The Opened Shutters Part 27

"Yes. Kind of a touchin' meetin', I expect," remarked Mrs. Lem, lifting her pompadour and sighing sentimentally. Judge Trent had surprised her in a state of sleek and simple coiffure; but no sooner had his high hat disappeared down the hill than she flew into the bedroom and remedied the modest workaday appearance of her head; nor would the pompadour abate one half inch of its majestic proportions until he took his train back to Boston. She hoped she knew what was due to the lord of all he surveyed.

"How long has he been gone?" asked Thinkright.

"Oh, the best part of an hour, I should say."

"Then he must have found her," remarked the other, still with his speculative smile.

"Yes, indeed, and I hope she'll bring him home soon. It's real raw on the water to-day in spite of the sun, and the judge's bronicals ain't jest as strong as they might be."

"Oh, Mrs. Lem, Mrs. Lem," laughed Thinkright quietly, entering the house and hanging up his hat.

"There they come now!" she exclaimed, herself hastily retreating into the kitchen.

Thinkright looked out to see Sylvia's uncovered bright head level with the judge's high hat as they strolled up the hill. The lawyer's hands were clasped behind his back, and Thinkright augured peace from the deliberation of the strollers.

He met them at the door. Sylvia's grave face changed to a pensive smile at sight of him, and Judge Trent gave his cousin's hand a dry, short shake.

"How are you, Thinkright? See if you can't find a light boat and manageable oars for Sylvia in this vicinity. I found her catching crabs and losing oars at a great rate down there, and splashing herself till she resembled a mermaid. h.e.l.lo, Minty," for here the child drew her doubtful and reluctant feet into the room, her wide eyes always a little shy at first of the brusque and powerful man in the high hat. "I have something for you." The judge began feeling in his coat pocket. "I bought you a bag of gumdrops, and regret that I forgot and have been sitting on them all the afternoon." He produced the paper bag.

"Fortunately, they are the durable brand for sale at the village and warranted to withstand any pressure. At worst they will be lozenges now."

"Why did you surprise us?" asked Thinkright, as Minty beamingly accepted the striped bag. "Why didn't you let me send the team over?"

"Oh, you know I'm a creature of impulse," returned the lawyer, with his dry smile; "I acted with my usual lack of calculation. Made up my mind to come one minute, and took the train the next."

Thinkright did not reply, but glanced toward Sylvia, who was pulling the blue sweater off over her head.

CHAPTER XIV

BLIND MAN'S HOLIDAY

Upon Judge Trent's return to town John Dunham did not disappear in a cloud of dust to make his call on Miss Derwent. He took the precaution to telephone, and discovered that she was out of the city.

He felt considerable curiosity regarding his employer's experiences at the farm, but true to his new and safe policy he asked not a single question. Business required the judge's immediate attention upon his arrival, but as soon as affairs in the office quieted he remembered the promise he had made Dunham.

"Now then, boy," he said one morning, "there isn't any reason why you can't run along to-day and call on Miss Derwent."

"The bird has flown. I 'phoned to the house. She has gone to New York to be a bridesmaid. Isn't coming back till time to leave for Maine."

"H'm. Too bad," returned the judge absent-mindedly.

"Thank you. Don't let it depress you."

"Eh?" looking up; Dunham was bending over the morning mail.

"Ever been in that Cas...o...b..y region?" went on the judge.

"Yes, I yachted along the coast from Bar Harbor to Portland one summer."

"It's a fine, unspoiled part of the world," remarked the lawyer with unusual pensiveness, setting his hat farther back from his forehead and looking into s.p.a.ce. "When I get a glimpse of it as I did this week, I'm tempted to hasten my retirement, to bid farewell to the squabbling world, and turn fisherman,--begin to spread nets for mackerel instead of my fellow men, and trap only such lobsters as will blush in a pot instead of in court."

"Hear, hear," said Dunham. "You must have had good weather up there,--or else," he added, "fallen in love with your niece."

Judge Trent still looked into s.p.a.ce. "Yes," he went on slowly, "move my books to the Mill Farm, leave Hannah the house, but not my address, and begin rising at 4 A.M. for breakfast with Cap'n Lem. Then row out to my pound, take in the fish, and send them to Boston. What retaining fee could compare to the satisfaction of making money that way? Think of the sights and sounds, the peace of mind!"

"Yes," said John, "but consider the obstacles."

"There wouldn't be any. I'd leave the good will of the office to you."

"I'm very grateful, but you forget. What would any well-regulated fish say to afternoon dress at 4 A.M., and wouldn't the wind blow your hat off?"

"John, you're a frivolous youth," responded the judge thoughtfully; "but," in a warmer tone, "there are some things you do very well.

I"--still more warmly--"I have a little commission for you this afternoon."

Dunham looked up suspiciously.

"It happens very nicely that you don't wish to go to Boston to-day. I think it is due Miss Lacey that she should receive news of her niece's welfare. She knows I've been up there and"--

"Yes, she does know it," interrupted John with emphasis. "She is waiting with great eagerness to hear your report."

"Precisely," returned the judge mildly. "Now I'll tell you all about it."

"Why do you tell me?" inquired Dunham firmly.

"How can you tell Miss Lacey if I don't?"

"I'm not going to tell her."

"Why not? You've been there once."

"My dear Judge Trent," began John impressively, "I was late in coming to it, I know; but I have lately been turning my talents to minding my own business"--

"Which is mine," put in Judge Trent. "It's what I engaged you for."

"Well and good, but not to attend to your pleasures," retorted John, with a grin; "your family and domestic affairs. You will naturally visit Miss Lacey this afternoon. You couldn't do less."

The judge scowled. "I might call her up on the 'phone," he said gloomily.

"You might," returned John, "if you could send her a mind wave which would draw her to the corner grocery. I have had one appointment made by postcard, to speak to her at the corner grocery."

"Call it up, then, and ask them to send for her," commanded the judge curtly.

"Certainly, if you say so," responded Dunham, "but don't you think if she got you on the wire from there, her conversation might be too entertaining and instructive to the listeners? Her methods at the 'phone are--unusual. The day we talked I heard her distinctly through the window as well as over the wire."

Judge Trent groaned. "I haven't crossed her threshold in ten years, but I suppose I shall have to do it if you're going to be so confoundedly obstinate and disobliging."