Susan Warner - Hills of the Shatemuc

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"What is that?"

Mrs. Landholm looked up again, and the look caught Elizabeth's
eye, as she answered,

"The Bible."

"The Bible! -- no, I don't read it much," said Elizabeth. "Why,
Mrs. Landholm?"

"Why, my dear? -- I hope you will know some day why," she
answered, her voice a little changed.

"But that is not exactly an answer, Mrs. Landholm," said
Elizabeth with some curiosity.

Mrs. Landholm dropped her hands and her stocking into her lap,
and looked at the face opposite her. It was an honest and
intelligent face, very innocent in its ignorance of life and
life-work.

"What should we do without the Bible?" she asked.

"Do without it! Why I have done without it all my days, Mrs.
Landholm."

"You are mistaken even in that," she said; "but, Miss
Elizabeth, do you think you have lived a blameless life all
your life till now? -- have you never done wrong?"

"Why no, I don't think that, -- of course I have," Elizabeth
answered gravely, and not without a shade of displeasure at
the question.

"Do you know that for every one of those wrong doings your
life is forfeit?"

"Why no!"

"And that you are living and sitting there, only because Jesus
Christ paid his blood for your life? -- Your time is bought
time; -- and he has written the Bible to tell you what to do
with it."

"Am I not to do what I like with my own time?" thought
Elizabeth. The thought was exceeding disagreeable; but before
she or anybody had spoken again, the door of the big bed-room
opened gently, and Miss Cadwallader's pretty face peeped out.

"Are they all gone to bed? -- are they all gone to bed?" she
said; -- "may I come, Mrs Landholm?"

She was in her dressing-gown, and tripping across the floor
with the prettiest little bare feet in the world, she took a
chair in the corner of the fireplace.

"They got so cold," she said, -- "I thought I would come out and
warm them. How cosy and delightful you do look here. Dear Mrs.
Landholm, do stop working. What are you talking about?"

There was a minute's hesitation, and then Elizabeth said,

"Of reading the Bible."

"The Bible! oh why should one read the Bible?" she said,
huddling herself up in the corner. "It's very tiresome!"

"Do you ever read it, Miss Rose?"

"I? -- no, indeed I don't. I am sorry, I dare say you will
think me very wrong, Mrs. Landholm."

"Then how do you know it is tiresome?"

"O I know it is -- I have read it; and one hears it read, you
know; but I never want to."

Her words grated, perhaps on both her hearers; but neither of
them answered.

"There was a man once," said Mrs. Landholm, "who read it a
great deal; and he said that it was sweeter than honey and the
honey-comb."

"Who was that?"

"You may read about him if you wish to," said Mrs. Landholm.

"But Mrs. Landholm," said Elizabeth, "do you think it is an
_interesting_ book?"

"Not to those who are not interested in the things, Miss
Elizabeth."

"What things?"

Mrs. Landholm paused a bit.

"A friend to go with you through life's journey -- a sure
friend and a strong one; a home ready at the journey's end;
the name and the love of forgiven children, instead of the
banishment of offenders; a clean heart and a right spirit in
place of this sickly and sin-stricken nature! -- a Saviour and
a Father instead of a Judge."

It was impossible to forget the reddening eyes and trembling
lips which kept the words company. Elizabeth found her own
quivering for sympathy; why, she could not imagine. But there
was so much in that face, -- of patience and gladness, of
strength and weakness, -- it was no wonder it touched her. Mrs.
Landholm's eyes fell to her work and she took up her stocking
again and went on darning; but there was a quick motion of her
needle that told how the spirits were moving.

Elizabeth sat still and did not look at her book. Miss
Cadwallader hugged herself in her wrapper and muttered under
her breath something about "stupid."

"Are your feet warm?" said Elizabeth.

"Yes."

"Then come! --"

Within their own room, she shut the door and without speaking
went about with a certain quick energy which she accompanied
with more than her usual dignified isolation.

"Who are you angry with now?" said her cousin.

"Nobody."

"Yes you are, you are angry with me."

"It is of no sort of use to be angry with you."

"Why?"

"Because I believe you could not be wise if you were to try."

"I think it is my place to be angry now," said Miss Rose;
giving no other indication of it however than a very slight
pouting of her under lip. "And all because I said 'stupid!'
Well I don't care -- they _are_ all stupid --Rufus was as stupid
this afternoon as he could be; and there is no need, for he
can be anything else. He was as stupid as he could be."

"What _have_ you to do with Rufus?" said Elizabeth stamping
slightly.

"Just what you have to do with Winthrop -- amuse myself."

