abeth, "_I_ would. I shouldn't think it was
a very safe way to put it off."

Mr. Satterthwaite mused over his tea and made no answer;
clearly the conversation had got upon the wrong tack.

"Are you going to be in court to-morrow again, Mr.
Satterthwaite?" asked the lady of the house.

"I don't know -- not for my own affairs -- I don't know but I
shall go in to hear Winthrop's cause come on against Mr.
Ryle."

"I never was in court in my life," said Elizabeth.

"Suppose you go, Miss Elizabeth -- If you'll allow me to have
the honour of taking care of you, I shall be very happy.
There'll be something to hear, between Chancellor Justice and
my friend Winthrop and Mr. Brick."

"Is Mr. Brick going to speak to-morrow?" said Rose.

"Yes -- he is on the other side."

"Let's go, Lizzie," said her cousin. "Will you take me too,
Mr. Brick? -- Mr. Satterthwaite, I mean."

Mr. Satterthwaite declared himself honoured, prospectively;
Elizabeth put no objection of her own in the way; and the
scheme was agreed on.

The morrow came, and at the proper hour the trio repaired to
the City Hall and mounted its high white steps.

"Don't you feel afraid, Lizzie, to be coming here?" said her
cousin. "I do."

"Afraid of what, Mrs. Haye?" inquired their attendant.

"O I don't know, -- it looks so; -- it makes me think of
prisoners and judges and all such awful things!"

Mr. Satterthwaite laughed, and stole a glance beyond Mrs. Haye
to see what the other lady was thinking of. But Elizabeth said
nothing and looked nothing; she marched on like an automaton
beside her two companions, through the great halls, one after
another, till the room was reached and they had secured their
seats. Then certainly no one who had looked at her face would
have taken it for an automaton. Though she was as still as a
piece of machine-work, except the face. Rose was in a fidget
of business, and the tip of her bonnet's white feather
executed all manner of arcs and curves in the air, within
imminent distance of Mr. Satterthwaite's face.

"Who's who? -- and where's anybody, Mr. Satterthwaite," she
inquired.

"That's the Chancellor, sitting up there at the end, do you
see? -- Sitting alone, and leaning back in his chair."

"_That?_" said Rose. "I see. Is that Chancellor Justice? A fine-
looking man, very, isn't he?"

"Well -- I suppose he is," said Mr. Satterthwaite. "He's a
_strong_ man."

"Strong?" said Rose; -- "is he? Lizzie! -- isn't Chance