“I have the honour to be, with great respect,

“Winthrop Landholm.”

Elizabeth read and re-read.

“It is very polite —­ it is very handsome —­ nothing could be clearer from any shadow of implications or insinuations —­ no, nor of anything but ‘great respect’ either,” she said to herself.  “It’s very good of him to trust and understand me and give me just what I want, without any palaver. That isn’t like common people, any more.  Well, my note wasn’t, either.  But he hasn’t said a word but just what was necessary. —­ Well, why should he? —­”

She looked up and saw Clam.

“What’s brought you back again?”

“I don’ know,” said Clam.  “My two feet ha’ brought me, but I don’ know what sent me.”

“Why did you come then?”

“‘Cause I had to,” said Clam.  “Nothin’ else wouldn’t ha’ made me.  I told you it was good livin’ with him.  I’d stay as long as I got a chance, if I was anybody!”

“Then what made you come home?”

“I don’ know,” said Clam.  “He wouldn’t let me stay.  He don’t stop to make everything clear; he thinks it’s good enough for him to say so; and so it is, I suppose; and he told me to come.”

“I am afraid you didn’t do your duty well.”

“I’d like to see who wouldn’t,” said Clam.  “I did mine as well as he did his’n.”

“How is Winifred?”

“She’s pretty bad.  I guess he don’t think he’ll have much more of her, and he means to have all he can these last days.  And she thinks she’s almost in Paradise when he’s alongside of her.”

Elizabeth laid her face down and asked no more questions.

But she concerned herself greatly to know how much and what she might do in the premises, to shew her kind feeling and remembrance, without doing too much.  She sent Clam once with jellies; then she would not do that again.  Should she go to see Winifred herself?  Inclination said yes; and backed its consent with sundry arguments.  It was polite and kind; and everybody likes kindness; she had known Winifred, and her brother, long ago, and had received kindness in the family, yes, even just now from Winthrop himself; and though his visiting had so long been at an end, this late intercourse of notes and business gave her an opening.  And probably Winifred had very few friends in the city to look after her.  And again inclination said “Go.”  But then came in another feeling that said “Go not.  You have not opening enough.  Mr. Landholm’s long and utter cessation of visits, from whatever cause, says plainly enough that he does not desire the pleasure of your society; don’t do anything that even looks like forcing it upon him.  People will give it a name that will not please you.”  “But then,” said inclination on the other hand, “my going could not have that air, to him, for he knows and I know that in the existing state of affairs it is perfectly impossible that he should ever enter the doors of my father’s house —­ let me do what I will.”  “People don’t know as much,” said the other feeling; “err on the safe side if at all, and stay at home.”  “And I don’t care much for people,” —­ said Elizabeth.