"You know I don't!" said Elizabeth. "How dare you say it! I do
not _choose_ to have such things said to me. You _know_, if that
was all, that Winthrop does not amuse anybody -- nobody ever
sees him from meal-time to meal-time. You find Rufus very
amusing, and he _can_ talk very well, considering; but nobody
knows whether the other one can be amusing, for ho never
tried, so far as I know."

"I know," said her cousin; "they are a stupid set, all of
them."

"They are _not_ a stupid set," said Elizabeth; "there is not a
stupid one of them, from the father down. They are anything
but stupid."

"What does Winthrop do with himself? Rufus isn't so busy."

"I don't know," said Elizabeth; "and I am sure I don't care.
He goes for eels, I think, every other night. He has been
after them to-night. He is always after birds or fish or
rabbits, when he isn't on the farm."

"I wonder what people find so much to do on a farm. I should
think they'd grow stupid. -- It is funny," said Miss
Cadwallader as she got into bed, "how people in the country
always think you must read the Bible."

Elizabeth lay a little while thinking about it and then fell
asleep. She had slept, by the mind's unconscious measurement,
a good while, when she awoke again. It startled her to see
that a light came flickering through the cracks of her door
from the kitchen. She slipped out of bed and softly and
quickly lifted the latch. But it was not the house on fire.
The light came from Mrs. Landholm's candle dying in its
socket; beyond the candle, on the hearth, was the mistress of
the house on her knees. Elizabeth would have doubted even then
what she was about, but for the soft whisper of words which
came to her ear. She shut the door as softly and quickly
again, and got into bed with a kind of awe upon her. She had
certainly heard people stand up in the pulpit and make
prayers, and it seemed suitable that other people should bend
upon cushions and bow heads while they did so; but that in a
common-roofed house, on no particular occasion, anybody should
kneel down to pray when he was alone and for his own sake, was
something that had never come under her knowledge; and it gave
her a disagreeable sort of shock. She lay awake and watched to
see how soon Mrs. Landholm's light would go away; it died, the
faint moonlight stole in through the window unhindered; and
still there was no stir in the next room. Elizabeth watched
and wondered; till after a long half hour she heard a light
step in the kitchen and then a very light fall of the latch.
She sprang up to look at the moon; it had but little risen;
she calculated the time of its rising for several nights back,
and made up her mind that it must be long past twelve. And
this a woman who was tired every day with her day's work and
had been particularly tired to-night! for Elizabeth had
noticed it. It made her uncomfortable. Why should _she_ spend
her tired minutes in praying, after the whole house was
asleep? and why was it that Elizabeth could not set her down
as a fool for her pains? And on the contrary there grew up in
her mind, on the instant, a respect for the whole family that
wrapped them about like a halo.

One morning when Elizabeth came through the kitchen to mount
her horse, Mrs. Landholm was doing some fine ironing. The blue
habit stopped a moment by the ironing-table.

"How dreadfully busy you are, Mrs. Landholm."

"Not so busy that I shall not come out and see you start," she
answered. "I always love to do that."

"Winnie," said Elizabeth putting a bank bill into the little
girl's hand, "I shall make you my messenger. Will you give
that to the man who takes care of my horse, for I never see
him, and tell him I say he does his work beautifully."

Winifred blushed and hesitated, and handing the note back said
that she had rather not.

"Won't you give it to him!"

The little girl coloured still more. "He don't want it."

"Keep your money, my dear," said Mrs. Landholm; "there is no
necessity for your giving him anything."

"But why shouldn't I give it to him if I like it?" said
Elizabeth in great wonderment.

"It is a boy that works for my father, Miss Haye," said
Winthrop gravely; "your money would be thrown away upon him."

"But in this he works for me."

"He don't know that."

"If he don't -- Money isn't thrown away upon anybody, that ever
I heard of," said Elizabeth; "and besides, what if I choose to
throw it away?"

"You can. Only that it is doubtful whether it would be picked
up."

"You think he wouldn't take it?"

"I think it is very likely."

"What a fool! -- Then I shall send away my horse!" said
Elizabeth; "for either he must be under obligation to me, or I
to him; and I don't choose the latter."

"Do you expect to get through the world without being under
obligation to anybody?" said Winthrop smiling.

But Elizabeth had turned, and marching out of the house did
not make any reply.

"What's the objection to being under obligation, Miss
Elizabeth?" said Mrs. Landholm. Elizabeth was mounting her
horse, in which operation Winthrop assisted her.

"It don't suit me!"

"Fortune's suits do not always fit," said Winthrop. "But then
--"

"Then what?" --

"She never alters them."

