"Yes. She isn't well, Perkins."
"She will be better down here, sir," said Perkins. "She is like her father, you know, sir—likes the water—"
"Perkins—" after a pause.
"Yes, sir."
"Do you think—he is alive?"
It was the first time in years that the Judge had spoken of his son. Perkins stopped brushing the crumbs from the table, and came and stood beside his master, looking into the fire thoughtfully.
"Miss Judy thinks he is, sir," he said at last.
"I know—"
"And I find that it's the women that's mostly right in such things," went on Perkins. "A man now only knows what he sees, but, Lord, sir, a woman knows things without seein'. Sort of takes them on faith, sir."
"The uncertainty is bad for Judy," said the Judge, the deep lines showing in his care-worn face.