So Elizabeth drank her cup of tea alone; and sat alone through the long evening and mused.  For still it was rather musing than thinking; going over things past and things present; things future she cared not much to meddle with.  It was not a good time, she said, for taking up her religious wants and duties; and in part that was true, severely as she felt them; for her mind was in such a slow fever that none of its pulses were healthful.  Fear, and foreboding, for her father and for herself, —­ hope springing along with the fear; a strong sense that her character was different from what it ought to be, and a strong wish that it were not, —­ and a yet mightier leaning in another direction; —­ all of these, meeting and modifying each other and struggling together, seemed to run in her veins and to tell in each beat of the tiny timekeeper at her wrist.  How could she disentangle one from the other, or give a quiet mind to anything, when she had it not to give?

She was just bitterly asking herself this question, when Winthrop came in at the open parlour door; and the immediate bitter thought which arose next was, did he ever have any but a quiet mind to give to anything?  The two bitters were so strong upon her tongue that they kept it still; till he had walked up to the neighbourhood of her sofa.

“How is my father, Mr. Landholm?” she said rising and meeting him.

“As you mean the question I cannot answer it —­ There is nothing declarative, Miss Elizabeth.  Yes,” he said kindly, meeting and answering her face, —­ “you must wait yet awhile longer.”

Elizabeth sat down again, and looked down.

“Are you troubled with fears for yourself?” he said gently, taking a chair near her.

“No —­” Elizabeth said, and said truly.  She could have told him, what indeed she could not, that since his coming into the house another feeling had overmastered that fear, and kept it under.

“At least,” she added, —­ “I suppose I have it, but it doesn’t trouble me now.”

“I came down on principle,” said he, —­ “to exchange the office of nurse for that of physician; —­ thinking it probably better that you should see me for a few minutes, than see nobody at all.”

“I am sure you were right,” said Elizabeth.  “I felt awhile ago as if my head would go crazy with too many thoughts.”

“Must be unruly thoughts,” said Winthrop.

“They were,” said she looking up.

“Can’t you manage unruly thoughts?”

“No! —­ never could.”

“Do you know what happens in that case? —­ They manage you.”

“But how can I help it, Mr. Landholm?  There they are, and here am I; —­ they are strong and I am weak.”

“If they are the strongest, they will rule.”

Elizabeth sat silent, thinking her counsellor was very unsatisfactory.

“Are you going to sit up all night, Miss Elizabeth?”

“No —­ I suppose not —­”