d so was the affectionateness of woman--meaning nothing,
only an effect of warmth and geniality, nothing beyond that. As a matter
of fact, he reminded himself after a while that he had never wanted
anything beyond, neither asked for it, nor wished it. He had no desire
to change the conditions of his life: women never rested till they had
done so, manufacturing a new event, whatever it might be, pleased even
when they were not pleased, to have a novelty to announce. That, no
doubt, was the state of mind in which the lady who called herself his
aunt was: pleased to have something to tell him, to fire off her big
guns in his face, even though she was not at all pleased with the event
itself. But John Tatham, on the other hand, had desired nothing to
happen; things were very well as they were. He liked to have a place
where he could run down from Saturday to Monday whenever he pleased, and
where his visit was always a cheerful event for the womankind. He had
liked to take them all the news, to carry the picture-papers, quite a
load; to take down a new book for Elinor; to taste doubtfully his aunt's
wine, and tell her she had better let him choose it for her. It was a
very pleasant state of affairs: he wanted no change; not, certainly,
above everything, the intrusion of a stranger whose very existence had
been unknown to him until he was thus asked cynically, almost brutally,
"Do you know the man?"

The hour came when John had to assume the costume of that order of
workers whom a persistent popular joke nicknames the "Devil's Own:"--that
is, he had to put on gown and wig and go off to the courts, where he was
envied of all the briefless as a man who for his age had a great deal to
do. He "devilled" for Mr. Asstewt, the great Chancery man, which was the
most excellent beginning: and he was getting into a little practice of
his own which was not to be sneezed at. But he did not find himself in a
satisfactory frame of mind to-day. He found himself asking the judge,
"Do you know anything of the man?" when it was his special business so
to bewilder that potentate with elaborate arguments that he should not
have time to consider whether he had ever heard of the particular man
before him. Thus it was evident that Mr. Tatham was completely _hors de
son assiette_, as the French say; upset and "out of it," according to
the equally vivid imagination of the English manufacturer of slang. John
Tatham was a very capable young lawyer on ord