He was having forty winks before luncheon, but during the forty winks he had time to dream. He was facing a crowded courtroom, there was trouble somewhere; he did not seem to know just what it was. A great noise and confusion uprose. He tried to speak, but could not, and in his distress he awoke.
When he went to sleep the room had been quiet, the house was quiet, the street was quiet. Now the noise in his dream seemed to have followed him into real life—or did he fancy it? and he put up a hand as if to stop the singing in his ears. He hoped he was not getting deaf.
There certainly was a noise, a great noise abroad, and it was not in his ears. He heard carriages in the street and banging of doors, loud voices in the hall below, and now there were persons rushing upstairs.
He was still slightly confused. He had a vision of the pigeon listening, her hooded head on one side, her body vibrating with anger, then a dozen or more persons hurried into the room and invaded his armchair.
The Judge sat helplessly back and looked at them. What was the matter?
Foremost among the newcomers was young Mrs. Everest, her face like a poppy, the plumes of her big hat nodding against his white head as she bent over him.
She was almost screaming, she was so excited. “You dear old man, I’ve always wanted to kiss you, and I’m going to do so now.”
The Judge smiled feebly. Did she, too, want to be adopted? He made no resistance, but he certainly made no response as her affectionate arms were thrown round him and a kiss was sweetly placed on his forehead.
It was a congratulatory embrace, he felt that; but what had he done, what had happened?
“Allow me to shake hands and felicitate you,” said a second joyful voice, and Berty’s husband seized and wrung his hand.