ng out of his buggy at the
stable door. In the absence of Luke, the hired man, the chief counsel
for the railroad was wont to put up the horse himself, and he already
had the reins festooned from the bit rings when he felt a heavy, hand on
his shoulder and heard a voice say:--"How are you, Judge?"

If the truth be told, that voice and that touch threw the Honourable
Hilary's heart out of beat. Many days he had been schooling himself
for this occasion: this very afternoon he had determined his course of
action, which emphatically did not include a fatted calf. And now surged
up a dryad-like memory which had troubled him many a wakeful night, of
startled, appealing eyes that sought his in vain, and of the son she had
left him flinging himself into his arms in the face of chastisement. For
the moment Hilary Vane, under this traitorous influence, was unable to
speak. But he let the hand rest on his shoulder, and at length was
able to pronounce, in a shamefully shaky voice, the name of his son.
Whereupon Austen seized him by the other shoulder and turned him round
and looked into his face.

"The same old Judge," he said.

But Hilary was startled, even as Euphrasia had been. Was this strange,
bronzed, quietly humorous young man his son? Hilary even had to raise
his eyes a little; he had forgotten how tall Austen was. Strange
emotions, unbidden and unwelcome, ran riot in his breast; and Hilary
Vane, who made no slips before legislative committees or supreme courts,
actually found himself saying:--"Euphrasia's got your room ready."

"It's good of you to take me in, Judge," said Austen, patting his
shoulder. And then he began, quite naturally to unbuckle the breechings
and loose the traces, which he did with such deftness and celerity that
he had the horse unharnessed and in the stall in a twinkling, and had
hauled the buggy through the stable door, the Honourable Hilary watching
him the while. He was troubled, but for the life of him could find no
adequate words, who usually had the dictionary at his disposal.

"Didn't write me why you came home," said the Honourable Hilary, as his
son washed his hands at the spigot.

"Didn't I? Well, the truth was I wanted to see you again, Judge."

His father grunted, not with absolute displeasure, but suspiciously.

"How about Blodgett?" he asked.

"Blodgett? Have you heard about that? Who told you?"

"Never mind. You didn't. Nothing in your letter about it."

"It wasn't worth me