at her so hard as he
can; but she will not look at the tops of his fingers. She
does not know what she shall do wiz herself, she is so mad wiz
her father's new wife."

"What has she been doing?" Winthrop asked.

"Who, Rose? -- she has not done nozing, but to marry Elisabet's
father, and for that she never will forgive her. I am sorry --
he was foolish man. -- Wint'rop, you must not shut yourself up
here -- you will be directly rich -- you must find yourself a
wife next thing."

"Why should a lawyer have a wife any more than a philosopher?"
said Winthrop.

"A philosopher," said Mr. Herder, with the slightest comical
expression upon his broad face, -- "has enough for him to do to
take care of truth -- he has not time to take care of his wife
too. While I was hunting after de truth, my wife would forget
me."

"Does it take you so long for a hunt?"

"I am doing it all de time," said the naturalist; "it is what
I spend my life for. I live for that."

The last words were spoken with a quiet deliberation which
told their truth. And if the grave mouth of the other might
have said 'I live for truth' too, it would not have belied his
thoughts. But it was truth of another kind.

Winnie watched the course of this piece of business of Mr.
Herder's with the most eager anxiety. That is, what there was
to watch, for proceedings were slow. The very folio pages of
that 'Bill,' that she saw Winthrop writing, were scrolls of
interest and mysterious charm to Winnie's eyes, like nothing
surely that other eyes could find in them. Certainly not the
eyes of Mr. Ryle and his lawyer. Winnie watched the bill
folded up and superscribed, standing over her brother with her
hand on his shoulder.

"What is that about, now, Governor? -- what is it to do?"

"It charges Mr. Ryle and his brother with malpractices, Winnie
-- with dealing unfairly by Mr. Lansing."

"But you don't know that they have done anything?"

"They can shew it, in that case; and the object of this bill
is to make them shew one thing or the other, by their answer."

"And, dear Governor, how soon will they answer?"

"In forty days, Winnie, they must."

Winnie drew a breath of patience and impatience, and went back
to her seat.

But before the forty days were gone by, Winthrop came home one
night and told Winnie he had got the answer; and smiled at her
face of eagerness and pleasure. Winnie thought his smiles were
not very often, and welcomed every one.

"But i