“I see the brother and the sister,” said Clam.  “The brother was never lookin’ better, and the sister was never lookin’ worse; —­ she ain’t lookin’ bad, neither.”

“Is she ill?”

“She’s lyin’ abed, and so far from bein’ well that she’ll never be well again.”

“She hasn’t been well this great while, Clam; that’s nothing new.”

“This is,” said Clam.

“Does her brother think she is very ill?”

“He knows more about it than I do,” said Clam.  “I said I would go to take care of her, and he said I wouldn’t, for you’d be a wantin’ me.”

“I don’t want you at all!” said Elizabeth, —­ “if you could be of any use.  Are you quiet and careful enough for a nurse?”

“Firstrate!” —­ said Clam; —­ “no, I guess I’m not ezackly, here; but I were, up to Wutsey-Qutsey.”

“Up where?” said Elizabeth.

“Yes, miss.”

“I told you not to speak to me so.”

Clam stood and gave no sign.

“Do you think you could be of any use up there, Clam?”

“Mr. Winthrop says everybody can be of use.”

“Then go and try; I don’t want you; and stay as long as they would like to have you.”

“When will I go, Mis’ Landholm?”

“What?”

“I asked Mis’ Landholm, when will I go.”

“What do you mean, Clam!”

“You said call you any name I liked —­ and I like that ’bout as well as any one,” said Clam sturdily.

“But it isn’t my name.”

“I wish ‘twas,” said Clam; —­ “no, I don’ know as I do, neither; but it comes kind o’ handy.”

“Make some other serve your turn,” said Elizabeth gravely.  “Go up this afternoon, and say I don’t want you and shall be most happy if you can be of any service to Miss Winifred.”

“Or Mr. Winthrop —­” said Clam.  “I’ll do all I can for both of ’em, Miss ’Lizabeth.”

She was not permitted to do much.  She went and stayed a night and a day, and served well; but Winifred did not like her company, and at last confessed to Winthrop that she could not bear to have her about.  It was of no use to reason the matter; and Clam was sent home.  The answer to Elizabeth’s note came just before her handmaiden, by some other conveyance.

“Little South St. Dec. 21, 1821.

“Your note, Miss Haye, has put me in some difficulty, but after a good deal of consideration I have made up my mind to allow the ‘right’ you claim.  It is your right, and I have no right to deprive you of it.  Yet the difficulty reaches further still; for without details, which you waive, the result which you wish to know must stand upon my word alone.  I dislike exceedingly it should so stand; but I am constrained here also to admit, that if you choose to trust me rather than have the trouble of the accounts, it is just that you should have your choice.

“My brother’s owing to Mr. Haye, for which he is held responsible, is in the sum of eleven hundred and forty-one dollars.