o see her
dressmaker, who lives just beyond here a little; and father
had the horses. It was so pleasant an afternoon, I had no
notion of a storm."

"There's a pretty good notion of a storm now," said Winthrop.

So there was, beyond a doubt; the rain was falling in floods,
and the lightning and thunder, though not very near, were very
unceasing. Elizabeth still felt awkward and uneasy, and did
not know what to talk about. She never had talked much to Mr.
Landholm; and his cool matter-of-fact way of answering her
remarks, puzzled or baffled her.

"That child sitting there makes me very uncomfortable," she
said presently.

"Why, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth hesitated, and then said she did not know.

"You don't like the verification of my setting forth of life,"
he said smiling.

"But _that_ is not life, Mr. Winthrop."

"What is it?"

"It is the experience of one here and there -- not of people in
general."

"What do you take to be the experience of people in general?"

"Not mine, to be sure," said Elizabeth after a little thought,
-- "nor hers."

"Hers is a light shade of what rests upon many."

"Why Mr. Winthrop! do you think so?"

"Look at her," he said in a low voice; -- "she has forgotten
her empty basket in a sweet fig."

"But she must take it up again."

"She won't lessen her burden, but she will her power of
forgetting."

Elizabeth sat still, looking at her vis-a-vis of life, and
feeling very uneasily what she had never felt before. She
began therewith to ponder sundry extraordinary propositions
about the inequalities of social condition and the relative
duties of man to man.

"What right have I," she said suddenly, "to so much more than
she has?"

"Very much the sort of right that I have to be an American,
while somebody else is a Chinese."

"Chance," said Elizabeth.

"No, there is no such thing as chance," he said seriously.

"What then?"

"The fruit of industry, talent, and circumstance."

"Not mine."

"No, but your father's, who gives it to you."

"But why ought I to enjoy more than she does? -- in the
abstract, I mean."

"I don't know," said Winthrop. -- "I guess we had better walk on
now, Miss Elizabeth."

"Walk on! -- it rains too hard."

"But we are in the shed, while other people are out?"

"No but, -- suppose that by going out I could bring them in?"

"Then I would certainly act as your messenger," he said
smiling. "But you can't reach _all_ the people who a