Of late, in the second summer, this last sort of pleasure-taking grew to be more frequent.  Mr. Herder was less visited, and Mr. Haye more.  Winthrop was always welcome, but there was no change in the manner of his being received.  Unless perhaps a little more graciousness on Elizabeth’s part, and a trifle less on Rose’s, might be quoted.

So the sea-breezes blew through the dog-days; and September ushered in and ushered out its storms; and October came, clear and fair, with strength and health for body and mind.  With October came Rufus, having just made an end of his work in the North country.  He came but for a few days’ stay in passing from one scene of labours to another.  For those few days he abode with his brother, sharing his room and bed.

“Well, Winthrop, I’ve stuck to my choice,” he remarked, the second evening of his being there.  The tone indicated the opening of a great budget of thoughts.  Winthrop was bending over a parchment-coloured volume, and Rufus pacing up and down the longest stretch of the little room.

“I am glad of it,” said Winthrop, without looking up.

“I am not sure that I am.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t see that I gain much by it, and I certainly lose.”

“What do you expect to gain?”

“Nothing but money, —­ and I don’t get that.”

“It’s safe, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and so are winter’s snows, in their treasury; —­ and I could as soon get it by asking for it.”

“Let us hope it will come with the snows,” said Winthrop, his head still bent down over his book.

“You may talk; —­ it is easy waiting for you.”

“Query, how that would give me a right to talk,” said Winthrop turning over a leaf; —­ “supposing it to be a fact; of which I have some doubts.”

“What have you been doing all to-day?”

“The usual routine —­ which after all is but preparing to do.”

“What has been the routine to-day?”

“You saw my breakfast and saw me get it. —­ Then I went out. —­ Then I read, according to custom.”

“What?”

“Classics.”

“Do you!”

“For awhile.  The rest of the morning between engrossing deeds and the Record Office.  First half of the afternoon, or rather a larger proportion, ditto; the rest to meet my friends Messrs. Jones and Satterthwaite.”

“Satterthwaite! —­ what does he want?”

“To read Greek with me.”

“Greek!  What has put that into his head?  Bob.  Satterthwaite!” —­ and Rufus threw back his head and laughed in a great state of amusement.  “What has put that into his head? —­ eh, Winthrop?”

“I don’t inquire.  It puts money in my pocket.”

“Not much,” said Rufus.

“No, not much.”

“What’s the reason, do you think?  What moves him to woo the Muses? —­ I’m afraid it’s because he thinks it is a preliminary wooing he must go through before he can be successful in another quarter.”