self in front of the window, and there forgot what she had
to do. It was a fine afternoon of October, late in the day. It
was very fair outside. The hills touched here and there in
their green with a frost-spot -- yellow, or tawny, or red; the
river water lying very calm; and a calm sky over-head; the air
as pure as though vapours and mists were refined away for
ever. The distant trees of the woodland shewed in round
distinct masses of foliage, through such an atmosphere; the
rocky shore edge cut sharp against the water; the nearer
cedars around the home valley seemed to tell their individual
leaves. Here and there in some one of them a Virginia
creeper's luxuriant wreaths were colouring with suspicious
tokens of crimson. Not in their full brilliancy yet, the trees
and the vine-leaves were in fair preparation; and fancy could
not imagine them more fair than they looked that afternoon.

"So bright without! -- and so dark within!" -- Elizabeth
thought. "When will it end -- or is it only beginning? Such a
flood of brightness was over me a little while ago, -- and now,
there is one burden in one room, and another in another room,
and I myself am the greatest burden of all. Because my life
has nothing to look forward to -- in this world -- and heaven is
not enough; I want something in this world. -- Yes, I do. -- Yet
Winthrop Landholm has nothing more than I have, in this
world's things, and he don't feel like me. What is the reason?
Why is his face _always_ so at rest, -- so bright -- so strong?
Ah, it must be that he is so much better than I! -- he _has_
more, not of this world's things; religion is something to him
that it is not to me; he must love his Master far better than
I do. -- Then religion might be more to me. -- It shall be -- I
will try; -- but oh! if I had never seen another Christian in
all my life, how well his single example would make me know
that religion is a strong reality. What a reward his will be!
I wonder how many besides me he will have drawn to heaven -- he
does not dream that he has ever done me any good. Yet it is
pleasant to owe so much to him -- and it's bitter! --"

"You'll tire yourself with lookin', Miss 'Lizabeth," said Clam
behind her. "Mannahatta ain't so far off as that."

Elizabeth started a little from her fixed attitude and began
to handle her dressing-comb.

"'Taint so far folks can't get here, I guess."

"Clam!" -- said her mistress facing about.

"Well, Miss Lizzie --"