Hills of the Shatemuc Part 104

"Always did," said Clam with a slight arch of her eyebrows, -- "always shall. Best get him to manage it, Miss 'Lizabeth -- he can do it quicker'n anybody else -- for me, -- and I dare say he would for you."

"I don't believe you ever were put in order," said Elizabeth, -- "to stay."

"I didn't use to do a wrong thing as long as he was in the house!" said Clam. "Didn't want to. -- You wouldn't neither, if you was in the house with him."

"What do you mean by Mrs. Landholm's getting her face straight when he came? -- was'nt it always so?"

"'Twa'n't always _so_," said Clam, -- "for when he come, half the wrinkles went away, and the grey hairs all turned black again."

There came such a pang to Elizabeth's heart, such a gush to her eyes, that she hid her face on her knees and heard nothing of what her handmaid said for a long time after. If Clam talked, she had the talk all to herself; and when Elizabeth at last raised her head, her handmaiden was standing on the other side of the fireplace looking at her, and probably making up her mind that she wanted 'fixing' very much. There was no further discussion of the subject, however; for Miss Haye immediately called for her bonnet and veil, wrapped herself in a light scarf and went out. The door had hardly closed upon her when the bell rang again, and she came running up-stairs to her room.

"Clam, get me the newspaper."

"What news, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"All the newspapers -- every one you can find; -- yesterday's and to-day's, or the day before."

Much wondering, Clam hunted the house and brought the fruits of her search; and much more wondering, she saw her mistress spend one hour in closely poring over the columns of page after page; she who never took five minutes a day to read the papers. At last a little bit was carefully cut from one of those Clam had brought up, and Elizabeth again prepared herself to go forth.

"If it had been Mr. Winthrop, now, who was doing that," said Clam, "he'd have took off his hat most likely, and sat down to it. How you do look, Miss 'Lizabeth!"

"Mr. Winthrop and I are two different people," said Elizabeth, hurriedly putting on the one glove she had drawn off.

"Must grow a little more like before you'll be one and the same," observed Clam.

Elizabeth let down her veil over her face and went out again.

With a quick nervous step she went, though the day was warm, making no delay and suffering no interruption; till she reached the University where Professor Herder made his daily and nightly abode. The professor was attending one of his cla.s.ses. Elizabeth asked to be shewn to his room.

She felt as if she was on a queer errand, as she followed her conductor up the wide stone stairs and along the broad corridors, where the marks were evidently of only man's use and habitation, and now and then a man's whistle or footstep echoed from the distance through the halls. But she went on swiftly, from one corridor to another, till the guide opened a door and she stepped out from the public haunts of life to a bit of quite seclusion.

It was a pleasant enough place that Mr. Herder called home. A large, airy, light, high-ceiled apartment, where plainly even to a stranger's eye, the naturalist had grouped and bestowed around him all the things he best liked to live among.

Enormous gla.s.s cases, filled with the ill.u.s.trations of science, and not less of the philosopher's investigating patience, lined all the room; except where dark-filled shelves of books ran up between them from the floor to the ceiling. A pleasant cloth-covered table, with books and philosophical instruments, stood towards one side of the room, a little table with a lamp at the other; and scattered about, all over, were big stout comfortable well-worn leather arm-chairs, that said study and learning sat easy there and often received visits of pleasure in that room. Elizabeth felt herself as little akin to pleasure as to learning or study, just then.

She put herself in one of the great leather chairs, with a sense of being out of her element -- a little piece of busy, bustling, practical life, within the very palings of science and wisdom.

She sat and waited. But that pulse of busy life beat never the cooler for all the cool aspect of the place and the grave shade of wisdom that lingered there; nay, it throbbed faster and more flutteringly. She got up to try the power of distraction the gla.s.s cases might hold; but her eye roved restlessly and carelessly over object and object of interest that withheld its interest from her; and weariedly she went back to her arm-chair and covered her face with her hands, that her mind might be at least uninterruptedly busy in its own way.

It must have been very busy, or the quick little step of the German professor must have been very soft withal; for he had come within a few feet of her before he knew who she was or she knew that he was there.

"Miss Elisabet'!" he exclaimed with a most good-humoured face of wonderment, -- "I never was so honoured before! How did you get in my arm-chair?"

Elizabeth jumped up and shook hands with him, laughing in very relief to see him come.

"How did I get here? -- I came up through the sun, Mr. Herder."

"I have asked you to come in better time," said the naturalist, -- "that is, better for you -- dis is very good time for me. I have nozing to do, and I will give you lesson in whatever you want."

"No sir, -- I am come to give _you_ a lesson, Mr. Herder."

"_Me?_ Well, I will take it," said the naturalist, who began at the same time to run about his room and open closet doors and jingle gla.s.ses together, apparently on his own business, -- "I like always to take lessons, -- it is not often that I have such a teacher. I will learn the best I can -- after I have got you some lemonade. I have two lemons here, -- somevere, -- ah! -- "

"I don't want it, Mr. Herder."

"I cannot learn nozing till you have had it," said Mr. Herder bringing his lemons and gla.s.ses to the table; -- "that sun is beating my head what was beating yours, and it cannot think of nozing till I have had something to cool him off. --"

Elizabeth sat still, and looked, and thought, with her heart beating.

"I did not know what was in my room when I see you in my chair wiz your head down -- you must be study more hard than me, Miss Elisabet' -- I never put my head down, for nozing."

"Nor your heart either, I wonder?" thought Elizabeth.

"I _was_ studying, Mr. Herder, -- pretty hard."

"Is that what you are going to give me to study?" said the naturalist.

"Not exactly -- it was something about it. I want you to do something for me, Mr. Herder, -- if I may ask you, -- and if you will be so very kind as to take some trouble for me."

"I do not like trouble," said the naturalist shaking his head good-humouredly over a squeeze of his lemon; -- "dere is no use in having trouble -- I get out of it so soon as I can -- but I will get in it wiz pleasure for you, Miss Elisabet' -- what you tell me -- if you will tell me if that is too much sucker."

"To take trouble, and to be _in_ trouble, are not quite the same thing, Mr. Herder," said Elizabeth, having at the moment a vivid realization of the difference.

"I thought trouble was trouble," said the naturalist, finis.h.i.+ng the preparing his own gla.s.s of lemonade. "If you will lesson me to find trouble is no trouble -- Miss Elisabet'

-- I will thank you much for that."

Elizabeth heartily wished anybody could teach her that particular lesson. She sipped her lemonade, slowly and abstractedly, busy yet with the study which Mr. Herder had broken off; while he talked benignly and kindly, to ears that did not hear. But the last of Elizabeth's gla.s.s was swallowed hastily and the gla.s.s set down.

"Mr. Herder, I have come to ask you to do something for me."

"I am honoured, Miss Elisabet'," said the philosopher bowing.

"Will you not speak of it to anybody?"

"Not speak of it!" said the naturalist. "Then it is a secret?"

The quick energetic little bend of Elizabeth's head said before her lips spoke the word, "Yes!"

"It is more honour yet," he said. "What am I to do, Miss Elisabet'?"

"Nothing, if it will be any real trouble to you, Mr. Herder.

Promise me that first."

"Promise? -- what shall I promise?" said Mr. Herder.

"Promise me that if what I am going to ask would be any real trouble to you or to your business, you will tell me so."

"I do not love to be troubled," said the naturalist. "It shall not be no trouble to me."

"But promise me that you will tell me, Mr. Herder."