thought--why, I thought the courts arranged all that."

"You don't mean to tell me it was your belief that the members of the
bar are paid by the court?" said Mrs. Tarbell, aghast.

"Why, no, not exactly," stammered Mrs. Stiles. "But, then, I thought
they--sort of--distributed things, you know. Don't they? I heerd of a
young gentleman who was appointed to be lawyer for a man who cut his
wife's throat with a pair of scissors, and the gentleman had never seen
him before, not once."

"Did you suppose," said Mrs. Tarbell,--the affair was arranging itself
very easily, after all,--"did you suppose that the judges undertake to
see that the business of the courts is equally distributed among the
lawyers?"

"I--I don't know, ma'am, I'm sure."

"My good, woman," said Mrs, Tarbell, with great seriousness, "a lawyer
is just as much dependent upon custom as you are. There are many
confectioners who do a large business, there are some who fail. So it is
with lawyers. And many lawyers have to wait ten or twelve years before
they become known at all. So you see in what a critical situation your
daughter runs the risk of placing herself, and how seriously you ought
to reflect before you allow her to take such a risk."

She looked anxiously toward the door. At that moment it opened, and the
office-boy entered. She rose instantly, and Mrs. Stiles had to follow
her example. Mrs. Tarbell represented to herself that the rain would not
hurt her, and that Mrs. Stiles must be got rid of, and, feeling that