The Judge smiled and stepped out on the balcony.
He looked down on a calm, homelike scene. All about him were handsome houses standing in their own grounds. The snow lay thickly over everything now, even the trees were laden with it, but the winter scene had a beauty of its own. The day was not cold; it was barely freezing. Roblee was sweeping the concrete in front of the stable in his shirt sleeves. Two of the maids were brushing a rug at the back door, and Mrs. Blodgett was standing in the sunshine watching them, with nothing but an apron thrown over her head.
Presently Dallas came through the stable and down the walk to the house. The Judge noticed what a kind smile he threw each of the servants as he passed them and how respectfully they eyed him.
He waited till he heard the lad coming up the stairs and through the hall outside his study, then he stepped out to meet him.
How well the boy looked! His new clothes had come the day before. In deference to his wishes, the Judge had ordered black for him. Dallas had been very much touched—indeed, he had almost broken down—and he had confided the information to the Judge that his inability to put on mourning for his beloved father had been a great grief to him.
“Dallas,” said the Judge, kindly, “Mr. Folsom expects you to-morrow evening. You must take the early morning train from here.”
A quick, heavy shadow passed over the boy’s face, but he said, composedly, “Very well, sir. I shall be ready.” Then he passed on to his room upstairs.
With a strange sinking of the heart the Judge paced slowly up and down the hall. He was sorry to send the lad away, very sorry indeed, for he feared that he did not want to go.
Presently he paused in his walk and went to the big hall window overlooking the street. Where was Bethany? The mild afternoon was drawing to a close. It would soon be dark; she ought to be in. Just after dinner she had gone for a drive with him, then had asked permission to take some flowers to a sick child a few doors away, but she should have returned by this time. Ah! there she was, crossing the street. But what was the child doing?
The Judge’s eyes were affectionately fastened on the little white-fur figure coming toward the house. In the middle of the snowy avenue she had paused. A coal cart, lately passing, had shaken off some black lumps on the street. Bethany was surveying these lumps with interest. “Now, what has she got in her little head?” thought the Judge with amusement.