The clock had not struck nine when they passed through the spacious area of Lincoln's Inn Fields, the trees in which had already become leafless, and gave an air of desolation to the dingy scenery. What a crowd of reflections do our Inns of Court give rise to--and yet how few who pass through them ever bestow one thought on the thousands who are toiling daily, and many nightly, within those walls to render perfect and secure for others the property which without the aid of the law would be unsafe! A writer in an American work has remarked, "what a happy country that would be where there were no lawyers;" but he must first people it with immaculate beings, to whom the ten commandments would become as a dead letter, and every one of the inhabitants must enjoy equality. To suppose such a thing is an absurdity--human passions and human prejudices will prevail, and it is to govern the one and guide the other--to protect the right--avenge the injured, and to punish crime--that laws were framed; and men indefatigably devoted themselves to study all their bearings that they might be carried into full effect. An honourable, useful, and manly profession is that of the lawyer; and though there are some unworthy members amongst the fraternity--(and what community is without them?)--yet, taken as a body, they bear a character of which England is justly proud. Exactly at nine they reached the chambers of Mr. Brady, and at the same moment a tall, stout, boney man took a key from his pocket and opened the door. "Mr. Brady is not yet come, madam," said he, observing that Mrs. Heartwell was about to address him. "His business-time is half-past nine, and you will find him punctual to the moment. Would you like to wait, or will you call again?" "You are, I presume, in Mr. Brady's service?" said the lady, as she passed within the door. "His assistant, madam--his clerk--his confidential clerk," responded the man, stiffly bowing and assuming a pompous manner. But Mrs. Heartwell heeded not his conduct, her mind was too much engrossed by other matters, and she earnestly remarked, "You are then acquainted with all Mr. Brady's employers--" "His clients, madam, I suppose you mean," interrupted the person addressed, as he bent a keen look on the interesting countenance of the lady. "Oh yes--I necessarily know his clients well--" "Then," returned she, "you perhaps can inform me whether Mr. Heartwell"--her voice became tremulous with emotion, but by a sharp struggle she mastered her feelings and repeated "whether Mr. Heartwell was here yesterday?" "Lieutenant Heartwell of the Royal Navy, madam, I presume," said the clerk, obsequiously bowing. "Have I the honour to address his worthy lady?" "He is my husband, sir," answered the lady, proudly, for there was something in the manners of the man that excited unpleasant sensations--a smirking attempt to please that but ill accorded with his look and appearance. "Was Mr. Heartwell here yesterday?"