“Yes, because there I can get strength that isn’t my own, and that is better than yours, or anybody’s.”

“That’s true, Winnie; but what do you want so much strength for?” he said coolly.

She looked at him again, a look very hard indeed to bear.

“O I know, Winthrop,” she said; —­ “I want it. —­ I want it now for your going away.”

Her voice was a little checked, and again she leaned forward upon him, this time so as to hide her face.

Winthrop set down the nuts and drew her more close, and his lips kissed the little blue and white temple which was all of her face he could get at.

“It’s best I should go, Winnie,” he said.

“O I know you must.”

“I will have a house one of these days and you shall come and keep it for me.”

She sat up and shook away a tear or two, and laughed, but her speech was not as jocular as she meant it to be.

“What a funny housekeeper I should make!”

“The best in the world.  You shall study, and I will knit the socks.”

“O Governor!  What do you know about knitting socks?”

“I know who has knit mine ever since I have been at Shagarack.”

“Did mamma tell you?” said the child with a bright sharp glance.

“I found it out.”

“And were they all right?  Because I am going to keep on doing it, Governor.”

“Till you come to be my housekeeper.”

“I don’t believe that’ll ever be,” said Winifred.

“Why not?”

“It seems so funny, to think of your ever having a house in Mannahatta!”

“Will you come, Winnie?”

“O Governor! —­ I dont know,” she said, her face full of a world of uncertainties.

“What don’t you know?”

“I don’t know any thing; and you don’t.  O Governor” —­ and she flung her arms round his neck, and spoke words coined out of her heart, —­ “I wish you were a Christian! —­”

For a minute only he did not speak; and then he said calmly in her ear,

“I shall be —­ I mean to be one, Winnie.”

Her little head lay very still and silent a few minutes more; and when she lifted it she did not carry on the subject; unless the kisses she gave him, only too strong in their meaning, might be interpreted.

“I should feel so much better if you knew somebody in Mannahatta,” she said presently.

“I do.  I know Mr. Herder.”

“O yes; but I mean more than that; somebody where you could stay and be nice.”

“I shall not stay where I cannot be nice.”

“I know that,” said Winifred; “but you don’t know anywhere to go, do you?”

“Yes.  Uncle Forriner’s.”

“Uncle Forriner. —­ You don’t know him, do you?”

“Not yet.”

“Did you ever see him?”

“No.”

“Maybe you won’t like him.”

“Then it will matter the less about his liking me.”