id Elizabeth with a concentrated power of
expression. "Oh I wish you had done anything, before my father
had lowered himself in my eyes and you had been the cause! --"

"I'm not the cause of anything," said Rose.

Elizabeth did not answer; she was crouching by the side of the
chair in an uneasy position that said how far from ease the
spirit was.

"And he hasn't lowered himself," Rose went on pouting.

"It is done!" -- said Elizabeth, getting up from the floor and
standing, not unlike a lightning-struck tree. -- "I wonder what
will become of me! --"

"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 passing 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