"Precisely," exclaimed Mr. Crewe, "and when I look around me and see the
things crying to be done in this State, and no lawmaker with sense and
foresight enough to propose them, it makes me sick. Now, for instance,"
he continued, and rose with an evident attempt to assault the forestry
shelves. But Austen rose too.

"I'd like to go over that with you, Mr. Crewe," said he, "but I have to
be back in Ripton."

"How about my case?" his host demanded, with a return to his former
abruptness.

"What about it?" asked Austen.

"Are you going to take it?"

"Struggling lawyers don't refuse business."

"Well," said Mr. Crewe, "that's sensible. But what are you going to
charge?"

"Now," said Austen, with entire good humour, "when you get on that
ground, you are dealing no longer with one voracious unit, but with a
whole profession,--a profession, you will allow me to add, which in
dignity is second to none. In accordance with the practice of the best
men in that profession, I will charge you what I believe is fair--not
what I think you are able and willing to pay. Should you dispute the
bill, I will not stoop to quarrel with you, but, try to live on bread and
butter a while longer."