a man in Yorkshire who was able to open his eyes to whatever advantages he had, his lawyer, Matthew Rhodes, was that man, and the very next morning he drove into Leeds to see him.
Rhodes was a very large man; he had an eye like the eagle's, piercing and yet cold, and a neck and head thick and aggressive as a bull's. He was a close and eager partisan, and a good fighter for any cause he espoused. Indeed, he loved a desperate fight, and had been frequently known to defend a criminal whose case appeared to be hopeless for the simple delight such forlorn legal struggles gave him.
"Good-morning, Squire," he said; "what can I do for you to-day?"
"I have a quarrel on hand, Rhodes. I want you to fight with me."
"Hum! Who is it with, Squire? And what is it about?"
"It is with Jonathan Burley."
Then Rhodes became interested at once, "Your father-in-law, Squire?"
"Exactly. It is about my wife. Listen!" and Anthony went over the whole affair, carefully.
"Do you want a divorce?"
