"And a damned intelligent jury, (I beg your pardon, but it's a great
comfort to swear, sometimes,) that I can't humbug. But I must! I must,
to-morrow!" he exclaimed, springing up from the sofa and walking
hurriedly across the room.

"Oh, do sit down, if you are so tired!"

"I cannot sit down, unless you will let me stop thinking. I have but one
idea constantly."

"But if the man is guilty, why do you want to clear him?" said I.

Not a word had he been thinking of me or of Herbert all this time! But
then he had been thinking of a matter of life and death. How all, all my
foolish feelings took to flight! It was some comfort that my lover had
not either seen or suspected them. He thought he must have been nearly
senseless for some time. The last he remembered was, we were looking at
some pictures.

Laura came in from Mrs. Harris's, and, hearing how the case was,
insisted on having a chicken broiled, and that he should eat some
green-apple tarts, of her own cooking,--not sentimental, nor even
wholesome, but they suited the occasion; and we sat, after that, all
three talking, till past twelve o'clock. No danger now, Laura said, of
bad dreams, if he did go to bed.

"But why do you care so very much, if you don't get him off?--you
suppose him guilty, you say?"

"Because, Delphine, his punishment is abominably disproportioned to his
offence. This letter of the law killeth. And then I would get him off,
if possible, for the sake of his son and the family. And besides all
that, Del, it is not for me to judge, you know, but to defend him."

"Yes,--but if you do your best?" I inquired.

"A lawyer never does his best," he replied, hastily, "unless he
succeeds. He must get his client's case, or get him off, I must get some
sleep to-night," he added, "and take another pull. There's a man on the
jury,--he is the only one who holds out. I know I don't get him. And I
know why. I see it in the cold steel of his eyes. His sister was left,
within a week of their marriage-day, by a scoundrel,--left, too, to
disgrace, as well as desertion,--and his heart is bitter towards all
offences of the sort. I must get that man somehow!"

He was standing on the steps, as he spoke, and bidding me good-night;
but I saw his head and heart were both full of his case, _and nothing
else._

The words rang in my ear after he went away: "Within a week of their
marriage-day!" In a week we were to have been married. Thank Heaven, we
were still to be