Their attic room had one evening a very unwonted visiter in the shape of Mr. Herder.  Beside Mr. Inchbald and his sister, Rufus was the sole one that ever made a third in the little company.  Winthrop’s friends, for many reasons, had not the entrance there.  But this evening, near the beginning of the new year, there came a knock at the door, and Mr. Herder’s round face walked in rounder than ever.

“Good evening! —­ How is all wiz you, Wint’rop? —­ and you? —­ I would not let no one come up wiz me —­ I knew I should find you.”

“How did you know that, Mr. Herder?”

“O! —­ I have not looked so long for strange things on the earth —­ and in the earth —­ that I cannot find a friend —­ de most strange thing of all.”

“Is that your conclusion, Mr. Herder?  I didn’t know you had quite so desperate an opinion of mankind.”

“It is not despairate,” said the naturalist; —­ “I do not despair of nobody.  Dere is much good among de world —­ dere might be more —­ a good deal.  I hope all will be good one day —­ it will be —­ then we shall have no more trouble.  How is it wiz you, Wint’rop?”

“Nothing to complain of, Mr. Herder.”

“Does he never have nozing to complain of?” said the naturalist turning to Winnie.

“He never thinks he has,” said Winnie.  She had answered the naturalist’s quick eye with a quick smile, and then turned on Winthrop a look that spoke of many a thing he must have passed over to make her words good.  Mr. Herder’s eye followed hers.

“How is everything with you, Mr. Herder?”

“It is well enough,” said the naturalist, —­ “like the common.  I do not complain, neizer.  I never have found time to complain.  Wint’rop, I am come to give you some work.”

“What do you want me to do, sir?”

“I do not know,” said the naturalist; —­ “I do not know nozing about what is to be done; but I want you to do something.”

“I hope you will give me something more to go to work upon, sir.  What is the matter?”

“It is not my matter,” said the naturalist; —­ “I did never get in such a quarrel but one, and I will never again in anozer —­ it is my brother, or the man who married my sister —­ his name is Jean Lansing.”

“What is the matter with him?”

“Dere is too many things the matter wiz him,” said Mr. Herder, “for he is sick abed —­ that is why I am here.  I am come to tell you his business and to get you to do it.”

“I shall think I am working for you, Mr. Herder,” Winthrop said, as he tied up a bundle of papers which had been lying loose about the table.

“Have you got plenty to do?” said the naturalist, giving them a good-humoured eye.

“Can’t have too much, sir.  Now what is your brother’s affair?”

“I do not know as I can tell you,” said the other, his bright jovial face looking uncommonly mystified, —­ “it seems to me he does not know very well himself.  He does not know that anybody has done nozing, but he is not satisfied.”