"What are you going to do?"
"I would find a way out of this house, if I knew how."
"That"s easy enough," said Rose with a slight sneer. "There are plenty of ways."
"Easy enough, --if one could find the right one."
"Why you"ve had me in the house a great while, already," said Rose.
"I _have had_ --" said Elizabeth. -- "I wonder if I shall ever have anything again!"
"Why what have you lost?"
"Everything -- except myself."
"You have a great respect for Mr. Haye," said Rose.
"I had."
Rose at this point thought fit to burst into a great fit of tears. Elizabeth stood by the table, taking up and putting down one book after another, as if the touch of them gave her fingers pain; and looking as if, as she said, she had lost everything. Then stood with folded arms eyeing something that was not before her; and then slowly walked out of the room.
"Lizzie --" said Rose.
"What?" said Elizabeth stopping at the door.
"What"s the use of taking things so?"
"The use of necessity."
"But we can be just as we were before."
Elizabeth went on and gained her own room; and there she and pain had a fight that lasted the rest of the day.
The fight was not over, and weary traces of it were upon her face, when late in the afternoon she went out to try the change of a walk. The walk made no change whatever. As she was coming up the Parade, she was met by Winthrop going down. If he had seen only the gravity and reserve of the morning, it is probable he would not have stopped to speak to her; but though those were in her face still, there was beside a weary set of the brow and sorrowful line of the lips, very unwonted there, and the cheeks were pale; and instead of pa.s.sing with a mere bow he came up and offered his hand. Elizabeth took it, but without the least brightening of face.
"Are you out for a walk?" said he.
"No -- I am for home -- I have had a walk."
"It is a very fine afternoon," said he, turning and beginning to walk along slowly with her.
"Is it?"
"Haven"t you found out that it is?"
"No."
"Where have you been, not to know it?"
"Hum --" said Elizabeth, -- "if you mean where my _mind_ has been, that is one question; as for my bodily self, I have been on the Castle Green."
"You have lost your walk," said he. "Don"t you feel inclined to turn about with me and try to pick up what you came out for?"
"Better there than at home," thought Elizabeth, and she turned about accordingly.
"People come out for a variety of things," she remarked however.
"That is true," said Winthrop smiling. "I am afraid I was hasty in presuming I could help you to find your object. I was thinking only of mine."
"I don"t know but you could, as well as anybody," said Elizabeth. "If you could give me your mother"s secret for not minding disagreeable things."
"I am afraid I cannot say she does not mind them," he answered.
"What then? -- I thought you said so."
"I do not remember what I said. I might have said that she does not struggle with them -- those at least which cannot be removed by struggling."
"Not struggle with them?" said Elizabeth. "Sit down quietly with them!"
"Yes," he said gravely. "Not at first, but at last."
"I don"t believe in it," said Elizabeth. "That is, I don"t believe in it as a general thing. It may be possible for her.
I am sure it never could be for me."
Winthrop was silent, and they walked so for the s.p.a.ce of half a block.
"Would she say that it is possible for everybody?" inquired Elizabeth then.
"I believe she would say that it is not temperament, nor circ.u.mstance, nor stoical philosophy."
"What then?"
"A drop of some pacifying oil out of a heaven-wrought chalice."
"I don"t think figures are the easiest mode of getting at things, Mr. Landholm. You don"t make this clear."
He smiled a little, as he pushed open the little wicket gate of the Green, and without saying anything more they sauntered in, along the broad gravel walk sweeping round the enclosure; slowly, till they had pa.s.sed the fortifications and stood looking upon the bay over towards Blue Point. The sun was almost on the low ruddied horizon; a stirring north breeze came down from the up country, roughening the bay, and the sunbeams leapt across from the opposite western sh.o.r.e giving a touch of light to every wave. The air was very fine; the sky without a cloud, except some waiting flecks of vapour around the sun. The two friends stood still some little time, to look or to think; looking especially at the fair glowing western heaven, and the tossing water between, every roll of which was with a dance and a sparkle.
"Does _this_ make anything clear?" asked Winthrop, when some time had gone by without speech or movement from either of them.
He spoke lightly enough; but the answer was given in a tone that bespoke its truth.
"Oh no! --"
And Elizabeth"s face was turned away so that he could see nothing but her bonnet, beside the tremulous swell of the throat; that he _did_ see.
"It has very often such an effect for me," -- he went on in the same tone. "And I often come here for the very purpose of trying it; when my head gets thick over law-papers."