"I will not have this thing said to me!" she repeated. "My motives, in any deed of charity, are no man's or woman's to meddle with. Mr. Landholm is most absolutely nothing to me, nor I to him; except in the respect and regard he has from me, which he has more or less, I presume, from everybody that has the happiness of knowing him. Do you understand me, Rose? clearly?"
Another answer was upon Rose's tongue, but she was cowed, and only responded a meek 'yes.' Elizabeth turned and walked off in stately fashion to the door of the kitchen. The latch was raised, and then she let it fall again, came back, and stood again with a very different face and voice before her guest.
"Rose," she said gravely, "I didn't speak just in the best way to you; but I do not always recollect myself quickly enough. You mustn't say that sort of thing to me — I can't bear it. I am sorry for anything in my manner that was disagreeable to you just now."
And before Rose had in the least made up her mind how to answer her, Elizabeth had quitted the room.
"She ain't goin' never!" said Clam, meeting and passing her mistress as she entered the kitchen. "I don't believe! She's a goin' to stay."
Karen sat in her wonted rocking-chair before the fire, rocking a very little jog on her rockers. Elizabeth came up to the side of the fireplace and stood there, silent and probably meditative. She had at any rate forgotten Karen, when the old woman spoke, in a feebler voice than usual.
"Is the Governor comin'?"
"What, Karen?" said Elizabeth, knowing very well what she had asked, but not knowing so well the drift and intent of it.
"Is the Governor comin'? will he be along directly?"
"No — I suppose not. Do you want to see him, Karen?"