Elizabeth's eyes fired, and an answer was on her lip, but
meeting the very composed face of the last speaker, as he put
her foot in the stirrup, she thought better of it. She looked
at him and asked,

"What if one does not choose to wear them?"

"Nothing for it but to fight Fortune," said Winthrop smiling;
-- "or go without any."

"I would rather go anyhow!" said Elizabeth, -- "than be obliged
to anybody, -- of course except to my father."

"How if you had a husband?" inquired Mrs. Landholm with a
good-humoured face.

It was a turn Elizabeth did not like; she did not answer Mrs.
Landholm as she would have answered her cousin. She hesitated.

"I never talk about that, Mrs. Landholm," she said a little
haughtily, with a very pretty tinge upon her cheek; -- "I would
not be obliged to _anybody_ but my father; -- never."

"Why?" said Mrs. Landholm. "I don't understand."

"Don't you see, Mrs. Landholm, -- the person under obligation
is always the inferior."

"I never felt it so," she replied.

Her guest could not feel, what her son did, the strong
contrast they made. One little head was held as if certainly
the neck had never been bowed under any sort of pressure; the
other, in its meek dignity, spoke the mind of too noble a
level to be either raised or lowered by an accident.

"It is another meaning of the word, mother, from that you arc
accustomed to," Winthrop said.

Elizabeth looked at him, but nothing was to be gained from his
face.

"Will you have the goodness to hand me my riding-whip," she
said shortly.

"You will have to be obliged to me for that," he said as he
picked it up.

"Yes," said Elizabeth; "but I pay for this obligation with a
'thank you'!"

So she did, and with a bow at once a little haughty and not a
little graceful. It was the pure grace of nature, the very
speaking of her mind at the moment. Turning her horse's head
she trotted off, her blue habit fluttering and her little head
carried very gracefully to the wind and her horse's motion.
They stood and looked after her.

"Poor child!" said Mrs. Landholm, -- "she has something to
learn. There is good in her too."

"Ay," said her son, "and there is gold in the earth; but it
wants hands."

"Yes," said Mrs. Landholm, -- "if she only fell into good hands
--"

It might have been tempting, to a certain class of minds, to
look at that pretty little figure flying off at full trot in
all the riot of self-guidance, and to know that it only wanted
good hands to train her into something really fine. But Mrs.
Landholm went back to her ironing, and Winthrop to drive his
oxen a field.

Elizabeth trotted till she had left them out of sight; and
then walked her horse slowly while she thought what had been
meant by that queer speech of Winthrop's. Then she reminded
herself that it was of no sort of consequence what had been
meant by it, and she trotted on again.

Asahel as usual came out to hold her bridle when she returned.

"Asahel, who takes care of my horse?" she said as she was
dismounting.

"Ain't it handsomely done?" said Asahel.

"Yes, -- beautifully. Who does it?"

"It's somebody that always does things so," said Asahel
oracularly, a little in doubt how he should answer.

"Well, who?"

"Don't you know?"

"Of course I don't! Who is it?"

"It's Winthrop."

"Winthrop!" --

"Yes. He does it."

Elizabeth's cheeks burnt.

"Where's that man of yours -- why don't he do it?"

"Sam? -- O he don't know -- I guess he ain't up to it."

Asahel led away the horse, and Elizabeth went into the house,
ready to cry with vexation. But it was not generally her
fashion to vent vexation so.

"What's the matter now?" said her cousin. "What adventure have
you met with this morning?"

"Nothing at all."

"Well, what's the matter?"

"Nothing -- only I want to lay my whip about somebody's
shoulders, -- if I could find the right person."

"Well 'taint me," said Rose shrinking. "Look here -- I've got a
delicious plan in my head -- I'm going to make them take us in
the boat round the bay, after huckleberries."

"Absurd!"

"What's absurd?"

"That."

"Why?"

"Who'll take you?"

"No matter -- somebody, I don't know who; -- Rufus. But you'll
go?"

"Indeed I won't."

"Why?"

"The best reason in the world. I don't want to."

"But I want you to go -- for my sake, Lizzie."

"I won't do it for anybody's sake. And Rose -- I think you take
a great deal too much of Rufus's time. I don't believe he does
his duty on the farm, and he can't, if you will call upon him
so much."

"He's not obliged to do what I ask him," said Rose pouting;
"and I'm not going to stay here if I can't amuse myself. But
come! -- you'll go in the bay after huckleberries?"

"I shall not stir. You must make up your mind to go without
me."

Which Rose declared was very disagreeable of her cousin, and
she even shed a few tears; but a rock could not have received
them with more stony indifference, and they were soon dried.

