dock, was placed the clerk's desk, in the rear of which rose a massive, panelled barrier. Behind this were the judges' chairs, sheltered beneath a canopy of faded red moreen curtains, looped up at the centre overhead. The duty of keeping this drapery in place was confided to a disconsolate looking spread eagle, that apparently with much ado prevented the dusty folds from falling together, and shrouding from view my friends Judge Walker and Cranston, and a tall gentleman in a riding coat, who stood together in the recess of the high, arched window, with their backs to the court-room, talking busily.

I forgot to mention that I saw the artist. Mr. Fitzhoward, seated within the ring of the bar table, by the side of a tall, light-complexioned, sandy-haired young lawyer, who held in his hand a moroccocovered memorandum book, which seemed to contain his list of cases, and my attention was more particularly directed towards the pair, when, after I had been sitting in the court-room a few minutes, the clerk called "Fitzhoward against Smith-two cases-I. Orlando Fitzhoward against Jemima A. Smith, and the same against William Smith."

There was a little sensation in the court-room at this call, and a smile was apparent on the faces of many of the lawyers and spectators when the young lawver promptly answered "Here," at the same time making a check in his memorandum book.

Who for the plaintiff?" asked the deaf old clerk, putting his hand to his

enter my name for the defendants in both cases." As he looked up from the docket, his eyes met mine. I believe I blushed, for I was exchanging glances with Frank Eliot for the first time since we had parted in Paris seven years before.

I don't know what I should have done if Eliot had not advanced towards me with an extended hand, and a face all beaming with cordiality and pleasure; but the next moment we were grasping each other by the hand, and the next after that were in the library room, beginning to talk over old times.

"Why, why, old fellow," said Frank, after we had mutually explained, and begged each other's pardon for former offences and short-comings, and granted the same, and, in fine, renewed our friendship- why, old fellow; so far from holding any grudge against you on aecount of that affair with Sophie, I am under a weight of obligation that I never can remove. Ugh! I had an escape, and your faithful friendship I have to thank for it."

"Pshaw!" said I, feeling somewhat embarrassed at this protestation of gratitude, especially as it was accompanied by a slight twinkle of my friend's eye; "don't mention it; if I rendered you a good service you know very well that I had my reward at the time."

. "I'm glad of it-speaking of marrying, you are a bachelor yet, I believe?"

"Yes, thank you," I replied, emphasizing the pronoun slightly.

You are married, I've heard," said I, after a pause.

Yes, thank you," replied Frank, using the same emphasis.

"Yes, I was married several years, and, by-the-by, you'll be pleased to know that I've got the best wife in the world, as you shall see this day."

"Yes," I replied, with a shrug of my shoulders, "cousin Helen!"

Frank laughed again and looked very sly and mischievous. "So you have heard whom I married?" said he.

"I saw it in the papers, and besides I inquired into the particulars of some of our friends at New Haven."

"And so found out that I married your cousin Helen, eh?" cried Frank, laughing immoderately.

"Exactly."

"And will you forgive me," asked Frank.

I had half a mind to make the condition of pardon, that Eliot should give me the benefit of his influence with Mary Smith, but a second thought convinced

me how absurd that would be. "We'll offset my success with Madame La Vigne against yours with Mrs. Eliot," said I.

"Very well, then," said Frank, gayly; "all our difficulties are settled, and we are friends once more. And now no roof but that of your friend must shelter you, so long as you remain in town. I hope it will be a month."

"Thank you," said I, "but I remain a day or two only, and-"

7: Come, come," said Eliot, interrupting me; "I shall take no denial. I have invited Judge Walker and Cranston to dinner to-day, and you will all ride down together, as soon as you have concluded the arguments in the case you are to try this morning."

"I fear we shall not get through in season." said I.

"Oh-ho," laughed Frank, "never fear for that, I'll trust to Judge Walker to put you through by dinner time. Two o'clock's the hour, and we will wait for you if need be."

Very well, then," said I.

"Au revoir. The wagon will be at Curtiss's by one."

As I again entered the court-room, the clerk was in the last stages of the long docket, calling the U's, V's, and W's. The judge was lying back in his cushioned chair, and when his eye fell upon me, he beckoned me to come to him.

The judge leaned over his desk to whisper to me as I went up to the bench. All made up with Eliot, I suppose?" said he; and when I had confirmed this conjecture, he continued. "He'll give us a good dinner to-day, if we don't spoil it by being late."

66

The judge slipped his spectacles down upon his nose. 'Come, gentlemen," he cried, suddenly and briskly. "The court is ready to hear you in the cause specially assigned-Peck against Harris.

Allow

me to say," he continued, dropping his voice, and again leaning over his desk -"allow me to suggest that brevity in your arguments, and a little leisure before dinner, are both extremely desirable, and without one we cannot have the other today. In fact," said he, in a still lower tone, "we ought to be at Eliot's at halfpast one at the latest, and it is now eleven. State your points clearly, gentlemen, all that you wish to make, and comment upon them at the length that you think necessary; but the court is intelligent enough, I think, to comprehend them without prolix argument. Go on, Mr. Cranston; proceed with your argument. I have just looked over your bill; there's no

necessity for consuming time with reading it."

