“O yes, of course; but then I should think it would be lovely at all times.  Isn’t it a beautiful place, Mr. Herder?”

“Which place, Miss Rose?”

“Why, Mr. Landholm’s place, up the river, where we were that summer.  And how’s your mother, Mr. Landholm, and your sister? —­ so kind Mrs. Landholm is!  And have you left them entirely, Mr. Landholm?”

“I have brought all of myself away that I could,” he said with a smile.

“Don’t you wish yourself back there every day?”

“No.”

“Don’t you!  I should think you would.  How’s your brother, Mr. Landholm, and where is he?”

“He is well, and in the North yet.”

“Is he coming back to Mannahatta soon?”

“I have no reason to think so.”

“I wish he would.  I want to see him again.  He is such good company.”

“Mr. Wint’rop will do so well, Miss Rose,” said the naturalist.

“I dare say he will,” said Rose with a very sweet face.

“He won’t if he goes on as he has begun,” said Mr. Haye.  “I asked him to dine here the day after to-morrow, Rose.”

“He’ll come? —­”

But Mr. Landholm’s face said no, and said it with a cool certainty.

“Why, Mr. Landholm! —­”

“He is very —­ you cannot do nozing wiz him, Miss Rose,” said the naturalist.  “Miss Elisabet’! —­”

“Well, Mr. Herder?”

“I wish you would come over here and see what you can do.”

“About what, Mr. Herder?”

“Wiz Mr. Wint’rop here.”

“I just heard you say that nobody can do anything with him, Mr. Herder.”

“Here he has refuse to come to dinner wiz all of us.”

“If he can’t come for his own pleasure, I don’t suppose he would come for anybody else’s,” said Elizabeth.

She left her solitary chair however, and came up and stood behind Mr. Herder.

“He pleads business,” said Mr. Haye.

“Miss Elisabet’, we want your help,” said Mr. Herder.  “He is working too hard.”

“I am not supposed to know what that means, sir.”

“What?” said Mr. Haye.

“Working too hard.”

“Work!” said Mr. Haye.  “What do you know about work?”

“The personal experience of a life-time, sir,” said Winthrop gravely.  “Not much of the theory, but a good deal of the practice.”

“I’ll bear her witness of one thing,” said Mr. Haye; “if she can’t work herself, she can make work for other people.”

“You’ve got it, Lizzie,” said her cousin, clapping her hands.

“I don’t take it,” said Elizabeth.  “For whom do I make work, father?”

“For me, or whoever has the care of you.”

Elizabeth’s cheek burned now, and her eye too, with a fire which she strove to keep under.

“It’s not fair!” she exclaimed.  “If I make work for you, I am sure it is work that nobody takes up.”

“That’s true,” said her father laughing, —­ “it would be too much trouble to pretend to take it all up.”