"'Oh, a nice, home-like place—right over there,' indicating its position by a careless wave of the hand; 'nice place, quiet, no music at meals, or that sort of thing. Good cooking, no dogs or children. I came down here to rest. None of the glare and glitter of the Boardwalk hotels for me; no, sir!'
"'What's the name of your place?' I asked.
"'Hasn't any name—just a private cottage; old Southern family, one or two paying guests, you know. They have been coming here for years; never took boarders before, but the head of the house was caught in the Knicknack Trust affair last fall. Funny how many were hurt by that bust-up. Nearly all the boys down in Washington say they were stung. As I remarked, old man Montgomery is rather hard up just now; but proud, dev'lish proud, sir. I consider it a privilege to be taken in. They have rented the cottage next door for their guests. Every convenience.'
"All very fine, but the Judge avoided my direct gaze. Seaward he turned a shifty eye, and I knew that he was lying. He looked depressed and down at the heel, and bore the signs of recent illness. I led him, unresisting to the nearest café, and properly stimulated, he told me that the Washington summer had proven too much for him, that the boys had kindly advanced the wherewithal for a two weeks' stay at the shore, and that he had been very sick, but already felt like a new man.
"I ordered another.
"'While I am very snugly fixed down here, Patsy,' said he confidentially, 'I must confess I was a little disappointed in the location of the cottage. From the picture on the letter-head the waves seemed to be curling under the Boardwalk onto the lower steps of the front porch. Every room with a sea view, and no mosquitos, the circular said. But the printer evidently got hold of the wrong form. We are a durn sight nearer Atlantic Avenue than the Atlantic Ocean!'
"'Regularly buncoed, eh?' I ventured.
"'As a matter of proximity to the sea, yes. But I am sure the Montgomerys are not a party to the deceit. They took the printed matter along with the new cottage, I reckon. How long will you be down, Patsy?'
"'Just the week-end, sir. My, but look over there!' Our eyes were glued on the entrance. Framed in the doorway, with the glare of the white street as a background, stood one of the finest examples of the early Gothic I have ever seen. She gazed haughtily about the room, and at the waiters who rushed to her side. She selected the table next to ours, and dropped into a seat, her attenuated form sharply at right angles, like a half-closed jack-knife. With long bony fingers glistening with rings she raised her veil, and opening a chatelaine bag, pulled out a handkerchief, smelling salts, and a gold-meshed purse. Then, with a murmured order to the waiter, she settled herself comfortably, and with an imperial uplift of the pointed chin the foxy face swung slowly around to us and settled with a grimace of recognition upon the Judge. My old friend reddened, and moved about uneasily.