_Sir Toby_. Do not our lives consist of the four elements?
_Sir And._ 'Faith, so they say, but, I think, it rather consists
of eating and drinking.
TWELFTH NIGHT.
"Dear, Mr. Winthrop, -- what makes all this smoke here?"
exclaimed Mrs. Nettley one morning, as she opened the door of
his attic.
"I suppose, the wind, Mrs. Nettley," said Winthrop looking up
from the book he was studying.
"O dear! -- how do you manage?"
"I can't manage the smoke, Mrs. Nettley -- Its resources exceed
mine."
"It's that chimney!" exclaimed the good lady, standing and
eyeing it in a sort of desperate concern, as if she would
willingly have gone up the flue herself, so that only she
could thereby have secured the smoke's doing the same. "I
always knew that chimney was bad -- I had it once a while
myself -- I'm sorry you've got it now. What _do_ you do, Mr.
Winthrop?"
"The smoke and I take turns in going out, Mrs. Nettley."
"Eh? -- Does it often come in so? Can't you help it?"
"It generally takes advice with the wind, not with me, ma'am."
"But the chimney might have better advice. I'll get George to
fetch a doctor -- I had forgotten it was so bad, I had quite
forgotten it, and you never say a word -- Mr. Landholm, you
never come to see us."
"I have so much else to see," he said, glancing at his book.
"Yes, and that reminds me -- Have you heard the news?"
"I have heard none to-day."
"Then you heard it yesterday, -- of course you did; but I hear
so little, when anything comes to me that's new I always think
it must be new to everybody else. But of course _you_ must know
it, as it is about friends of yours; I dare say you knew it
long ago; -- though such things are kept close sometimes, even
from friends; and I somehow was surprised to hear this, though
I had no right to be, for I suppose I had no reason for my
fancy. I think a good many things I have no reason for, George
thinks. Maybe I do. I cant help it."
"But what is the thing in this case, Mrs. Nettley?" said
Winthrop smiling.
"Why George told me -- don't you know? I was a little
disappointed, Mr. Winthrop."
"Why?"
"Why, I had a fancy things were going another way."
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"That's because I talk so ill -- It's this piece of news George
brought home yesterday -- he was dining out, for a wonder, with
this gentleman who is going to sit to him; I forget his name,
-- Mr. -- I don't know what it is! -- but I am foolish to talk
about it. Won't you come down and take a cup of tea with us
to-night, Mr. Landholm? that's what I came up to ask, and not
to stand interrupting you. But you've quite forgotten us
lately."
"Thank you, Mrs. Nettley, I'll come with great pleasure -- on
condition that you tell me your news."
"The news? O it's no news to you -- it's only this about Miss
Haye."
"What about Miss Haye?"
"They say that she is going to get married, to a Mr.
Cadwallader, George said. Her cousin I suppose; there is a
cousinship of that name, isn't there, Mr. Landholm?"
Mr. Landholm bowed.
"And had you heard of it before?"
"No, I had not."
"And is it a good match? She is a fine girl, isn't she?"
"I know really nothing of the matter, Mrs. Nettley -- I have
never seen the gentleman."
"Really! Haven't you? -- then it _was_ news," said the lady. "I
thought you were accustomed to see them so often -- I didn't
think I was telling you anything. George and I -- you must
forgive us, Mr. Winthrop, people will have such thoughts; they
will come in, and you cannot help it -- I don't know what's to
keep 'em out, unless one could put bars and gates upon one's
minds, and you can't well do that; -- but George and I used to
have suspicions of you, Mr. Landholm. Well, I have interrupted
you long enough. Dear! what windows! I'm ashamed. I'll send
the girl up, the first chance you are out of the house. I told
her to come up too; but she is heedless. I haven't been to see
'em myself in I don't know how many days; but you're always so
terribly busy -- and now I've staid twice too long!" --
And away she hurried, softly closing the door after her.
