a cry of pain, and the flood of sorrow broke; so
bitter, that she sometimes pressed both hands to her head, as
if it were in danger of parting in two. The proud forehead was
stooped to the knees, and the shoulders convulsed in her
agony. And it lasted long. Half hour and half hour passed
before the struggle was over and Elizabeth had quieted herself
enough to go to bed. When at last she rose to begin the
business of undressing, she startled not a little to see her
handmaid Clam present herself.

"When did you come in?" said Elizabeth after a moment's
hesitation.

"When the door opened," said Clam collectedly.

"How long ago?"

"How long have you been here, do you s'pose, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"That's not an answer to my question."

"Not ezackly," said Clam; "but if you'd tell, I could give a
better guess."

Elizabeth kept a vexed silence for a little while.

"Well Clam," she said when she had made up her mind, "I have
just one word to say to you -- keep your tongue between your
teeth about all _my_ concerns. You are quite wise enough, and I
hope, good enough for that."

"I ain't so bad I mightn't be better," said Clam picking up
her mistress's scattered things. "Mr. Winthrop didn't give up
all hopes of me. I 'spect he'll bring us all right some of
these days."

With which sentence, delivered in a most oracular and
encouraging tone, Clam departed; for Elizabeth made no answer
thereto.

The next morning, after having securely locked herself into
her room for an hour or more, Elizabeth summoned her handmaid.

"I want you to put on your bonnet, Clam, and take this note
for me up to Mr. Landholm's; and give it with your own hand to
him or to his sister."

Clam rather looked her intelligence than gave any other sign
of it.

"If he's out, shall I wait till I see him?"

"No, -- give it to his sister."

"I may put on more than my bonnet, mayn't I, Miss 'Lizabeth?
_This_ won't keep me warm, with the snow on the ground."

But Elizabeth did not choose to hear; and Clam went off with
the note.

Much against her expectations, she found Mr. Winthrop at home
and in his room, and his sister not there.

"Mornin', Mr. Winthrop!" said Clam, with more of a courtesy
than she ever vouchsafed to her mistress or to any one else
whomsoever. He came forward and shook her hand very kindly and
made her sit down by the fire. The black girl's eyes followed
him, as if, though she didn't say it, it was good to see him
again.