Though I was, without doubt, as deeply in love as any young man in New England, nevertheless, in ten minutes after Cranston had risen to his feet, I had wholly forgotten Mary Smith. As I listened admiringly but anxiously to the ingenious and forcible argument of my acute and learned friend, I ceased to fear that he might be my rival in a love suit, and remembered only that he was my antagonist in the issue of Peck v. Harris. If a lawyer be crossed in love, there is surely no necessity of his dying with a broken heart, or of mounting his steed and going off to the wars. If, in the courtroom, and in the excitement and absorbing interest of a trial, he cannot for the time forget his private griefs, he is no lawyer.

As I have before told you, gentlemen, this cause of Peck v. Harris was one of considerable importance, and Cranston had evidently prepared himself carefully for the argument. He spoke with an air of confidence, and with that fluency of diction which, except in a few remarkable instances, is the result of only constant practice. I saw, with misgivings, that a majority of the bar seemed to be thoroughly convinced of the correctness of his law and his logic, and thankful enough was I that the issue was to be decided not by them, but by the clear-headed and learned jurist who sat on the bench above us, listening with serious attention to the earnest speech of the eloquent advocate addressing him, occasionally taking notes with imperturbable gravity, and sometimes reaching forward for the books from which Cranston cited his authorities. Cranston spoke about half an hour, and when he sat down, although I had been pretty well convinced that I had the law on my side, I trembled for my case.

"There, Lovel," he whispered, as he took his seat, and gathered his papers together, "I've finished you; but don't die hard. It's unpleasant to see even an adversary struggling in the agonies of death; but get up and go through the motions to satisfy your clients, and we'll go over, take a punch, and dress for dinner."

"Wait an hour and see who's the corpse," I retorted, making a hasty memorandum on my brief.

"Go on, Mr. Lovel, if you're ready," said the Judge, looking at the clock over his spectacles.

May it please your Honor," said I, rising, and addressing the court, and be ginning a speech of some twenty minutes

piazza, smoking their after-dinner cigars.

Eliot stood at the door as we drove up to his house, and gave us a hearty welcome. The supplementary greeting that I got was especially cordial, and Eliot said to me in a whisper, as he led me into. the house by the hand, the other guests preceding us," Lovel, you can't tell how glad I am to see you here at last. It is my fault that the visit was not made years ago."

"Pooh!" said I, returning the pressure of the hand by which these words were accompanied, "I was more to blame than you in our unfortunate difference. But never mind, we are friends again now, and I am here. We will make up for lost time."

I felt a good deal of trepidation at the idea of entering the presence of Cousin Helen and Miss Smith. The door between the hall and the drawing-room stood open, and from within came a soft, rustling noise of ladies' silken dresses. I know of no more appalling sound than this may sometimes be. Cranston's ear caught it, I think, for he shrugged his shoulders as he gave his hat to the ser

vant.

"Come, gentlemen," said our host, moving towards the door. In a moment more we had all crossed the threshold and were standing in the drawing-room, in the bewildering presence of three elegantly dressed ladies, to whom we were severally presented. Of course, during the ceremony, there was considerable enunciation of names and interchanging of the complimentary and conventional phrases that are customary on such occasions. I was painfully embarrassed, as I well might be under the circumstances; and at first, I must admit, I hardly knew what I was about. I must have performed my part very awkwardly, especially for a gentleman of twenty-seven, who had travelled in Europe and wintered in Paris. I even thought I detected a suppressed smile upon the faces of the company; but of this I could not be sure, for the cool, blinded, shaded room seemed almost dark after the glaring, mid-day sunlight out of doors. But this suspieion heightened my confusion, and that something odd had happened was manifest from the air of constraint and stiffness with which conversation began, after a moment of very awkward and embarrassing silence.

When I recovered in some degree my self-possession, I began to look about me a little.

The three ladies were, of course,

Mrs. Eliot and Miss Smith and her city cousin, That I recognized Miss Smith, there is no need to tell you, and the cousin too, of course, though in the confusion of sounds and ideas that bewildered my brain I had failed to catch her name. I had heard only the names of Eliot' and 'Smith.'

Mrs. Eliot. the cousin Helen of my early fancies, and I, as was very natural, regarded each other with considerable curiosity. I saw that she was a very lovely young matron, with large, darkblue, pensive eyes, softly tinted cheeks, and a sweet little mouth that uttered the most cordial words of welcome, to the sincerity of which her speaking eyes bore witness. She advanced to meet me when I was presented to her, and held out both of her little white hands, and told me again and again that I was a most welcome guest. It is not in the nature of man to be indifferent to such a winsome manner in a woman. Many a man's heart is coaxed out of his possession in this pleasant way. And this charming little woman, with such a wealth of soft brown hair, with such mild, pretty eyes, and such a rich, mellow, musical voice, betokening a good, affectionate heart, might have been my gentle, loving wife.