Mr. Landholm's quiet study was remarkably quiet for a good
while after she went out. No leaf of his book rustled over;
not a foot of his chair grated on the floor, -- for though the
floor did boast a bit of carpet, it lay not where he sat, by
the window; and the coals and firebrands fell noiselessly down
into the ashes and nobody was reminded that the fire would
burn itself out in time if it was let alone. The morning light
grew stronger, and the sunbeams that never got there till
between nine and ten o'clock, walked into the room; and they
found Winthrop Landholm with his elbow on the table and his
head in his hand, where they often were; but with his eyes
where they _not_ often were -- on the floor. The sunbeams said
very softly that it was time to be at the office, but they
said it very softly, and Winthrop did not hear them.
He heard however presently a footstep on the stair, in the
next story at first, and then mounting the uppermost flight
that led to the attic. A heavy brisk energetic footstep, -- not
Mrs. Nettley's soft and slow tread, nor the more deliberate
one of her brother. Winthrop listened a moment, and then as
the last impatient creak of the boot stopped at his threshold
he knew who would open the door. It was Rufus.
"_Here_ you are. Why I expected to find you at the office!" was
the first cheery exclamation, after the brothers had clasped
hands.
"What did you come here to find, then?" said Winthrop.
"Room for my carpet-bag, in the first place; and a pair of
slippers, and comfort. It's stinging weather, Governor!"
"I know it. I came down the river the night before last."
"I shouldn't think you knew it, for you've let your fire go
down confoundedly. Why Winthrop! there's hardly a spark here!
What have you been thinking about?"
"I was kindling the fire, mentally," said Winthrop.
"Mentally! -- where's your kindling? -- I can tell you! -- if you
had been out in this air you'd want some breath of material
flame, before you could set any other agoing. And I am afraid
_this_ isn't enough -- or won't be, -- I want some fuel for
another sort of internal combustion -- some of my Scotchman's
haggis."
And Rufus stopped to laugh, with a very funny face, in the
midst of his piling chips and brands together.
"Haggis?" said Winthrop.
"Yes. -- There was a good fellow of a Scotchman in the stage
with me last night -- he had the seat just behind me -- and he
and a brother Scotchman were discoursing valiantly of old
world things; warming themselves up with the recollection. --
Winthrop, have you got a bit of paper here? -- And I heard the
word 'haggis' over and over again, --'haggis' and 'parritch.'
At last I turned round gravely -- 'Pray sir,' said I, 'what _is_
a haggis?' 'Weel, sir,' said he good-humouredly, -- 'I don't
just know the ingredients -- it's made of meal, -- and onions, I
believe, --and other combustibles!!' -- Winthrop, have you got
any breakfast in the house?"
"Not much in the combustible line, I am afraid," said
Winthrop, putting up his books and going to the closet.
"Well if you can enact Mother Hubbard and 'give a poor dog a
bone,' I shall be thankful, -- for anything."
"I am afraid hunger has perverted your memory," said Winthrop.
"How?"
"If the cupboard should play its part now, the dog would go
without any."
"O you'll do better for me than that, I hope," said Rufus;
"for I couldn't go on enacting the dog's part long; he took to
laughing, if I remember, and I should be beyond that
directly."
"Does that ever happen?" said Winthrop, as he brought out of
the cupboard his bits of stores; a plate with the end of a
loaf of bread, a little pitcher of milk, and another plate
with some remains of cold beefsteak. For all reply, Rufus
seized upon a piece of bread, to begin with, and thrusting a
fork into the beefsteak, he held it in front of the just-
burning firebrands. Winthrop stood looking on, while Rufus,
the beefsteak, and the smoke, seemed mutually intent upon each
other. It was a question of time, and patience; not to speak
of fortitude.
"Winthrop," said Rufus changing hands with his fork, -- "have
you any coffee?"
"No sir."
"Tea?"
"No."
"Out of both?"
"For some time."
"Do you live without it?"
"I live without it."
"Without either of them?"
"Without either of them."
"Then how in the world _do_ you live?" said Rufus turning his
beefsteak in a very gingerly manner and not daring to take his
eyes from it.
"Without combustibles -- as I told you."
"I should think so!" exclaimed his brother. "You are the
coolest, toughest, most stubborn and unimpressible piece of
sensibility, that ever lived in a garret and deserved to live
-- somewhere else."
