She did not tell the judge that if she should give these California Clarks one half of the fortune she had received from Clark's Field, she should be poor, perhaps destitute.
"But before you decide to do anything, you must make up your mind very carefully, for it cannot be undone. Are you quite sure that you are doing the wisest thing in turning over such a large fortune to persons you know almost nothing about?"
"I know him—the mason, and I think it would be safer with him than with me."
The judge smiled enigmatically.
"If he would take it from me like that—perhaps he need not know?" she asked.
"I think that he had better know!... Bring him to see me when he comes and we can talk it over together, all three of us," the judge suggested.
"I will do that!"
"And now I want you to give me the pleasure of lunching with me, a very simple old man's lunch, when we can talk about other things than money!" And with another gentle smile the judge took Adelle's arm and hobbled out to the next room.
A cheerful bar of sunlight fell across the small table between the two napkins and made the old silver gleam. Adelle felt more at peace, more calmly content with life, than she had since the death of her child. She was sure that somehow it was all coming out right, not only the money from Clark's Field, but also her own troubled life, although she could not see the precise steps to be taken. As usual her destiny, after leading her by many devious routes, brought her to the one door where she might obtain light....
"Tell me," said her host in his courteous tones, "about your California—I have always wanted to go there some day."