“Mr. Harding,” said the Justice, as the arguments in Fenton vs. Fenton closed, “it seems to me the defendant has made out a reasonable case. As you have said, this matter rests wholly in the discretion of the Court, and although we hold the parents joint and equal guardians of their children and do not follow the old world rule that a father has a superior claim to the possession of his offspring, yet, as it seems to me, this is a case where that rule should apply. Mrs. Fenton has left her husband’s house without just cause, as he alleges. She makes no claim for his support, and the complaint, as has been shown, is deficient in its detail. If I am wrong, a trial will set the matter right. In the meantime I award the possession of the children to the father. If you can agree with Mr. Sargent upon the terms of the order, I will make such provision for occasional visits of the mother as justice may——”
A scraping of chairs and rustling of skirts drowned the closing words of the Judge and Sargent turned to see a woman entering the Court Room with two little children at her side. She walked directly toward the counsel’s table, and the restless eye-lashes of the unsexed “painted” her in rapid sweeping glances, now up—now down—and the fat-paunched leerers followed her with looks scarcely less offensive.
“My child, you should not have come here,” whispered Mr. Harding, as he rose and offered her his chair.
She was scarcely more than a girl, but her tall graceful figure bespoke a quiet dignity, and the grey eyes with their steady gaze told of developed character.
Sargent glanced at his client. Fenton must have seen the doubt expressed in the lawyer’s face, for he spoke up sharply.
“Let’s finish this business, Sargent. I suppose I can take the children now.”
But his counsel did not answer, and Fenton, growing impatient, addressed the Court.
“Your Honour, these are my children—I suppose I may take them now?”
The Judge, busy with the signing of papers, frowned but took no other notice of the questioner.