though the day was warm, making no delay and suffering no interruption; till she reached the University where Professor Herder made his daily and nightly abode. The professor was attending one of his classes. Elizabeth asked to be shewn to his room.

She felt as if she was on a queer errand, as she followed her conductor up the wide stone stairs and along the broad corridors, where the marks were evidently of only man's use and habitation, and now and then a man's whistle or footstep echoed from the distance through the halls. But she went on swiftly, from one corridor to another, till the guide opened a door and she stepped out from the public haunts of life to a bit of quite seclusion.

It was a pleasant enough place that Mr. Herder called home. A large, airy, light, high-ceiled apartment, where plainly even to a stranger's eye, the naturalist had grouped and bestowed around him all the things he best liked to live among. Enormous glass cases, filled with the illustrations of science, and not less of the philosopher's investigating patience, lined all the room; except where dark-filled shelves of books ran up between them from the floor to the ceiling. A pleasant cloth-covered table, with books and philosophical instruments, stood towards one side of the room, a little table with a lamp at the other; and scattered about, all over, were big stout comfortable well-worn leather arm-chairs, that said study and learning sat easy there and often received visits of pleasure in that room. Elizabeth felt herself as little akin to pleasure as to learning or study, just then. She put herself in one of the great leather chairs, with a sense of being out of her element -- a little piece of busy, bustling, practical life, within the very palings of science and wisdom.

She sat and waited. But that pulse of busy life beat never the cooler for all the cool aspect of the place and the grave shade of wisdom that lingered there; nay, it throbbed faster and more flutteringly. She got up to try the power of distraction the glass cases might hold; but her eye roved restlessly and carelessly over object and object of interest that withheld its interest from her; and weariedly she went back to her arm-chair and covered her face with her hands, that her mind might be at least uninterruptedly busy in its own way.

It must have been very busy, or the quick little step of the German professor must have been very soft withal; for he had come within a few feet of her before he knew who she was or she knew that he was there.

"Miss Elisabet'!" he exclaimed with a most good-humoured face of wonderment, -- "I never was so honoured before! How did you get in my arm-chair?"

Elizabeth jumped up and shook hands with him, laughing in very relief to see him come.

"How did I get here? -- I came up through the sun, Mr. Herder."

"I have asked you to come in better time," said the naturalist, -- "that is, better for you -- dis is very good time for me. I have nozing to do, and I will give you lesson in whatever you want."

"No sir, -- I am come to give _you_ a lesson, Mr. Herder."

"_Me?_ Well, I will take it," said the naturalist, who began at the same time to run about his room and open closet doors and jingle glasses together, apparently on his own business, -- "I like always to take lessons, -- it is not often that I have such a teacher. I will learn the best I can -- after I have got you some lemonade. I have two lemons here, -- somevere, -- ah! -- "

"I don't want it, Mr. Herder."

"I cannot learn nozing till you have had it," said Mr. Herder bringing his lemons and glasses to the table; -- "that sun is beating my head what was beating yours, and it cannot think of nozing till I have had something to cool him off. --"

Elizabeth sat still, and looked, and thought, with her heart beating.

"I did not know what was in my room when I see you in my chair wiz your head down -- you must be study more hard than me, Miss Elisabet' -- I never put my head down, for nozing."

"Nor your heart either, I wonder?" thought Elizabeth.

"I _was_ studying, Mr. Herder, -- pretty hard."

"Is that what you are going to give me to study?" said the naturalist.

"Not exactly -- it was something about it. I want you to do something for me, Mr. Herder, -- if I may ask you, -- and if you will be so very kind as to take some trouble for me."

"I do not like trouble," said the naturalist shaking his head good-humouredly over a squeeze of his lemon; -- "dere is no use in having trouble -- I get out of it so soon as I can -- but I will get in it wiz pleasure for you, Miss Elisabet' -- what you tell me -- if you will tell me if that is too much sucker."

"To take trouble, and to be _in_ trouble, are not quite the same thing, Mr. Herder," said Elizabeth, having at the moment a vivid realization of the difference.

"I thought trouble was trouble," said the naturalist, finishing the preparing his own glass of lemonade. "If you will lesson me to find trouble is no trouble -- Miss Elisabet' -- I will thank you much for that."

Elizabeth heartily wished anybody could teach her that particular lesson. She sipped her lemonade, slowly and abstractedly, busy yet with the study which Mr. Herder had broken off; while he talked benignly and kindly, to ears that did not hear. But the last of Elizabeth's glass was swallowed hastily and the glass set down.

"Mr. Herder, I have come to ask you to do something for me."

"I am honoured, Miss Elisabet'," said the philosopher bowing.

"Will you not speak of it to anybody?"

"Not speak of it!" said the naturalist. "Then it is a secret?"

The quick energetic little bend of Elizabeth's head said before her lips spoke the word, "Yes!"

"It is more honour yet," he said. "What am I to do, Miss Elisabet'?"

"Nothing, if it will be any real trouble to you, Mr. Herder. Promise me that first."

"Promise? -- what shall I promise?" said Mr. Herder.

"Promise me that if what I am going to ask would be any real trouble to you or to your business, you will tell me so."

"I do not love to be troubled," said the naturalist. "It shall not be no trouble to me."

"But promise me that you will tell me, Mr. Herder."

"Suppose you was to tell me first. I cannot tell nozing till I know."

