“As good a man as I want to argue before,” said Winthrop.  “I ask no better.  All is safe in that quarter.”

That all was safe in another quarter, both Mr. Herder and Winnie felt sure; and both looked eagerly forward to May; both too with very much the same feeling of pride and interest in their champion.

Winnie’s heart jumped again at hearing a few days after, that Mr. Satterthwaite had put his affairs into Winthrop’s hands; partly, Winthrop said he supposed, out of friendship for him, and partly out of confidence in him.  It was rather a mark of the former, that he insisted upon paying a handsome retaining fee.

“Now where’s Mr. Cool and his affairs?” said Winnie.

“I suppose Mr. Cool is at Coldstream, where he keeps ‘cool’ all the year round, I understand.”

“But he promised to put his affairs into your hands.”

“Then he’ll do it.  Perhaps they keep cool too.”

“I wish May would be here,” said Winnie.

Winthrop was at the table one evening, —­ while it still wanted some weeks of the May term, —­ writing, as usual, with heaps of folio papers scattered all about him; writing fast; and Winnie was either reading or looking at him, who was the book she loved best to study; when Rufus came in.  Both looked up and welcomed him smilingly; but then Winthrop went on with his writing; while Winnie’s book was laid down.  She had enough else now to do.  Rufus took a seat by the fire and did as she often did, —­ looked at Winthrop.

“Are you always writing?” said he somewhat gloomily.

“Not always,” said Winthrop.  “I sometimes read, for variety.”

“Law papers?”

“Law papers —­ when I can’t read anything else.”

“That’s pretty much all the time, isn’t it?”

“O no,” said Winnie; —­ “he reads a great deal to me —­ we were reading a while ago, before you came in —­ we read every evening.”

Rufus brought his attention round upon her, not, as it seemed, with perfect complacency.

“What time does this girl go to bed?”

How Winnie’s face changed.  Winthrop answered without stopping his pen. —­

“When she is tired of sitting up —­ not until then.”

“She ought to have a regular hour —­ and an early one.”

“You are an adviser upon theory, you see,” said Winthrop going on with his writing; —­ “I have the advantage of practice.”

“I fancy any adviser would tell you the same in this case,” said the elder brother somewhat stiffly.

“I can go now,” Winifred said rising, and speaking with a trembling lip and a tremulous voice, —­ “if you want to talk about anything.”

She lit a candle and had got to the door, when her other brother said,

“Winnie! —­”