Hills of the Shatemuc Part 91

"Power!" said Winnie, raising herself up on her elbow, -- "why I don't know what you mean! I should think everybody would do what Winthrop likes -- it isn't _power_."

"I wonder what is, then!" said Elizabeth significantly.

"Why it's -- it's -- goodness!" said Winnie, shutting her eyes, but not before they had filled again. Elizabeth bit her lips to keep her own from following company; not with much success.

"That's what it is," said Winnie, without opening her eyes; -- "he always was just so. No he wasn't either, -- though it almost seems as if he was, -- but now he's a Christian."

If outward signs had kept inward feelings company, Elizabeth would have started. She sat still; but the lines of her face wore a look of something very like startled gravity. There was a silence of more than one minute. Winnie opened her eyes and directed them upon her still companion.

"Is he any better than he used to be?" she forced herself to say.

"Why yes," said Winnie, -- "of course -- he must be. He used to be as good as he could be, except that; -- and now he's that too."

"What difference does 'that' make, Winifred?"

Winnie looked keenly once more at the face of her questioner.

"Don't you know what it is to be a Christian, Miss Haye?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"You must ask Winthrop," said Winnie. "He can tell you better than I can."

"I want you to tell me. What difference, for instance, has it made in your brother?"

Winnie looked grave and somewhat puzzled.

"He don't seem much different to _me_," she said, -- "and yet he _is_ different. -- The difference is, Miss Haye, that before, he loved _us_ -- and now he loves G.o.d and keeps his commandments."

"Don't he love you now?"

"Better than ever!" said Winnie with her eyes opening; -- "why what makes you ask that?"

"Didn't he keep the commandments of the Bible before?"

"No, --not as he does now. Some of them he did, because he never was bad as some people are; -- but he didn't keep them as he does now. He didn't keep the first commandment of all."

"Which is that?" said Elizabeth.

Winnie gave her another earnest look before she answered.

"Don't you know?"

"No."

"'Thou shalt love the Lord thy G.o.d with all thy heart, and with all thy mind, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength.'"

If Winifred's face was grave, Elizabeth's took a double shade of gravity -- it was even dark for a minute, as if with some thought that troubled her. Winnie's eyes seemed to take note of it, and Elizabeth roused herself. Yet at first it was not to speak.

"When -- How long ago, do you suppose," she said, "your brother was changed in this way?"

"Since -- since the time I came here; -- since mother died,"

Winnie said softly.

There was again a few minutes of absolute silence; and then Elizabeth rose to go.

"Shall I send you the wine?" she said smiling.

"I don't believe Winthrop will let me take it," Winifred said.

"Because he is good, are you bound not to get strong?"

Elizabeth said with an air of slight vexation.

"No," -- said Winnie, "but because he is good I must do what he says."

"I wish I liked anybody so well as that!" said Elizabeth kissing her. "Good bye, dear, -- I'll come for you to-morrow.

There's no objection to that, I suppose?"

"No," Winnie said laughing; and they parted.

Five minutes Winnie was alone, thinking over her visit and visiter. They were a great novelty, and very interesting.

Winnie's thoughts roved with an odd mixture of admiration and pity over the beautiful dress, and fine face, and elastic step; they were bewitching; but Winnie had seen a shadow on the face, and she knew that the best brightness had never lighted it. Five minutes were all she had to think about it; then she heard a very different step on the stairs.

"I heard her go," said Mrs. Nettley, coming in, "and I had a little more time to spare; so I thought I would spend it with you; -- unless you've got enough with such a gay visiter and don't want me."

"O no indeed, Mrs. Nettley, I want you just as much. Have you done dinner?"

"George isn't ready yet;" and Mrs. Nettley took Miss Haye's chair and set her knitting-needles a going. "Has she tired you with talking?"

"No -- talking doesn't tire me, --and she wasn't a gay visiter, either, Mrs. Nettley -- what do you mean by 'gay'?"

"O, she was handsome, and young, and 'fine feathers make fine birds' I'm sure," said Mrs. Nettley; -- "wasn't she smartly dressed?"

"Yes," said Winnie, she had handsome things on; but that didn't make her _gay_."

"Well that was what I meant. How do you like that young lady?"

"I don't know," said Winnie. "I think I like her."

"This isn't the first of your seeing her, dear!"

"O no -- she was at our house once. I've seen her before, but that was a great while ago. I didn't know her again at first."

"Then she remembered you best."

"O --" said Winnie, considering, -- "she has seen Rufus and Winthrop since then."

"She's a handsome young lady, don't you think so?"