“Very serious!” said Elizabeth, “if I had anybody to take care of me.  I couldn’t be there with only Clam and Karen.”

“You would find things very rough and uncomfortable.”

“What do you suppose I care about how rough?” said Elizabeth.  “I would rather be there than in any other place I can think of.”

“I am afraid you would still be much alone there —­ your own household would be all.”

“I must be that anywhere,” said Elizabeth bitterly.  “I wish I could be there.”

“Then I will see what I can do,” said he rising.

“About what?” said Elizabeth.

“I will tell you if I succeed.”

Mr. Landholm walked down stairs into Mrs. Nettley’s sanctum, where the good lady was diligently at work in kitchen affairs.

“Mrs. Nettley, will you leave your brother and me to keep things together here, and go into the country with this bereaved friend of mine?”

Mrs. Nettley stood still with her hands in the dough of her bread and looked at the maker of this extraordinary proposition.

“Into the country, Mr. Landholm! —­ When?”

“Perhaps this afternoon —­ in two or three hours.”

“Dear Mr. Landholm! —­”

“Dear Mrs. Nettley.”

“But it’s impossible.”

“Is it?”

“Why —­ What does she want me for, Mr. Landholm?”

“She is alone, and without friends at hand.  She wishes to leave the city and take refuge in her own house in the country, but it is uninhabited except by servants.  She does not know of my application to you, which I make believing it to be a case of charity.”

Mrs. Nettley began to knead her dough with a haste and vigour which told of other matters on hand.

“Will you go, Mr. Landholm?”

“Certainly —­ to see you safe there —­ and then I will come back and take care of Mr. Inchbald.”

“How far is it, sir?”

“So far as my old home, which Miss Haye has bought.”

“What, Wut —­ that place of yours?” said Mrs. Nettley.

“Yes,” Winthrop said gravely.

“And how long shall I be wanted, Mr. Landholm?”

“I do not know, Mrs. Nettley.”

Mrs. Nettley hastily cut her dough into loaves and threw it into the pans.

“You are going, Mrs. Nettley?”

“Why sir —­ in two hours, you say?”

“Perhaps in so little as that —­ I am going to see.”

“But Mr. Landholm,” said the good lady, facing round upon him after bestowing her pans in their place, and looking somewhat concerned, —­ “Mr. Landholm, do you think she will like me? —­ Miss Haye?”

Winthrop smiled a little.

“I think she will be very thankful to you, Mrs. Nettley —­ I can answer no further.”

“I suppose it’s right to risk that,” Mrs. Nettley concluded.  “I’ll do what you say, Mr. Landholm.”

Without more words Mr. Landholm went out and left the house.