“I don’t know, I’m sure,” said Augusta, with a sigh.  “It doesn’t seem quite fair, does it?  But then, you see, there was no money.”

Just then John Short came up.  He had been to speak to his brother.  Augusta being a novelist, and therefore a professional student of human physiognomy, was engaged in studying the legal types before her, which she found resolved themselves into two classes—­the sharp, keen-faced class and the solid, heavy-jawed class.

“Who on earth are they all?” she asked.

“Oh,” he said, “that’s the Attorney-General.  He appears with Fiddlestick, Q.C., Pearl, and Bean for the defendant Addison.  Next to him is the Solicitor-General, who, with Playford, Q.C., Middlestone, Blowhard, and Ross, is for the other defendant, Roscoe.  Next to him is Turphy, Q.C., with the spectacles on; he is supposed to have a great effect on a jury.  I don’t know the name of his junior, but he looks as though he were going to eat one—­doesn’t he?  He is for one of the legatees.  That man behind is Stickon; he is for one of the legatees also.  I suppose that he finds probate and divorce an interesting subject, because he is always writing books about them.  Next to him is Howles, who, my brother says, is the best comic actor in the court.  The short gentleman in the middle is Telly; he reports for the Times.  You see, as this is an important case, he has got somebody to help him to take it—­that long man with a big wig.  He, by-the-way, writes novels, like you do, only not half such good ones.  The next”—­but at this moment Mr. John Short was interrupted by the approach of a rather good-looking man, who wore an eye-glass continually fixed in his right eye.  He was Mr. News, of the great firm News and News, who were conducting the case on behalf of the defendants.

“Mr. Short, I believe?” said Mr. News, contemplating his opponent’s youthful form with pity, not unmixed with compassion.

“Yes.”

“Um, Mr. Short, I have been consulting with my clients and—­um, the Attorney and Solicitor-General and Mr. Fiddlestick, and we are quite willing to admit that there are circumstances of doubt in this case which would justify us in making an offer of settlement.”

“Before I can enter into that, Mr. News,” said John, with great dignity, “I must request the presence of my counsel.”

“Oh, certainly,” said Mr. News, and accordingly James was summoned from his elevated perch, where he was once more going through his notes and the heads of his opening speech, although he already knew his brief—­which, to do it justice, had been prepared with extraordinary care and elaboration—­almost by heart, and next moment, for the first time in his life, found himself in consultation with an Attorney and a Solicitor-General.

“Look here, Short,” said the first of these great men addressing James as though he had known him intimately for years, though, as a matter of fact, he had only that moment ascertained his name from Mr. Fiddlestick, who was himself obliged to refer to Bean before he could be sure of it—­“look here, Short:  don’t you think that we can settle this business?  You’ve got a strongish case; but there are some ugly things against you, as no doubt you know.”