little more bent
over his high bench. He was still that courteous, slightly distant
gentleman from another age, whose mind behind the dreamy eyes seemed
eternally occupied with larger matters than the administration and
disposal of human property. He remembered Adelle, or professed to, and
gave her a kindly old man's smile when he shook hands with her, in spite
of all the _reclame_ of her indecorous return to her native land. He
said nothing of that, however, but refreshed his memory by consulting a
little book where he entered all sorts of curious items not strictly
legal that occurred to him in connection with important cases. From
these pages he easily revived all the details of Adelle, her aunt, and
the now famous Clark's Field.

Looking up from his book, he scrutinized with unusual interest the young
woman who had come before him after an absence of seven years. He was
reflecting, perhaps, that, although she was unaware of the fact, he had
played the part to her in an important crisis of a wise and beneficent
Providence. In all likelihood he had preserved for her the chance of
possessing the large fortune which she was about to receive with his
approval from the Washington Trust Company. No wonder that he looked
keenly at the young woman standing before him! What was she now? What
had she done with herself these seven crucial years of her life to
prepare herself for her good fortune and justify his care of her
interests? How had the enjoyment of ease and the expectation of coming
wealth, with all its opening of gates and widening of horizons, affected
little Adelle Clark--the insignificant drudge from the Alton
rooming-house?...

Judge Orcutt no longer published thin volumes of poetry. The bar said
that he was now devoting himself more seriously to his profession. The
truth was, perhaps, that in face of his accumulating knowledge of life
and human beings, he no longer had the incentive to write lyrics. The
poetry, however, was there ineradicably in his soul, affecting his
judgments,--the lawyers still called him "cranky" or "erratic,"--and
giving even to routine judicial acts a significance and dignity little
suspected by the careless practitioners in his court.... And so this
elderly gentleman, for he had crossed the sixty mark by now, recalled
the timid, pale-faced, undersized girl, with her "common" aunt, who
seven years before had appeared in his court and to whom he had been the
instrument of giving riches.