“Don’t call her my _client_, Anna, I beg of you. I hate the word as applied to this lady. If I serve her in any degree, it is solely as a friend. The same feeling prevails with Uncle Tom; for I understand he has not received a cent of Miss Monson’s money, though she is liberal of it to profuseness. Timms is actually getting rich on it.” “Is it usual for you gentlemen of the bar to give their services gratuitously to those who can pay for them?” “As far from it as possible,” returned Jack, laughing. “We look to the main chance like so many merchants or brokers, and seldom open our mouths without shutting our hearts. But this is a case altogether out of the common rule; and Mr. Dunscomb works for love, and not for money.” Had Anna cared less for John Wilmeter, she might have said something clever about the nephew’s being in the same category as the uncle; but her feelings were too deeply interested to suffer her even to think what would seem to her profane. After a moment’s pause, therefore, she quietly said— “I believe you have intimated that Mr. Timms is not quite so disinterested?” “Not he—Miss Monson has given him fees amounting to a thousand dollars, by his own admission; and the fellow has had the conscience to take the money. I have remonstrated about his fleecing a friendless woman in this extravagant manner; but he laughs in my face for my pains. Timms has good points, but honesty is not one of them. He says no woman can be friendless who has a pretty face, and a pocket full of money.” “You can hardly call a person unfriended who has so much money at command, John,” Anna answered with timidity; but not without manifest interest in the subject. “A thousand dollars sounds like a large sum to me!” “It is a good deal of money for a fee; though much more is sometimes given. I dare say Miss Monson would have gladly given the same to uncle Tom, if he would have taken it. Timms told me that she proposed offering as much to him; but be persuaded her to wait until the trial was over.” “And where does all this money come from, John?” “I’m sure I do not know—I am not at all in Miss Monson’s confidence; on her pecuniary affairs, at least. She _does_ honour me so much as to consult me about her trial occasionally, it is true; but to me she has never alluded to money, except to ask me to obtain change for large notes. I do not see anything so very wonderful in a lady’s having money. You, who are a sort of heiress yourself, ought to know that.” “I do not get money in thousands, I can assure you, Jack; nor do I think that I have it to get. I believe my whole income would not much more than meet the expenditure of this strange woman——” “Do not call her _woman_, Anna; it pains me to hear you speak of her in such terms.” “I beg her pardon and yours, Jack; but I meant no disrespect. We are all women.”