“Have you nothing to do, Clam?”

“Lots,” said the damsel.

“Why aren’t you about it, then?”

“I was waitin’ till you was about your’n, Miss ’Lizabeth.  I like folks to be out o’ my way.”

“Do you!  Take care and keep out of mine,” said her mistress.  “What are you going to do now?”

“Settle your bed, Miss ’Lizabeth.  It’s good we’ve got linen enough, anyhow.”

“Linen, —­” said Elizabeth, —­ “and a bedstead, —­ have you got a bed to put on it?”

“There’s been care took for that,” said Clam, with the same satisfied expression and a little turn of her head.

Half angry and half sick, Elizabeth left her, and went in through her new-furnished keeping-room, to Karen’s apartment where the table was bountifully spread and Mrs. Nettley and Karen awaited her coming.  Elizabeth silently sat down.

“Ain’t he comin’?” said Karen.

“No —­ I am very sorry —­ Mr. Landholm thinks he must finish what he is about first.”

“He has lots o’ thoughts,” said Karen discontentedly, —­ “he’d think just as well after eatin’. —­ Well, Miss —­ Karen’s done her best —­ There’s been worse chickens than those be —­ Mis’ Landholm used to cook ’em that way, and she didn’t cook ’em no better.  I s’pose he’ll eat some by’m by —­ when he’s done thinkin’.”

She went off, and Elizabeth was punctually and silently taken care of by Mrs. Nettley.  The meal over, she did not go back to her own premises; but took a stand in the open kitchen door, for a variety of reasons, and stood there, looking alternately out and in.  The sun had set, the darkness was slowly gathering; soft purple clouds floated up from the west, over Wut-a-qut-o’s head, which however the nearer heads of pines and cedars prevented her seeing.  A delicate fringe of evergreen foliage edged upon the clear white sky.  The fresher evening air breathed through the pine and cedar branches, hardly stirred their stiff leaves, but brought from them tokens of rare sweetness; brought them to Elizabeth’s sorrowful face, and passed on.  Elizabeth turned her face from the wind and looked into the house.  Karen had made her appearance again, and was diligently taking away broken meats and soiled dishes and refreshing the look of the table; setting some things to warm and some things to cool; giving the spare plate and knife and fork the advantage of the best place at table; brushing away crumbs, and smoothing down the salt-cellar.  “You are over particular!” thought Elizabeth; —­ “it would do him no harm to come after me in handling the salt-spoon! —­ that even that trace of me should be removed.”  She looked out again.