Elizabeth sat down and struggled with herself and with the different passions which had been at work in her mind, till she was wearied out; and then she slept.

She waked up in the middle of the night, to find the lamps burning bright and Clam asleep on the floor by her side; she herself was sitting yet where she had been sitting in the evening, on a low seat with her head on the sofa cushion.  She got up and with a sort of new spring of hope and cheer, whence come she knew not, laid herself on the sofa and slept till the morning.

“You’d best be up, Miss ’Lizabeth,” were Clam’s first words.

“Why?” said Elizabeth springing up.

“It’s time,” said her handmaiden.

Elizabeth rose from her sofa and put her face and dress in such order as a few minutes could do.  She had but come back from doing this, and was standing before the table, when Winthrop came in.  It was much earlier than usual.  Elizabeth looked, but he did not answer, the wonted question.  He led her gently to the window and placed himself opposite to her.

“You must leave here, Miss Elizabeth,” he said.

“Must I?” —­ said Elizabeth looking up at him and trembling.

“You must —­” he answered very gently.

“Why, Mr. Landholm?” Elizabeth dared to say.

“Because there is no longer any reason why you should stay here.”

She trembled exceedingly, but though her very lips trembled, she did not cry.  He would have placed her on a chair, but she resisted that and stood still.

“Where do you want me to go, Mr. Winthrop?” she said presently, like a child.

“I will take you wherever you say —­ to some friend’s house?”

She caught at his arm and her breath at once, with a kind of sob; then releasing his arm, she said,

“There isn’t anywhere.”

“No house in the city?”

She shook her head.

“If you will let me, I will take you to a safe and quiet place; and as soon as possible away from the city.”

“When?”

“When from here? —­ Now, —­ as soon as you can be ready.”

Elizabeth’s eye wandered vaguely towards the table like a person in a maze.

“Mayn’t I go up stairs again?” she said, her eye coming back to his.

“I would rather you did not.”

She gave way then and sat down covering her face with her hands.  And sobs as violent as her tremblings had been, held her for a little while.  The moment she could, she rose up and looked up again, throwing off her tears as it were, though a sob now and then even while she was speaking interrupted her breath.

“But Mr. Winthrop —­ the house, —­how can I go and leave it with everything in it?”

“I will take care, if you will trust me.”

“I will trust you,” she said with running tears.  “But you? —­”

“I will take care of it and you too. —­ I will try to.”