n will I go."

"What do you mean, Clam!"

"You said call you any name I liked -- and I like that 'bout as
well as any one," said Clam sturdily.

"But it isn't my name."

"I wish 'twas," said Clam; -- "no, I don' know as I do,
neither; but it comes kind o' handy."

"Make some other serve your turn," said Elizabeth gravely. "Go
up this afternoon, and say I don't want you and shall be most
happy if you can be of any service to Miss Winifred."

"Or Mr. Winthrop --" said Clam. "I'll do all I can for both of
'em, Miss 'Lizabeth."

She was not permitted to do much. She went and stayed a night
and a day, and served well; but Winifred did not like her
company, and at last confessed to Winthrop that she could not
bear to have her about. It was of no use to reason the matter;
and Clam was sent home. The answer to Elizabeth's note came
just before her handmaiden, by some other conveyance.

"Little South St. Dec. 21, 1821.

"Your note, Miss Haye, has put me in some difficulty, but
after a good deal of consideration I have made up my mind to
allow the 'right' you claim. It is your right, and I have no
right to deprive you of it. Yet the difficulty reaches further
still; for without details, which you waive, the result which
you wish to know must stand upon my word alone. I dislike
exceedingly it should so stand; but I am constrained here also
to admit, that if you choose to trust me rather than have the
trouble of the accounts, it is just that you should have your
choice.

"My brother's owing to Mr. Haye, for which he is held
responsible, is in the sum of eleven hundred and forty-one
dollars.

"I have the honour to be, with great respect,

"Winthrop Landholm."

Elizabeth read and re-read.

"It is very polite -- it is very handsome -- nothing could be
clearer from any shadow of implications or insinuations -- no,
nor of anything but 'great respect' either," she said to
herself. "It's very good of him to trust and understand me and
give me just what I want, without any palaver. _That_ isn't like
common people, any more. Well, my note wasn't, either. But he
hasn't said a word but _just_ what was necessary. -- Well, why
should he? --"

She looked up and saw Clam.

"What's brought you back again?"

"I don' know," said Clam. "My two feet ha' brought me, but I
don' know what sent me."

"Why did you come then?"

"'Cause I had to," said Clam. "Nothin' else wouldn't ha' made
me. I told you it was good livin'