"I've a notion he isn't so much of the time alone," said Mr. Inchbald. "He's not at home any more than he used to be, nor so much. I hear him going up or down the stairs -- night and day." "Surely there are no courts now?" said Mrs. Nettley. "Never are in August -- and especially not now, of course." "I'm afraid he's lonesome, poor fellow!" "Never saw a fellow look less like it," said Mr. Inchbald. "He's a strong man, he is, in his heart and mind. I should expect to see one of the pyramids of Egypt come down as soon as either of 'em. Lonesome? I _never_ saw him look lonesome." "He has a trick of not shewing what he feels then," said his sister. "I've seen him times when I know he _felt_ lonesome, -- though as you say, I can't say he shewed it. He's a strong build of a man, too, George." "Like body, like mind," said her brother. "Yes. I like to see a man all of a piece. But his brother has a finer figure." "Do you think so?" said Mrs. Nettley. "That's for a painter. Now I like Winthrop's the best." "That's for a woman," said Mr. Inchbald laughing. "You always like what you love." "Well, what do you suppose he finds to keep him out so much of the time?" "I don't know," said Mr. Inchbald, -- "and I daren't ask him. I doubt some poor friends of his know." "Why do you?" "I can't tell you why; -- something -- the least trifle, once or twice, has given me the idea." "He's a Christian to look at!" said Mrs. Nettley, busying herself round her stove and speaking in rather an undertone. "He's worse than a sermon to me, many times." Her brother turned slowly and went out, thereby confessing, his sister thought, that Winthrop had been as bad as a sermon to him. As he went out he saw a girl just mounting the stairs. "Is Mr. Landholm in?" she said putting her head over the balusters. "I don't know, my girl -- I think he may be." "I'll know before long," she rejoined, taking the stairs at a rate that shewed she meant what she said. Like no client at law that ever sought his lawyer's chambers, on any errand. Before Mr. Inchbald had reached the first landing, she was posted before the desired door, and had tapped there with very alert fingers. Winthrop opened the door. "Clam!" -- said he. -- "Come in." "Mr. Winthrop," said Clam, coming in as slowly as she had mounted the stairs fast, and speaking with unusual deliberation, and not in the least out of breath, -- "don't you want to help the distressed?" "What's the matter, Clam?" "Why Mr. Haye's took, and Miss 'Lizabeth's all alone with him; and she's a little too good to be let die of fright and worry, if she ain't perfect. Few people are." "All alone!" "She's keeping house with him all alone this minute." "What do you mean by all alone?" "When there ain't but two people in the house and one o' them's deathly sick." "Where are the servants? and Mrs. Haye?"