But, at this moment, I threw a glance of comparison at Miss Smith, and "Heavens!" thought I, as I met the gaze of her brilliant eyes; "I should love her to madness if I had forty charming little wives like cousin Helen."

Mrs. Eliot made me sit by her on the sofa, and when the company had begun to talk again after the awkward silence of which I have spoken, she said to me in an earnest undertone: "We ought to beg your forgiveness for this foolish scene. I protested against the whole affair, for I thought Frank should tell you, but he insisted that it would be just the thing to put every body at ease at once."

I didn't know what this meant, but supposing that I was expected to reply, I uttered a little short, forced laugh, and said, "Yes, oh yes."

"We shouldn't have heard that you were in Guildford, and you might have gone away again, but Mary Smith, only this morning, told us that she rode out in the stage with you on Saturday, and then Frank and she contrived this stupid scene. For my part," continued the lady, with a contemptuous curl of her pretty lip, "I don't like these domestic dramas; they are too Frenchy, and this was just such a failure as I predicted. Instead of every body's laughing and having the

"A splendid joke, I think," said the cousin.

"Capital!" added Cranston.

"A very stupid one," remarked Miss Smith, with an air of quiet disdain. "I believe I ought to say," she added in a moment after, with a flushed face and glancing half angrily at her cousin, "that I was no party to it."

"I beg your pardon, my dear," retorted her cousin, with an indifferent air, "but you were one of the-victims."

Frank. I had forgotten to say, had, after inquiring for his mother, with a manner of singular meekness, suddenly left the room. So it happened that he bore no part in this incomprehensible

Conversation.

I was pleased to observe that Cranston's partiality for the dark-eyed cousin was apparently sincere. He had seated himself at first by her side, and engaged her in a lively conversation; he claimed previous acquaintanceship on the ground of the stage-ride, and she, on her part, protesting an utter want of recollection of ever having seen him before, while expressing her infinite delight that she had at length, to-day, experienced that pleasure. Miss Smith's cousin was manifestly a very brilliant creature, and not at all afraid of men. Mrs. Eliot and the Judge presently fell into a discourse concerning the weather, and I, having mustered all the courage requisite for such a desperate undertaking, crossed the room and took position near Miss Smith. Having effected this movement, it of course very soon became a matter of extreme propriety, and after a while, of imminent necesity, to say somewhat to my fair neighbor, even if my remark might not happen to be particularly profound or interesting; but I could think of nothing to say, and as the moments flew I could feel my flushed face benumbed and stiffened by diffidence; my tongue was paralyzed, and my dry lips seemed incapable of the office of articulation. Cranston, meanwhile, was getting on famously with the darkyed lady, who was laughing heartily at

some of his drollery, and the Judge and Mrs. Eliot were talking politics.

The necessity of submitting some sort of a remark for the consideration of the beautiful Miss Smith had now come to be absolute. I was at my wit's end, striving to invent some pertinent observa tion. There was an air of reserve about the lady that set me back distressingly. She was far more beautiful than I had supposed her to be, and she had a manner of stateliness and hauteur that was as unexpected to me as it was embarrass ing. She was taller, and her form more rounded; her cheek had more color, and her eye more fire and depth than had been apparent, the day I had seen her in the coach; there was the same indescribable fascination about her that had caused my abrupt plunge into the restless sea of love, but it now seemed intensified, mag nified, multiplied. I felt that my doom was sealed, my fate fixed, and for the first time in my life was conscious that upon the will of a woman depended the question, whether I should, in the future, be happy, or miserable. "Can it be " thought I, "can it be that this superb creature will ever be mine?" Whereupon I forgot to breathe, and recovered only with a gasp that I was fain to dis guise by an awkward attempt at a cough, so that, on the whole, it sounded as if Í had hiccupped. Then I was forced to answer my own question mentally, and say to myself: "No, sir, it isn't a possí ble thing. You will never be so happy. Some other man —”

Meanwhile, I said nothing, and Miss Smith also preserved a strict silence. She sat within an arm's length of me, in a large, old-fashioned chair, with her face. indeed, turned towards me, but with her glance averted. What folly for me to attempt to describe her, gentlemen! Imagine the most beautiful woman that your fancy can paint, and Miss Smith was far more beautiful. But, notwithstanding her superb, queenly mien, I noticed that her bosom heaved, her breath came quick and short, her nostrils slightly dilated at each inspiration, and there was an occasional nibbling at her compressed nether lip, with her little pearls of teeth, and a nervous motion of her head, that betokened more agitation than she could entirely conceal.

This encouraged me somewhat, for if she had appeared wholly self-possessed, I never could have dared to address her. At last, recovering the partial use of my lips and tongue, I began in a husky tone, "If I could have foreseen, the other