"Mother," said Julia, "are all young men really like this proud, haughty, sensitive fellow? and yet he is so unhappy! Was father at all like him?"
"I don't know. You must remember that few at his age have been placed in such trying positions, and had he been less, or more, or different, we might have been without cause for gratitude to him."
"Well, he graciously permits us to know that he may at least once again approach 'Your father's house!'"
"Julia! Could he have done it before?"
"Could he not, mother, when he saved my life?"
"Julia, was this poor youth more than human?"
"Mother, I have sometimes felt that he was, and that somehow more was to be required of him than of common men."
The Judge sat in silence, with an expression that indicated that his reflections were not wholly cheerful. The frank words that this youth had always liked him, and that the Judge had cause for dislike, so generous, were like so many stabs.
"Papa Judge," said Julia, suddenly springing to her father's side, "may I have him?"
"Have him! Who?"