"She wants to tie blue ribbons around its neck and chuck it under the chin," explained John.
"Ah, I see," said the judge, smiling grimly as he remembered Sylvia's comments on the mill the first day he met her.
"There's Thinkright," cried Sylvia, suddenly breaking from her companions and running fleetly toward the house.
With one accord the two men watched her greet the third by kissing him first on one cheek and then on the other.
"It was only one of yours, Judge," said Dunham. "If I were you I'd call him out."
"I don't grudge it to him," returned the lawyer. "She's making up to him for her mother's lack."
He waited a moment, hoping John would continue on the subject. He had thought often of his niece since his last visit, and in the past days had heard only good words for her; but Thinkright might be expected to be partial to Laura's child, and the Fosters were scarcely judges. He wished very much to learn the opinion of the girl which would be formed by a man of John's world and experience. Dunham kept silent as they pursued their measured walk, and the judge's desire forced the question.
"Well, and how do you find Miss Lacey, now you've had a near view?"
"Oh—Miss Lacey. Yes. Brisk and busy as a little bumblebee. The round peg in the round hole, as you might say."
"H'm," returned the judge. "I'm interested to know how she strikes a man of your sort."