The huckleberry expedition was agreed upon at dinner, Mr.
Landholm being, as he always was when he could, very
agreeable. In the mean time Winthrop took the boat and went
out on the bay to catch some fish.

It was near the time for him to be back again, and the whole
party were gathered in the keeping-room and in the door-way;
Elizabeth and Mrs. Landholm with their respective books and
work, the others, children and all, rather on the expecting
order and not doing much of any thing; when a quick springy
footstep came round the house corner. Not Winthrop's, they all
knew; his step was slower and more firm; and Winthrop's
features were very little like the round good-humoured
handsome face which presented itself at the front door.

"Mr. Herder!" cried the children. But Rose was first in his
way.

"Miss Cadval-lader!" said the gentleman, -- "I did not expect --
Mrs. Landholm, how do you do? -- Miss Elisabet' I did not look
for this pleasure. Who would have expect' to see you here!"

"Nobody I suppose," said Elizabeth. "Isn't it pleasant, Mr.
Herder?"

There was a great laughing and shaking of hands between them;
and then Mr. Herder went again to Mrs. Landholm, and gave the
children his cordial greeting. And was made to know Rufus.

"But where is Wint'rop?" said Mr. Herder, after they had done
a great deal of talking in ten minutes.

"Winthrop is gone a fishing. We expect him home soon."

"Where is he? Tell me where he is gone and I will go after him
and bring him back. I know de country. I did not come to see
you, Miss Elisabet' -- I have come to see my friend Wint'rop.
And I do not want to stay in de house, never, while it is so
pleasant wizout."

"But we are going in the bay after huckleberries," said Rose,
-- "won't you go with us, Mr. Herder?"

"After huckle-berry -- I do not know what is that -- yes, I will
go wiz you, and I will go find Wint'rop and bring him home to
go too."

"He is out on the bay," said Elizabeth; "I'll take you to him
in my boat. Come Mr. Herder, -- I don't want you, Rose; I'll
take nobody but Mr. Herder; -- we'll go after him."

She ran for her bonnet, seized her oars, and drew Mr. Herder
with her down to the rocks.

It was a soft grey day; pleasant boating at that or at any
hour, the sun was so obscured with light clouds. Elizabeth
seated Mr. Herder in the stern of the 'Merry-go-round,' and
pulled out lightly into the bay; he very much amused with her
water-craft.

They presently caught sight of the other boat, moored a little
distance out from the land, behind a point.

"There he is!" -- said Mr. Herder. "But what is he doing? He is
not fishing. Row your boat soft, Miss Elisabet' -- hush! -- do
not speak wiz your -- what is it you call? -- We will catch him
-- we have the wind -- unless he be like a wild duck --"

Winthrop's boat lay still upon the sleepy water, -- his fishing
rod dipped its end lazily in, -- the cork floated at rest; and
the fisher seated in his boat, was giving his whole attention
seemingly to something in his boat. Very softly and pretty
skilfully they stole up.

He had something of the wild duck about him; for before they
could get more than near at hand, he had looked up, looked
round, and risen to greet them. By his help the boats were
laid close alongside of each other; and while Winthrop and Mr.
Herder were shaking hands across them, Elizabeth quietly
leaned over into the stern of the fishing-boat and took up one
or two books which lay there. The first proved to be an ill-
bound, ill printed, Greek _and Latin_ dictionary; the other was
a Homer! Elizabeth laid them down again greatly amazed, and
wondering what kind of people she had got among.

"What brings you here now, Mr. Herder?" said Winthrop. "Have
you come to look after the American Eagle?"

"Ha! -- no -- I have not come to look after no eagle; -- and yet
I do not know -- I have come to see you, and I do not know what
you will turn to be --the eagle flies high, you know."

Winthrop was preparing to tie the two boats together, and did
not answer. Mr. Herder stepped from the one he was in and took
a seat in Winthrop's. Elizabeth would not leave her own,
though she permitted Winthrop to attach it to his and to do
the rowing for both; she sat afar off among her cushions,
alone.

"I am not very gallant, Miss Elisabet'," said the naturalist;
"but if you will not come, I will not come back to you. I did
not come to see you this time -- I want to speak to this young
American Eagle."

And he settled himself comfortably with his back to Elizabeth,
and turned to talk to Winthrop, as answering to his strong arm
the two boats began to fly over the water.

"You see," he said, "I have stopped here just to see you. You
have not change your mind, I hope, about going to de
Universite?"

"No sir."

"Goot. In de Universite where I am, there is a foundation -- I
mean by that, the College has monies, that she is in right to
spend to help those students that are not quite rich enough --
if they have a leetle, she gives them a leetle more, till they
can get through and come out wiz their studies. This
Universite has a foundation; and it is full; but the President
is my friend, and he knows that I have a friend; and he said
to me that he would make room for one more, though we are very
full, and take you in; so that it will cost you very little. I
speak that, for I know that you could not wish to spend so
much as some."

