Where a legal wrong has been committed by A. B. and C., and there is no remedy against A. or B., there must either be one against C., or none at all: but this Law abhors as Nature does a vacuum. Besides, this defendant has _done_ the wrong complained of. In his person you sue an act, not an opinion. But of course you are not cool enough to see all this just at first.""Cool, sir," said Alfred despairingly; "I am frozen with your remorseless law. What, of all these villains, may I only attack one, and can't Iimprison even him, as he has me? Such narrow law encourages men to violence, who burn under wrongs like mine."Mr. Compton looked keenly at his agitated, mortified client, but made no concession. He gave him a minute to digest the law's first bitter pill:
and then said, "If I am to act for you, you had better write a line to the Commissioners of Lunacy requesting them to hand me copies of the order and certificates." Alfred wrote it.
"And now," said Mr. Compton thoughtfully, " I don't think they will venture to recapture you during the fourteen days. But still they might;and we attorneys are wary animals. So please give me at once a full authority to act under advice of counsel for your protection."Alfred wrote as requested, and Mr. Compton put the paper in his drawer, remarking, "With this I can proceed by law or equity, even should you get into the asylum again." He then dismissed Alfred somewhat abruptly, but with an invitation to call again after three clear days. Like most ardent suitors after their first interview with passionless law, he went away sadly chilled, and so home to his cheerless lodging, to count the hours till he could see Julia, and learn his fate from her lips.
This very morning a hasty note came to Edward from Folkestone, worded thus:
"Oh, Edward: my worst misgivings! The two have parted. Poor papa has taken a man's boat and is in sight. We shall follow directly in a steamboat. But the other! You know my fears; you must be father and mother to that poor child till I come home--Your sad mother, "LUCY DODD."Julia held out her hand for the note. Edward put it in his pocket.
"What is that for?" said the young lady.
"Why surely I may put my own property in my pocket.""Oh, certainly. I only want to look at it first.""Excuse me.""Are you in earnest, Edward? Not let me see dear mamma's letter?" and the vivid face looked piteously surprised.
"Oh, I'll tell you the contents. Papa had got to Folkestone and taken a boat, and gone to sea: then mamma took a steamboat and after him: so she will soon catch him, and is not that a comfort?""Oh, yes," cried Julia, and was for some time too interested and excited to think of anything else. But presently she returned to the charge.
"Anything else, dear?"
"Humph? Well, not of equal importance."
"Oh, if it is of no importance, there can be no reason for not telling me. What was it?"Edward coloured but said nothing. He thought however, and thus ran his thoughts: "She's my intellectual superior and I've got to deceive her;and a nice mess I shall make of it."It _is_ of importance," said Julia, eyeing him. "You have told a story:
and you don't love your sister." This fulminated, she drew herself up proudly and was silent. A minute afterwards, stealing a look at her, he saw her eyes suddenly fill with tears, _apropos_ of nothing tangible.
"Now this is nice," said he to himself At noon she put on her bonnet to visit her district. He put on his hat directly, and accompanied her. Great was her innocent pleasure at that:
it was the first time he had done her the honour. She took him to her poor people, and showed him off with innocent pride.
"Hannah, this is my brother." Then in a whisper, "Isn't he beautiful?"Presently she saw him looking pale; unheard of phenomenon! "There now, you are ill," said she. "Come home directly, and be nursed.""No, no," said he. "I only want a little fresh air. What horrid places what horrid sights and smells! I say, you must have no end of pluck to face them.""No, no, no. Dearest, I pray for strength: that is how I manage. And oh, Edward, you used to think the poor were not to be pitied. But now you see.""Yes, I see, and smell and all. You are a brave, good girl. Got any salts about you?""Yes, of course. There. But fancy a young lion smelling salts.""A young duffer, you mean; that has passed for game through the thing not being looked into close.""Oh, you can he close enough, where I want you to be open."No answer.
The next day he accompanied her again, but remained at the stairfoot while she went in to her patients; and, when she came down, asked her, Could no good Christian be found to knock that poor woman on the head who lived in a plate.
"No good Heathen, you mean," said Julia.
"Why, yes," said he; "the savages manage these things better."He also accompanied her shopping, and smoked phlegmatically outside the shops; nor could she exhaust his patience. Then the quick girl put this and that together. When they were at home again and her bonnet off, she looked him in the face and said sweetly, "I have got a watch-dog." He smiled, and said nothing. "Why don't you answer?" cried Julia impetuously.
