There was no denying this,—but the Judge was not convinced, and he continued by telling her how many new dresses he would buy her,—how in the spring he’d get her a pony and a silver-mounted side-saddle——
“And let me go to the circus?” she said, that having hitherto been the highest object of her ambition.
“Yes, let you go to the circus,” he replied; “and to Boston and everywhere.”
The bait was a tempting one, and Mildred wavered for a moment,—then just as the Judge thought she was satisfied, she said:
“But that won’t do Oliver any good.”
“Hang Oliver!” exclaimed the Judge; “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll have a lady governess to come into the house and teach you both. So you will see him every day. I’ll get him some new clothes——”
“And send him to college when he’s big enough?” put in Mildred. “He told me once he wished he could go.”
“Great Peter, what next will you want? But I’ll think about the college; and if he learns right smart, and you behave yourself, I reckon maybe I’ll send him.”
The Judge had no idea that Oliver would learn “right smart,” for he did not know him, and he merely made the promise by way of quieting Mildred, who, with this prospect in view, became quite contented in her new quarters, though she did so wish Oliver could know it that night, and looking up in the Judge’s face, she said:
“It’s such a little bit of a ways down there,—couldn’t you go and tell him, or let me. It seems forever till to-morrow.”