"A philosopher," said Mr. Herder, with the slightest comical expression upon his broad face, — "has enough for him to do to take care of truth — he has not time to take care of his wife too. While I was hunting after de truth, my wife would forget me."
"Does it take you so long for a hunt?"
"I am doing it all de time," said the naturalist; "it is what
I spend my life for. I live for that."
The last words were spoken with a quiet deliberation which told their truth. And if the grave mouth of the other might have said 'I live for truth' too, it would not have belied his thoughts. But it was truth of another kind.
Winnie watched the course of this piece of business of Mr. Herder's with the most eager anxiety. That is, what there was to watch, for proceedings were slow. The very folio pages of that 'Bill,' that she saw Winthrop writing, were scrolls of interest and mysterious charm to Winnie's eyes, like nothing surely that other eyes could find in them. Certainly not the eyes of Mr. Ryle and his lawyer. Winnie watched the bill folded up and superscribed, standing over her brother with her hand on his shoulder.
"What is that about, now, Governor? — what is it to do?"
"It charges Mr. Ryle and his brother with malpractices, Winnie — with dealing unfairly by Mr. Lansing."
"But you don't know that they have done anything?"
"They can shew it, in that case; and the object of this bill is to make them shew one thing or the other, by their answer."
"And, dear Governor, how soon will they answer?"