“What did you say?” he asked, recalling her from her reverie of him.
“Oh!” she said; “only this—maybe he won’t feel like coming around here any more. You know you practically sent him away.”
The judge gave a little laugh.
“I guess that will work itself out. Anyway I’ll leave it to you—or to them.”
Still smiling at his own humor, he turned the door-knob, and then hesitated. His smile had vanished.
“She’s so young,” he said with a regret. “She’s so young. How old did you say you were when we were married?”
“Eighteen,” Mrs. Blair replied.
“And Lavinia can’t be more than—”
“Why, she’s twenty,” said Mrs. Blair.
“So she is,” said the judge. “So she is. But then you—”