Jim hung his head. Mather was after him surely; and what could he say to his mother?
"Stephen will come round," said Mrs. Harmon. "Leave him to me."
"Oh," cried Jim, "you will help me? Just a little, Mrs. Harmon?"
"Why should I?" she asked archly. She was very close now, and was looking in his eyes.
"For our friendship," he answered.
"Friendship!" she repeated. Her tone roused him; he looked, and her glance kindled his. "Only friendship?" she asked softly.
"Oh!" he breathed, and caught her in his arms.
Again came the cursed interruption of the jangling door-bell. "You shall not go!" he said, holding her fast. She murmured, "I do not wish to." They stood motionless, and heard the servant pass through the hall and open the front door. They listened, ready to spring apart.
"The Judge?" the servant asked. "Yes, in his study. This way." Again the footsteps and the rustling skirt passed the door. The two in the parlour waited until the door of the Judge's study opened and shut. Then Jim lowered his head upon the one that nestled at his shoulder.