"I did not know but that you had found something besides to
litigate."

"It must have been Edward Uxbridge that you saw. He is the brain
of the firm."

"You expect Mr. Van Horn?"

"Oh, he must come; I can not be writing letters."

We had been in Newport two weeks when Mr. Van Horn, Aunt Eliza's
lawyer, came. He said that he would see Mr. Edward Uxbridge.
Between them they might delay a term, which he thought would be
best. "Would Miss Huell ever be ready for a compromise?" he
jestingly asked.

"Are you suspicious?" she inquired.

"No; but the Uxbridge chaps are clever."

He dined with us; and at four o'clock Aunt Eliza graciously asked
him to take a seat in the carriage with me, making some excuse for
not going herself.

"Hullo!" said Mr. Van Horn when we had reached the country road;
"there's Uxbridge now." And he waved his hand to him.

It was indeed the black horse and the same rider that I had met.
He reined up beside us, and shook hands with Mr. Van Horn.