“Business!” said Elizabeth, —­ “Did you tell him what was in the house?”

“I told him,” said Clam, “and he don’t care.  He wants to see you.”

Elizabeth had no words to waste, nor heart to speak them.  She got up and went down stairs and in at the open parlour door, like a person who walks in a dream through a dreadful labyrinth of pain, made up of what used to be familiar objects of pleasure.  So she went in.  But so soon as her eye caught the figure standing before the fireplace, though she did not know what he had come there for, only that he was there, her heart sprang as to a pillar of hope.  She stopped short and her two hands were brought together with an indescribable expression, telling of relief.

“Oh Mr. Landholm! what brought you here!”

He came forward to where she stood and took one of her hands; and felt that she was trembling like a shaking leaf.

“How is your father?” was his question.

“I don’t know!” said Elizabeth bending down her head while tears began to run fast, —­ “I don’t know anything about sickness —­ I never was with anybody before —­”

She had felt one other time the gentle kind hands which, while her own eyes were blinded with tears, led her and placed her on the sofa.  Elizabeth took the sofa cushion in both arms and laid her head upon it, turning her face from her companion; and her whole frame was racked and shaken with terrible agitation.

In a few minutes this violent expression of feeling came to an end.  She took her arms from the pillow and sat up and spoke again to the friend at her side; who meanwhile had been perfectly quiet, offering neither to check nor to comfort her.  Elizabeth went back to a repetition of her last remark, as if for an excuse.

“I never even tried to nurse anybody before —­ and the doctor couldn’t stay with me this morning —­”

“I will do both now,” said Winthrop.

“What?” —­ said Elizabeth looking at him bewilderedly.

“Stay with you, and take care of Mr. Haye.”

“Oh no! you must not!” she said with a sort of eager seriousness; —­ “I shouldn’t like to have you.”

“I have seen something of the disease,” he said smiling slightly, “and I am not afraid of it. —­ Are you?”

“Oh yes! —­ oh yes!!”

How much was confessed in the tone of those words! —­ and she hid her face again.  But her companion made no remark.

“Is there no friend you would like to have sent for?”

“No,” said Elizabeth, —­ “not one! not one here —­ and not anywhere, that I should care to have with me.”

“May I go up and see Mr. Haye now?” he said presently.  “Which is the room?”

Elizabeth rose up to shew him.

“No,” he said, gently motioning her back, —­ “I am going alone.  You must stay here.”

“But I must go too, Mr. Landholm! —­”

“Not if I go,” he said.

“But I am his daughter, —­ I must.”