"Doubtful strain of commendation," said Winthrop. "What has
brought you to Mannahatta?"
"But Winthrop, this is a new fancy of yours?"
"No, not very."
"How long since?"
"Since what?"
"Since you gave up all the good things of this life?"
"A man can only give up what he has," said Winthrop. "Those I
delivered into your hands some ten minutes ago."
"But tea and coffee -- You used to drink them?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you?"
"For a variety of reasons, satisfactory to my own mind."
"And have you abjured butter too?"
"I am sorry, Will," said Winthrop smiling a little, -- "I will
try to have some butter for you to-morrow."
"Don't you eat it in ordinary?"
"Always, when I can get it. What has brought you to
Mannahatta?"
"What do you think?"
"Some rash scheme or resolution."
"Why?"
"From my judgment of your character, which might be stated as
the converse of that just now so happily applied to me."
"And do natures the opposite of that never act otherwise than
rashly?"
"I hope so; for as the coolest are sometimes excited, so the
hot may be sometimes cool."
"And don't I look cool?"
"You did when you came in," said Winthrop.
"I should think living on bread and milk might help that, in
ordinary," said Rufus. "Just in my present condition it has
rather a different effect. Well Governor, I've come to
Mannahatta --"
"I see that," said Winthrop.
"I'll thank you not to interrupt me. I've come to Mannahatta --
on a piece of business."
Winthrop waited, and Rufus after another cut of the bread and
meat, went on.
"Governor, I'm going to quit engineering and take to another
mode of making money."
"Have you done with your last piece of work at the West?"
"No -- I'm going back there to finish it. O, I'm going back
there -- I've only come here now to sign some papers and make
some arrangements; I shall come finally, I suppose, about May,
or April. I've been corresponding with Haye lately."
"About what?"
"About this! What should I correspond with him about? By the
way, what an infernal piece of folly this marriage is!"
"Not mixed up with your business, is it?"
"No, of course; how should it? but I am tremendously
surprised. Aren't you?"
"People of my temperament never are, you know."
"People of your temperament -- have a corner for their
thoughts," said Rufus. "Well, there's one chance gone for you,
Governor."
"Which it does not appear that I ever had."
"No indeed, that's very true. Well, about my business. -- Haye
has advocated my leaving the country and coming here. And he
knows what he is about, Winthrop; he is a capital man of
business. He says he can put me in a way of doing well for
myself in a very short time here, and he recommended my
coming."
"What's his object?" said Winthrop.
"What's his object?"
"Yes."
"How should I know! He wants to serve me, I suppose; and I
believe he has kindliness enough for me, to be not unwilling
to get me in the same place of business with himself."
"What will he do for you?"
"This, to begin with. He has a quantity of cotton lying in his
stores, which he offers to make over to me, upon a certain
valuation. And I shall ship it to Liverpool, as he
recommends."
"Have you got your money from the North Lyttleton company?"
"No, nor from anybody else; -- not yet; but it's coming."
"Is this purchase of cotton to be executed immediately?"
"Immediately. That's what I have come down for."
"How are you to pay Mr. Haye?"
"By bills upon the consignees."
"Does the purchase swallow up all your means?"
"None of them," said Rufus impatiently. "I tell you, it is to
be consummated by drawing bills in Haye's favour upon the
consignees -- Fleet, Norton & Co."
"Suppose the consignment don't pay?"
"It _will_ pay, of course! Don't you suppose Haye knows what he
is about?"
"Yes; but that don't satisfy me, unless I know it too."
"_I_ do," said Rufus. "He takes an interest in me for my
father's sake; and I think I may say without vanity, for my
own; and he is willing to do me a kindness, which he can do
without hurting himself. That is all; and very simple."
"Too simple," said Winthrop.
"What do you mean?"
"What are you going to do when you come here?"
"Look after my in-comings; and I shall probably go into Haye's
office and rub up my arithmetic in the earlier branches. What
are _you_ going to do?"
"I am going to the office, -- Mr. De Wort's."
"What to do there, Governor?"
"Read, write, and record, law and lawpapers."
"Always at the same thing!"
"Always."
"Seems a slow way of getting ahead."
