“O I don’t mean that Mr. Landholm —­ I mean the other.”

“Winthrop,” said Mr. Haye.

“Elizabeth likes him much the best,” said Miss Cadwallader.

“I don’t,” said Mr. Haye.

“Neither do I!”

“I do,” said Elizabeth.  “I think he is worth at least ten of his brother.”

“She likes him so well, that if you don’t help him, dear Mr. Haye, there is every likelihood that somebody else will.”

“I certainly would,” said Elizabeth, “if there was any way that I could.  But there is not.”

“I don’t know that he wants help,” said Mr. Haye.

“Why, he must, father! —­ he can’t live upon nothing; how much means do you suppose he has?”

“I met him at the chop-house the other day,” said Mr. Haye; —­ “he was eating a very good slice of roast beef.  I dare say he paid for it.”

“But he is struggling to make his way up into his profession,” said Elizabeth.  “He must be.”

“What must he be?” said Rose.

“Struggling.”

“Perhaps he is,” said Mr. Haye, “but he don’t say so.  If I see him struggling, I will try what I can do.”

“Oh father! —­”

“Why should Winthrop Landholm be helped,” said Rose, “more than all the other young men who are studying in the city?”

“Because I know him,” said Elizabeth, “and don’t happen to know the others.  And because I like him.”

“I like him too,” said her father yawning, “but I don’t know anything very remarkable about him.  I like his brother the best.”

“He is honest, and good, and independent,” said Elizabeth; “and those are the very people that ought to be helped.”

“And those are the very people that it is difficult to help,” said her father.  “How do you suppose he would take it, if I were to offer him a fifty dollar note to-morrow?”

“I don’t suppose he would take it at all,” said Elizabeth.  “You couldn’t help him so.  But there are other ways.”

“You may give him all your business, when he gets into his profession,” said Mr. Haye.  “I don’t know what else you can do.  Or you can use your influence with Mr. Satterthwaite to get his father to employ him.”

“You and he may both be very glad to do it yet,” said Elizabeth.  “I shouldn’t wonder.”

“Then I don’t see why you are concerned about him,” said Rose.

Elizabeth was silent, with a face that might be taken to say there was nobody within hearing worthy of her words.

Rufus went back to his work in the mountains, and Winthrop struggled on; if most diligent and unsparing toil, and patient denying himself of necessary and wished-for things, were struggling.  It was all his spare time could do to make clear the way for the hours given to his profession.  There was little leisure for rest, and he had no means to bestow on pleasure; and that is a very favourable stating of the case as far as regards the last item.  Mr. Inchbald never asked for rent, and never had it; not in those days.  That the time would come, Winthrop believed; and his kind host never troubled himself to inquire.