"You will not speak of it to anybody, Mr. Herder?"

"I will not speak of nozing, Miss Elisabet'."

"Mr. Herder, there is a piece of land which I want to buy; and I have come to ask you, if you can, and if you will, to buy it for me."

"Miss Elisabet'," said the naturalist looking a little surprised at his fair questioner, -- "I will tell you the truth -- I have no money."

"I have, Mr. Herder. But I cannot go into the market and buy for myself."

"Cer-tain-ly, you cannot do that," said Mr. Herder. "But what is it you wish to buy?"

"It is a farm, --" said Elizabeth, feeling glad that her back was to the light; -- "it is a piece of land in the country -- up on the Shatemuc river. I think you have been there, Mr. Herder, -- it is the place where the Landholms' father lives. Wut-a-qut-o, they call it -- or Shahweetah; -- Wut-a-qut-o is the mountain opposite."

"Landholm!" cried the naturalist. "Is it Winthrop's place?"

Elizabeth bowed her head and answered, "His father's."

"Winthrop's place! Is _that_ what you want, Miss Elisabet'?"

Elizabeth bowed her head again, this time without answering.

"Suppose they might not want to sell it?" said the naturalist.

"They do not -- but they can't help themselves. It must be sold -- they can't pay money that is owing upon it."

"Money!" -- said the naturalist; -- "that is de trouble of all that is in the world. I wish there was no such thing as money! It makes all the mischief."

"Or the want of it," said Elizabeth.

"No!" said the naturalist, -- "it is not that! I have want money all my life, Miss Elisabet', and I have never got into no trouble at all."

"Except when you fought the duels, Mr. Herder."

"_Dat_ was not no trouble!" said the philosopher. "There was nozing about money there; and it was not no trouble, -- neizer before, neizer after."

"I have had money all my life; and it never made me any trouble."

"Ah, you have not come to the time," said Mr. Herder. "Wait, you will find it. Now you are in trouble because you want to buy this ground, and you could not do it wizout money."

"I can't do it with, unless you will help me, Mr. Herder -- you or somebody."

"I could get somebody," said Mr. Herder; -- "I know somebody what I could get."

"I don't know anybody who would be as good as you, sir."

"I do," said the naturalist. "Where is Mr. Haye? -- is he sick?"

"No sir, -- I don't wish him to know anything about it, Mr. Herder. -- He is the person making the sale."

"Your father? -- do you mean that Mr. Haye is the man what is selling the ground of Mr. Landholm?"

"Yes sir. And I wish to buy it."

"Then Miss Elisabet', what for do you not ask my friend Winthrop to buy it for you? He knows all business. He will do it."

"I cannot -- I have not the liberty -- He is not enough a friend of mine, for me to ask him such a favour."

"But Miss Elisabet', what will you do wiz all that large ground and water?"

"Buy it, -- first, sir; and then I will see. I want it."

"I see you do," said the naturalist. "Well, then I shall get it for you -- if I can -- I hope your money will not get _me_ in trouble."

"If you are at all afraid of that, Mr. Herder, I will find some other way --"

"I never was afraid of nozing in my life, Miss Elisabet' -- only I do not know neizer how to get money, neizer how to spend it -- in this way. What will Mr. Haye say to me when I go to buy all this great land of him? He will say --"

"You're not to buy it of him, Mr. Herder."

"No?" said the naturalist. "Of who, then? I thought you said he was going to sell it."

"Yes, he is -- but he has somebody else to do it for him. Here, Mr. Herder, -- here is the advertisement; -- see -- don't read the first part, -- all _that_ has nothing to do with it, -- here is the place. 'At the Merchant's Exchange, in the city of Mannahatta, on the first day of September, 1821, at 12 o'clock noon of that day' -- and then comes the description of the place. It is to be sold at public auction."

"Auc-sion? --" said the naturalist.

"It's to be sold in public, to whoever offers to give most for it."

"O, I know that," said Mr. Herder.

"And dear Mr. Herder, all I ask of you is to be there, at 12 o'clock the first of September, and buy it for me; and let nobody know. Can you do it?"

"I can do so much," said the naturalist. "I think I can. But suppose somebody will give more than you."

"Do not suppose that, sir. I will give more than anybody."

"Are you sure you will?" said the naturalist. "Maybe you do not know."

"I do know, sir, and am sure."

"Well," said the naturalist, shaking his head, -- "I do not know much about buying grounds -- I do know a leetle of some things -- but I do not know what sort of a lesson is this, Miss Elisabet'. But I will see if I can do it. Who is going to live up there wiz you?"

"Don't you suppose I can live alone, Mr. Herder."

"No, not there," said the naturalist. "You want some one to take care of you -- de engineer, Miss Elisabet'," said he smiling.

Elizabeth made no answer; she had risen up to go; and he guided her through the halls and down the staircases, till she was in the open street again. Then, after a farewell squeeze of his hand and nod of her little head, she pulled her veil down and went homeward, more slowly than she had come.

"_Do_ I want somebody to take care of me?" she thought. "I believe I do! An engineer? -- I do not think the engine _is_ under very good guidance -- it _is_ too strong for me -- How could he know that? Oh what earthly thing would I give, for a hand wise and strong enough to lead me, and good enough that I could submit myself to!"

The wish was so deep drawn that her breast heaved with it, and starting tears made her draw her veil thicker before them. She bit her lip, and once more quickened her steps towards home.