More care, or an evener way, brought them at last, without further mishap, to Diamond St., and along Diamond St. to Mr. Forriner’s house and store.  Both in the same building; large and handsome enough, at least as large and handsome as its neighbours; the store taking the front of the ground floor.  Mr. Forriner stood in the doorway taking a look at the day, which probably he thought promised him little custom; for his face was very much the colour of the weather.

Winthrop stopped the wheelbarrow before the house; went up and named his name.

“Winthrop Landholm!” —­ the touch of Mr. Forriner’s hand said nothing at all unless it were in the negative; —­ “how d’ye do, sir.  Come to make a visit in Mannahatta?”

“No, sir.  I have come here to stay.”

“Ah! —­ hum.  Sister well?”

“Very well, sir.”

“Left home yesterday?”

“No sir —­ three days ago.”

“Ah? where have you been?”

“In bed, sir —­ caught cold in the rain Tuesday.”

“Tuesday! —­ yes, it did rain considerable all along Tuesday. 
Where were you?”

“By the way, sir.”

“Just got here, eh? —­ bad time.”

“I could not wait for a good one.”

“What are you calculating to do here?”

“Study law, sir.”

“Law! —­ hum.  Do you expect to make money by that?”

“If I don’t, I am afraid I shall not make money by anything,” said Winthrop.

“Hum! —­ I guess there aint much money made by the law,” said Mr. Forriner taking a pinch of snuff.  “It’s a good trade to starve by.  How long have you to study?”

“All the time I have to live, sir.”

“Eh? —­ and how do you expect to live in the meantime?”

“I shall manage to live as long as I study.”

“Well I hope you will —­ I hope you will,” said Mr. Forriner.  “You’ll come in and take breakfast with us?”

“If you will allow me, sir.”

“You haven’t had breakfast yet?”

“No sir, nor supper.”

“Well, I guess wife’s got enough for you.  If that’s your box you’d better get the man to help you in with it.  You can set it down here behind the door.”

“Is it the right place, sir?” inquired Michael as Winthrop came out to him.

“No” said Winthrop.  “But you may help me in with the trunk.”

Michael was satisfied that he had the right money, and departed; and Winthrop followed Mr. Forriner through a narrow entry cut off from the store, to a little back room, which was the first of the domestic premises.  Here stood a table, and Mrs. Forriner; a hard-featured lady, in a muslin cap likewise hard-featured; there was a “not-give-in” look, very marked, in both, cap and lady.  A look that Winthrop recognized at once, and which her husband seemed to have recognized a great while.

“Mrs. Forriner!” said that gentleman to his nephew.  “My dear, this is Cousin Winthrop Landholm —­ Orphah’s son.”