"I wish May would be here," said Winnie.
Winthrop was at the table one evening, — while it still wanted some weeks of the May term, — writing, as usual, with heaps of folio papers scattered all about him; writing fast; and Winnie was either reading or looking at him, who was the book she loved best to study; when Rufus came in. Both looked up and welcomed him smilingly; but then Winthrop went on with his writing; while Winnie's book was laid down. She had enough else now to do. Rufus took a seat by the fire and did as she often did, — looked at Winthrop.
"Are you always writing?" said he somewhat gloomily.
"Not always," said Winthrop. "I sometimes read, for variety."
"Law papers?"
"Law papers — when I can't read anything else."
"That's pretty much all the time, isn't it?"
"O no," said Winnie; — "he reads a great deal to me — we were reading a while ago, before you came in — we read every evening."
Rufus brought his attention round upon her, not, as it seemed, with perfect complacency.
"What time does this girl go to bed?"