Lemorne Versus Huell | Page 3

me the outlines of a letter
she desired me to write to her lawyer in New York. Something had
turned up, he had written her; the Uxbridges believed that they had
ferreted out what would go against her. I told her that I had met the
Uxbridge carriage.
"One of them is in New York; how else could they be giving me

trouble just now?"
"There was a gentleman on horseback beside the carriage."
"Did he look mean and cunning?"
"He did not wear his legal beaver up, I think; but he rode a fine horse
and sat it well."
"A lawyer on horseback should, like the beggar of the adage, ride to the
devil."
"Your business now is the 'Lemorne?'"
"You know it is."
"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.
"We are required to answer this new complaint?" said Mr. Van Horn.
Mr. Uxbridge nodded.
"And after that the judgment?"
Mr. Uxbridge laughed.
"I wish that certain gore of land had been sunk instead of being mapped
in 1835."
"The surveyor did his business well enough, I am sure."
They talked together in a low voice for a few minutes, and then Mr.
Van Horn leaned back in his seat again. "Allow me," he said, "to
introduce you, Uxbridge, to Miss Margaret Huell, Miss Huell's niece.
Huell *vs.* Brown, you know," he added, in an explanatory tone; for I
was Huell *vs.* Brown's daughter. "Oh!" said Mr. Uxbridge bowing,
and looking at me gravely. I looked at him also; he was a pale,
stern-looking man, and forty years old certainly. I derived the
impression at once that he had a domineering disposition, perhaps from
the way in which he controlled his horse.
"Nice beast that," said Mr. Van Horn.
"Yes," he answered, laying his hand on its mane, so that the action
brought immediately to my mind the recollection that I had done so too.
I would not meet his eye again, however.
"How long shall you remain, Uxbridge?"
"I don't know. You are not interested in the lawsuit, Miss Huell?" he
said, putting on his hat.

"Not in the least; nothing of mine is involved."
"We'll gain it for your portion yet, Miss Margaret," said Mr. Van Horn,
nodding to Mr. Uxbridge, and bidding William drive on. He returned
the next day, and we settled into the routine of hotel life. A few
mornings after, she sent me to a matinee, which was given by some of
the Opera people, who were in Newport strengthening the larynx with
applications of brine. When the concert was half over, and the audience
were making the usual hum and stir, I saw Mr. Uxbridge against a
pillar, with his hands incased in pearl-colored gloves, and holding a
shiny hat. He turned half away when he caught my eye, and then darted
toward me.
"You have not been much more interested in the music than you are in
the lawsuit," he said, seating himself beside me.
"The *tutoyer* of the Italian voice is agreeable, however."
"It makes one dreamy."
"A child."
"Yes, a child; not a man nor a woman."
"I teach music. I can not dream over 'one, two, three.'"
"*You*--a music teacher!"
"For six years."
I was aware that he looked at me from head to foot, and I picked at the
lace on my invariable black silk; but what did it matter whether I
owned that I was a genteel pauper, representing my aunt's position for
two months, or not?
"Where?"
"In Waterbury."

"Waterbury differs from Newport."
"I suppose so."
"You suppose!"
A young gentleman sauntered by us, and Mr. Uxbridge called to him to
look up the Misses Uxbridge, his nieces, on the other side of the hall.
"Paterfamilias Uxbridge has left his brood in my