"You don't know what that means," returned Miss Martha fervently. "After that dreadful talk about the stage, and marrying actors, I didn't know as she'd be willing to stay in the country with a plain man like Thinkright."
"She doesn't think he's plain. She considers him a mixture of Adonis and Solomon."
"Very well. Whatever you may see fit to do, Calvin, I shall thank God on my bended knees," declared Miss Martha devoutly. "To think that her immortal soul isn't lost and our two families disgraced through our—own—fault, is a blessing we don't either of us deserve."
"Rub it in, Martha, rub it in," returned the judge.
"No, I'm not one of the nagging kind. I don't intend to rub it in, but I'll own it, once and for all. Go on, please. What else?"
Judge Trent waved his hands. "Nothing else, practically."
"Why, there must be a lot more to tell. If I'd been the one to go up there I should have a thousand things to tell you."
The lawyer raised one devout glance toward the ceiling. "I'm sure of it, Martha; but you know the limitations of a mere man. Beside, I suppose pretty soon now you will be seeing for yourself. Miss Derwent said she should go early this season."
"Why, yes. Next week. I just received the letter to-day. It comes as a surprise, and I shall have to hurry, getting ready to close my house. Edna hadn't expected to be free so quickly, but her parents' plans have changed, and so hers can. She's been up at the farm, too, and seen Sylvia, you know."
"Yes. We all know Sylvia now," returned the judge with grim humor.