“Very,” muttered Hannah.

“You were very well acquainted with him, were you not?”

“Yes.”

“You answer so shortly, Aunt Hannah.  Didn’t you like young Mr. Herman Brudenell?”

“I—­don’t know whether I did or not; but, Ishmael, I can’t scrub and talk at the same time.  Go out and chop me some wood; and then go and dig some potatoes, and beets, and cut a cabbage—­a white-head mind! and then go to the spring and bring a bucket of water; and make haste; but don’t talk to me any more, if you can help it.”

Ishmael went out immediately to obey, and as the sound of his ax was heard Hannah muttered to herself: 

“Herman Brudenell coming back to the Hall to live!” And she fell into deep thought.

Ishmael was intelligent enough to divine that his Aunt Hannah did not wish to talk of Mr. Herman Brudenell.

“Some old grudge, connected with their relations as landlord and tenant, I suppose,” said Ishmael to himself.  And as he chopped away at the wood he resolved to avoid in her presence the objectionable name.

The subject was not mentioned between the aunt and nephew again.  Ishmael assisted her in preparing their late afternoon meal of dinner and supper together, and then, when the room was made tidy and Hannah was seated at her evening sewing, Ishmael, for a treat, showed her his prize books; at which Hannah was so pleased, that she went to bed and dreamed that night that Ishmael had risen to the distinction of being a country schoolmaster.

The few days of mental rest that Mr. Middleton had enjoined upon the young student were passed by Ishmael in hard manual labor that did him good.  Among his labors, as he had now several valuable books, he fitted up some book shelves over the little low window of his loft, and under the window he fixed a sloping board, that would serve him for a writing-desk.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

UNDER THE OLD ELM TREE.

                    She was his life,
  The ocean to the river of his thoughts,
  Which terminated all; upon a tone,
  A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow,
  And his cheek change tempestuously—­his heart
  Unknowing of its cause of agony.

  —­Byron.

On Monday morning he resumed his attendance at Brudenell Hall.  He was received very kindly by the family, and permitted to go up to the empty schoolroom and take his choice among all the vacant seats, and to make the freest use of the school library, maps, globes, and instruments.

Ishmael moved his own desk up under one of the delightful windows, and there he sat day after day at hard study.  He did not trouble Mr. Middleton much; whenever it was possible to do so by any amount of labor and thought, he puzzled out all his problems and got over all his difficulties alone.

He kept up the old school hours; punctually, and exactly at noon, he laid aside his books and went out on the lawn for an hour’s recreation before lunch.