“Can you understand that man?” said the naturalist.

“He don’t understand himself,” said Elizabeth.

“I don’t understand anybody,” said Rose.  “But I like to hear the Chancellor speak —­ he’s so funny, —­ only I’m getting tired.  I wish he would stop that man.  Oh that Mr. Brick! —­ Now see the Chancellor! —­”

“I’ve decided that point, Mr. Brick!”

Mr. Brick could not think it decided.  At least it seemed so, for he went on.

“What a stupid man!” said Rose.

“He will have the last word,” said Mr. Herder.

“Miss Haye, are you tired?” asked Mr. Satterthwaite, leaning past the white feather.

“I? —­ No.”

“I am,” said Rose.  “And so is the Chancellor.  Now look at him —­”

“Mr. Brick —­ I have decided that point!” came from the lips of Mr. Justice, a little more curtly than before.

“Now he will stop, —­” said Rose.

No —­ Mr. Brick was unmoveable.

“Very well!” said the Chancellor, throwing himself half way round on his chair with a jerk —­ “you may go on, and I’ll read the newspaper! —­”

Which he did, amid a general titter that went round the courtroom, till the discomfited Mr. Brick came to a stand.  And Winthrop rose for his next point.

“Are you going to wait till it’s all done, Mr. Herder?” said Rose.  “I’m tired to death.  Lizzie —­ Lizzie!” —­ she urged, pulling her cousin’s shoulder.

“What!” said Elizabeth, giving her another sight of the same face that had flashed upon her half an hour before.

“My goodness!” said Rose.  “What’s the matter with you?”

“What do you want? —­” said Elizabeth with a sort of fiery impatience, into which not a little disdain found its way.

“You are not interested, are you?” said Rose with a satirical smile.

“Of course I am!” —­

“In that man, Lizzie?”

“What do you want!” said Elizabeth, answering the whisper in a plain voice.

“I want to go home.”

“I’m not ready to go yet.”

And her head went round to its former position.

“Lizzie —­ Lizzie!” urged Rose in a whisper, —­ “How can you listen to that man! —­ you oughtn’t to. —­ Lizzie! —­”

“Hush, Rose! be quiet! —­ I will listen.  Let me alone.”

Nor could Rose move her again by words, whispers, or pulls of her shoulder.  “I am not ready,” —­she would coolly reply.  Mrs. Haye was in despair, but constrained to keep it to herself for fear she should be obliged to accept an escort home, and because of an undefined unwillingness to leave Elizabeth there alone.  She had to wait, and play the agreeable to Mr. Satterthwaite, for both her other companions were busy listening; until Winthrop had finished his argument, and the Chancellor had nodded,

“I allow that exception, Mr. Landholm —­ it is well taken —­ Mr. Brick, what have you to say?” —­