CHAPTER XI.
AN AWAKENING.
Judge Thorn sat looking over the evening paper.
Lost in her own thoughts, Jean sat in the shadow of a palm idly thrumming a guitar, the soft pliant strains corresponding well with the expression of her face.
A sudden exclamation from her father caused her to look up.
His profile alone was visible to her, but there is an expression in outlines when one understands the subject, and she knew that something of an unusually puzzling or distressing nature engaged him.
Eagerly watching, she played on softly.
Presently the judge crushed the paper into a ball and with another exclamation of disgust threw it across the room where it rolled behind a scrap basket under a desk. At sight of so uncommon a procedure Jean went to her father's side.
"What news, father mine? What news?" she asked.
Judge Thorn pointed in the direction of the wadded paper.