It was a golden chance -- if it could but be given to Rufus!
That was not possible; and still less was it possible that
Winthrop should take it and so make his brother's case
hopeless, by swallowing up all the little means that of right
must go to set him forward first. There was a strong heaving
of motives against each other in Winthrop's bosom. But his
face did not shew it; there was no change in his cool grey
eye; after a minute's hesitation he answered, lying on his
oars,

"I thank you very much Mr. Herder -- I would do it gladly -- but
I am so tied at home that it is impossible. I cannot go."

"You can not?" said the naturalist.

"I cannot -- not at present -- my duty keeps me at home. You
will see me in Mannahatta by and by," he added with a faint
smile and beginning to row again; -- "but I don't know when."

"I wish it would be soon," said the naturalist. "I should like
to have you there wiz me. But you must not give up for
difficulties. You must come?"

"I shall come," said Winthrop.

"How would you like this?" said Mr. Herder after pondering a
little. "I have a friend who is an excellent -- what you call
him? -- bookseller -- Would you like a place wiz him, to keep
his books and attend to his business, for a while, and so get
up by degrees? I could get you a place wiz him."

"No, sir," said Winthrop smiling; -- "the eagle never begins by
being something else."

"Dat is true," said the naturalist. "Well -- I wish I could do
you some goot, but you will not let me; -- and I trust you that
you are right."

"You are a good friend, sir," said Winthrop gratefully.

"Well -- I mean to be," said the other, nodding his good-
humoured head.

Elizabeth was too far off to hear any of this dialogue; and
she was a little astonished again when they reached the land
to see her boatman grasp her friend's hand and give it a very
hearty shake.

"I shall never forget it, sir," she heard Winthrop say.

"I do not wish that," said the naturalist. "What for should
you remember it? it is good for nozing."

"Is that boy studying Latin and Greek?" said Elizabeth as she
and Mr. Herder walked up to the house together.

"That boy? That boy is a very smart boy."

"But is he studying Greek?"

"What makes you ask so?"

"Because there was a Greek book and a dictionary there in the
boat with him."

"Then I suppose he is studying it," said Mr. Herder.

Elizabeth changed her mind and agreed to go with the huckle-
berry party; but she carried a book with her and sat in a
corner with it, seldom giving her eyes to anything beside.

Yet there was enough on every hand to call them away. The soft
grey sky and grey water, the deep heavy-green foliage of the
banks, and the fine quiet outlines of the further mountains,
set off by no brilliant points of light and shade, -- made a
picture rare in its kind of beauty. Its colouring was not the
cold grey of the autumn, only a soft mellow chastening of
summer's gorgeousness. A little ripple on the water, -- a
little fleckiness in the cloud, -- a quiet air; it was one of
summer's choice days, when she escapes from the sun's fierce
watch and sits down to rest herself. But Elizabeth's eyes, if
they wavered at all, were called off by some burst of the
noisy sociability of the party, in which she deigned not to
share. Her cousin, Mr. Herder, Rufus, Asahel, and Winifred,
were in full cry after pleasure; and a cheery hunt they made
of it.

"Miss Elisabet' does look grave at us," said the naturalist, --
"she is the only one wise of us all; she does nothing but
read. What are you reading, Miss Elisabet'?"

"Something you don't know, Mr. Herder."

"O it's only a novel," said her cousin; "she reads nothing but
novels."

"That's not true, Rose Cadwallader, and you know it."

"A novel!" said Mr. Herder. "Ah! -- yes -- that is what the
ladies read -- they do not trouble themselves wiz ugly big
dictionaries -- they have easy times."

He did not mean any reproof; but Elizabeth's cheek coloured
exceedingly and for several minutes kept its glow; and though
her eyes still held to the book, her mind had lost it.

The boat coasted along the shore, down to the head of the bay,
where the huckleberry region began; and then drew as close in
to the bank as possible. No more was necessary to get at the
fruit, for the bushes grew down to the very water's edge and
hung over, black with berries, though us Asahel remarked, a
great many of them were _blue_. Everybody had baskets, and now
the fun was to hold the baskets under and fill them from the
overhanging bunches as fast as they could; though in the case
of one or two of the party the more summary way of carrying
the bushes off bodily seemed to be preferred.

"And this is huckle-berry," said Mr. Herder, with a bush in
his hand and a berry in his mouth. "Well -- it is sweet -- a
little; -- it is not goot for much."