He watched the Craigs drive away, and went back upstairs to the long corridor. Becky heard his step and opened the door of the sickroom.
“Come in here, Billie,” she said. It was the first time that Billie had ever been in his grandfather’s room. He stood inside the door, a sturdy figure, barefooted and tanned, with eyes oddly like those that surveyed him from the pillow. He hesitated a moment, but the Judge put out his hand, a strong bony one, and Billie gripped it in his broad one.
“I’m awfully glad you’re better, Grandfather,” he said, a bit shyly.
“So am I, Billie, last night I thought my hour had come, but I guess it was only a warning. A meeting with the Button Molder perhaps. Do you know about him? No? You must read ‘Peer Gynt.’ A boy of your age should be well read.”
“And when has he had any chance to get well read, I’d like to know?” demanded Rebecca, in swift defense of her favorite. “The boy finished the district school a year ago. Been learning everything he knows since then from Ben, your hired help. If the Lord has spared you for any purpose, Dick, it is to bring up Billie right and teach him all you know.”
“Well, well, quit scolding me, Becky. Do as you like with him. I’ll supply the money.” The Judge pressed Billie’s hand almost with affection. “What do you want to be?”
“A lawyer or a naturalist,” was Billie’s prompt reply.
“Be both. They’re good antidotes for each other. Talk it over with him, Becky, and do as you think best.”
He closed his eyes, and Billie took it as a signal to leave the room, but the Judge spoke again.
“Where do you sleep, Bill?”