! -- Where are you going?"

"Home, sir," -- said Winthrop returning the grasp of his
friend's hand.

"How is all wiz you?"

"As usual, sir."

"Wint'rop -- what is de matter wiz you?"

"Nothing! --" said Winthrop.

"I know better!" said the naturalist, -- "and I know what it
is, too. Here -- I will give you some work to do one of these
days and then I will pay you the rest."

And shaking Winthrop's hand again, the philosopher dashed on.
But Winthrop's hand was not empty when his friend's had
quitted it; to his astonishment he found a roll of bills left
in it, and to his unbounded astonishment found they were bills
to the amount of three hundred dollars.

If he was in any sort of a study as he paced the rest of his
way home, it was not a brown study; and if his steps were
slow, it was not that they flagged any more. It had come in
time; it was just what was needed; and it was enough to keep
him on, till he should be admitted to the bar and might edge
off his craft from her moorings to feel the wind and tide
'that lead on to fortune.' Winthrop never doubted of catching
both; as little did he doubt now of being able some time to
pay back principal and interest to his kind friend. He went
home with a lighter heart. But he had never let Winnie know of
his troubles, and could not for the same reason talk to her of
this strange relief.

Thinking so, he went up the stairs and opened the door of his
and her sitting-room. The sun was down by that time, and the
evening light was failing. The table stood ready for tea;
Winnie had all the windows open to let in the freshening air
from the sea, which was beginning to make head against the
heats and steams of the city; herself sat on the couch, away
from the windows, and perhaps her attitude might say, away
from everything pleasant. Winthrop came silently up and put a
little basket in her hand.

"Oh! --" Winnie sprang forward with an accent of joy, --
"Strawberries! -- Beautiful! and so sweet! O Winthrop, aren't
they sweet! -- how good they will be."

"I hope so," said he. "How are you?"

"O -- I'm well," said Winnie. "How big they are -- and fresh.
They do smell so sweet, don't they, Governor?"

Winthrop thought they were not so fresh nor so sweet as those
which grew in the Bright Spot under Wut-a-qut-o; but he didn't
remind Winnie of that. He smiled at her, as she was picking
over her basket of strawberries with an eager hand. Yet when
Winnie had got to the bott