"It's sure," said Winthrop.
"_You_ are sure, I believe, of whatever you undertake. By the
way -- have you undertaken the other adventure yet?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"The adventure we were talking about. -- The heiress."
"I can adventure nothing upon speculation," said Winthrop.
"Then you have not had a chance to carry out your favourite
idea of obligation. Do you know, I never should have suspected
you of having such an idea."
"Shews how much we go upon speculation even with our nearest
friends," said Winthrop.
"And how speculation fails there as elsewhere. What a fool
Haye has made of himself!"
"In what?"
"Why, in this match."
"What has he done?"
"Done! why he has done _it_. Enough, I should think. I wish his
folly stood alone."
"How do you know he has done it?"
"He told me so himself. I met him as I came along just now;
and he told me he was to be married to-morrow and would attend
to my business next day."
"Told you _who_ would?"
"He. Himself. Haye."
"Told you he was to be married?"
"Yes. Who else?"
"To whom?"
"Why! -- to his niece -- ward -- what is she? Rose Cadwallader."
"_Mr._ Haye and Miss Cadwallader!" said Winthrop.
"To be sure. What are you thinking of? What have we been
talking about?"
"You know best," said Winthrop. "My informant had brought
another person upon the stage."
"Who?"
"A Mr. Cadwallader."
"There's no such thing as a Mr. Cadwallader. It's Haye
himself; and it only shews how all a man's wisdom may be
located in one quarter of his brain and leave the other
empty."
"To-morrow?" said Winthrop.
"Yes; and you and I are invited to pay our respects at eleven.
Haven't you had an invitation?"
"I don't know -- I have been out of town -- and for the present
I must pay my respects in another direction. I must leave you,
Will."
"Look here. What's the matter with you, Winthrop?"
"Nothing at all," said Winthrop facing round upon his brother.
"Well I believe there isn't," said Rufus, taking a prolonged
look at him, -- "but somehow I was thinking -- You're a fine-
looking fellow, Winthrop!"
"You'll find wood in the further end of the closet," said
Winthrop smiling. "I am afraid Mother Hubbard's shelves are
in classical order --that is, with nothing on them."
"I sha'n't want anything more till dinner," said Rufus. "Where
do you dine?"
"At the chop-house to-day."
"I'll meet you there. Won't you be home till night?"
"I never am."
"Well --till dinner," said Rufus waving his hand. And his
brother left him.
Turning away from the table and his emptied dishes and
fragmentary beef-bone, Rufus sat before the little fireplace,
gazing into it at the red coals, and taking casual and then
wistful note of various things about his brother's apartment
that told of the man that lived there.
"Spare!" -- said Rufus to himself, as his eye marked the scanty
carpet, the unpainted few wooden chairs, the curtainless bed,
the rough deal shelves of the closet which shewed at the open
door, and the very economical chimney place, which now, the
wind having gone down, did no longer smoke; -- "Spare! -- but
he'll have a better place to live in, one of these days, and
will furnish it." -- And visions of mahogany and of mirrors
glanced across Rufus's imagination, how unlike the images
around him and before his bodily eye. -- "Spare! -- poor fellow!
-- he's working hard just now; but pay-time will come. And
orderly, --just like him; his books piled in order on the
window-sill -- his papers held down by one on the table, the
clean floor, -- yes," -- and rising Rufus even went and looked
into the closet. There was the little stack of wood and parcel
of kindling, likewise in order; there stood Winthrop's broom
in a corner; and there hung Winthrop's few clothes that were
not folded away in his trunk. Mother Hubbard's department was
in the same spare and thoroughly kept style; and Rufus came
back thoughtfully to his seat before the fire.
"Like him, every bit of it, from the books to the broom. Like
him; -- his own mind is just as free from dust or confusion;
rather more richly furnished. What a mind it is! and what
wealth he'll make out of it, for pocket and for name both. And
I --"
Here Rufus's lucubrations left his brother and went off upon a
sea of calculations, landing at Fleet, Norton & Co. and then
coming back to Mannahatta and Mr. Haye's counting-room. He had
plenty of time for them, as no business obviously could be
done till the day after to-morrow.