rom themselves and their heirs
a portion of their property. But the judge, fortunately, was not
conventionally minded, although he had sat upon the bench for upwards of
forty years. He knew that philanthropy was a very wasteful and
mechanical method of attaining an end, and often did great harm to
everybody, because such a little charity made such an immense amount of
social salve. He did not believe that "philanthropy" would appeal in its
common forms to Adelle, certainly not deathbed giving.

She had been through some terrible experiences, that was evident, and
was still more shaken by them than she knew. But she was young, with a
long life presumably to lead, and other children and loves and interests
to blossom in it. Would it not be wise for her to retain her property,
now that she had learned something of the nature of money, and endeavor
by herself to use Clark's Field wisely? It was here that the judge's
musings brought up. He was inclined to have faith in Adelle as a person
for the first time.

We can see how far from the anarchist his philosophy of life led him.
The accidents of life--yes, but mysterious, not merely ironic and
meaningless, accidents! Adelle Clark, the unpromising little girl, the
loud, silly young married woman, was the instrument chosen by Fate--only
the judge said God-sharpened by pain and sorrow to become the
intelligent destiny of Clark's Field. Could the law with all its hedging
and guarding beat that? Could the stone mason or the judge himself or
any human mind select a better executor for Clark's Field than the
unlikely instrument which Fate had chosen? The judge thought not, and
with his own little plan in mind serenely awaited the arrival of the
Clark cousins on this joyous May morning, having previously ordered the
horses and carriage that he commonly used for his outings.

* * * * *

Adelle sat beside the judge in the old-fashioned brougham, and the stone
mason opposite to them, his great brown hands bedded on his knees, his
face critically examining the city landscape. The judge talked chiefly
to the young man, in his humorous and rather garrulous manner,
describing for his benefit the glories of the old city. They plunged
almost at once off the hill into a slum, where in the tall brick
tenements women were hanging out of the windows enjoying the spring day.
The sunshine and the blue sky made the narrow, dirty streets, and the
evil-looking buildin