of the beverage, and Mrs. Burwell had once exclaimed that "the judge was
prouder of Caesar's fame at the bar than of his own."

"It is an art that is becoming extinct, madam," the judge had replied
sadly. "I should wager there are more men in the State to-day who can
make a speech than can mix a julep. Caesar's distinction is greater than
mine."

To-day, as Nicholas entered, the judge greeted him hospitably and called
for another concoction. When Caesar brought it, frosted and clear and
odorous, the judge raised his own goblet and bowed to his caller.

"To your future, my boy," he said graciously; then, as Nicholas blushed
and stammered, he asked kindly:

"How are you getting on now?"

"Very well."

"So well that you wouldn't like a change?"

Nicholas threw a startled look upon him. His pulse beat swiftly, and his
skin burned. By these physical reactions he realised the fluttering of
his hopes.

"A change!" he said slowly, holding himself in hand. "Yes,
I--should--like a change."

The judge sipped his julep, breathing with enjoyment the strong
fragrance of the mint.

"I have just seen my friend, Professor Hartwell, of the University," he
said, "and he mentioned to me that in the work of compiling his law-book
he found great need of a secretary. It at once occurred to me that it
was a suitable opening for you, and I ventured to suggest as much to
him--"

He paused an instant, gazing thoughtfully into his glass.

"And he?" urged Nicholas hurriedly.

"He would like some correspondence with you, I believe; but, if the
prospect pleases you, and you would care to undertake the work--"

"Care?" gasped the younger man passionately; "care! Why I--I'd sell my
soul for the chance."

The judge laughed softly.

"Such extreme measures are unnecessary, I think. No doubt it can be
arranged. I understand from your father that he has tided over his last
failures."

But Nicholas did not hear him; the words of release were ringing in his
ears.

* * * * *

The year that Nicholas Burr "worked" his way to a degree at the
University of the State Tom Bassett returned to Kingsborough and took up
that portion of the judge's practice which he termed "local"; and his
fellow citizens, whose daily existence was proof of their belief in
hereditary virtues, brought their legal difficulties to his door. He was
a stout, flaxen-haired young fellow, with broad shoulders and honest,
light-blue eyes,