e at
Hardville, you say? Oh, Flora Burgess, I could go down on my knees in
thanksgiving. I want you to run right out as fast as you can and get on
the next Interurban car from Endbury. Lydia's on it--" she cast caution
from her desperately--"and I've just heard that there's somebody I
don't want her to talk to--you know--_carpenters_--run--fly--never mind
what they say! Make them talk to you, too!"

She turned back to her husband, transfigured with triumph. "I guess
that'll put a spoke in _his_ wheel!" she cried. "Flora Burgess's at
Hardville, and that's only half an hour from here. I guess they can't
get very far in half an hour."

The Judge considered the matter with pursed lips. "I wish it hadn't
happened," he mused, as unresponsive to his wife's relief as he had been
to her anxiety. "At first, I mean--last autumn--at all."

His wife caught him up with a good humor gay with relief. "Oh, give you
time, Nat, and you come round to seeing what's under your nose. I was
wishing it hadn't happened long before I knew it had. I breathed it in
the air before we ever knew she'd so much as seen him."

"Melton says he thinks the fellow has a future before him--"

"Oh, Marius Melton! How many of his swans have stuffed feather pillows!"

The Judge demurred. "I often wish I could think he _was_--but Melton's
no fool." He added, uneasily, "He's been pestering me again about taking
a long rest--says I'm really out of condition."

"Perhaps a change of work would do you good--to be in active practice
again. You could be your own master more--take more vacations, maybe."

The Judge surveyed her with a whimsical smile. "I'd make a lot more
money in practice," he admitted.

If she heard this comment she made no sign, but went on, "You do work
too constantly, too. I've always said so! If you'd be willing to take a
little more relaxation--go out more--"

Judge Emery shuddered. "Endbury tea-parties--!"

His wife, half-way up the stairs, laughed down at him. "Tea-parties!
There hasn't been a tea-party given in Endbury since we were wearing
pull-backs."

The laugh was so good-natured that the Judge hoped for a favorable
opening and ventured to say irrelevantly, as though reverting
automatically to a subject always in his mind, "But, honest, Susie,
can't we shave expenses down some? This winter is costing--"

She turned on him, not resentfully this time, but with a solemn appeal.
"Why, Nat! Lydia's season! The last winter we'll ha