Judge Blair and Lavinia returned home Saturday.

“I guess it’s no use,” the judge said to Mrs. Blair when she had followed him up stairs, where he had gone to wash off the dust he had accumulated during the six hours the train had consumed in jerking itself from Sandusky to Macochee.

“No, I could see how relieved she was to get home,” replied Mrs. Blair, musing idly out of the window. She was not so sure that she was pleased with the result she had done her part to accomplish.

“I guess you were right,” the judge said.

“I?” asked Mrs. Blair, suddenly turning round.

“Yes—in saying that it would be best not to dignify it by too much notice. That might only add to its seriousness.”

Mrs. Blair looked out of the window again.

“Of course,” the judge went on presently, “I wouldn’t want it considered as an engagement.”

“Of course not,” Mrs. Blair acquiesced.

“You’d better have a talk with her,” he said. She saw that he was seeking his usual retreat in such cases, and she was now determined not to take the responsibility. Spiritually they tossed this responsibility back and forth between them, like a shuttlecock.

“But wouldn’t that make it look as if we were taking too much notice of it?”

“Well,” the judge said, “I don’t know. Do just as you think best.”

“Didn’t you talk to her about it when you were away?” Mrs. Blair asked.

“M-m yes,” the judge said slowly.

“And what did she say?”

“Nothing much, only—”

“Only what?”

“Only that she would not give him up.”

“Oh!”

Mrs. Blair waited, and the judge dawdled at his toilet. Some compulsion she could not resist, though she tried, distrusting her own weakness, drove Mrs. Blair to speak first, and even then she sought to minimize the effect of her surrender.

“Of course, Will,” she said, “I want to be guided by you in this matter. It’s really quite serious.”

“Oh, well,” he said, “you’re capable of managing it.”

“You said you knew his father, didn’t you?” she asked after a while.

“Slightly; why?”

“I was just wishing that we knew more of the family. You know they have not lived in Macochee long.”

“That’s true,” the judge assented, realizing all that the objection meant.

“And yet,” Mrs. Blair reassured him, though she was trying to reassure herself at the same time, “his father is a minister; that ought to count for something.”

“Yes, it ought, and still you know they say that ministers’ sons are always—”

“But,” Mrs. Blair interrupted, as if he were wholly missing the point, “ministers’ families always have a standing, I think.”

They were silent, then, until Mrs. Blair began:

“I suppose I really ought to call on Mrs. Marley.”

“Why?”

“Well, it seems, you know—it seems to me that I ought.”

“But wouldn’t that—?”

“I considered that, and still, it might seem more so if I didn’t, don’t you see?”

The judge tried to grasp the attenuated point, and expressed his failure in the sigh with which he stooped to fasten his shoes. Then he drew on his alpaca coat, and just as he was leaving the room, his wife stopped him with:

“But, Will!”

He halted with his hand on the door-knob. For an instant his wife looked at him in pleasure. He was rather handsome, with his white hair combed gravely, his ruddy face fresh from his shaving, and his stiff, white collar about his neck.

“What did you say?” he asked, recalling her from her reverie of him.

“Oh!” she said; “only this—maybe he won’t feel like coming around here any more. You know you practically sent him away.”

The judge gave a little laugh.

“I guess that will work itself out. Anyway I’ll leave it to you—or to them.”

Still smiling at his own humor, he turned the door-knob, and then hesitated. His smile had vanished.

“She’s so young,” he said with a regret. “She’s so young. How old did you say you were when we were married?”

“Eighteen,” Mrs. Blair replied.

“And Lavinia can’t be more than—”

“Why, she’s twenty,” said Mrs. Blair.

“So she is,” said the judge. “So she is. But then you—”

Mrs. Blair had come close to him, and stood picking a bit of thread from his shoulder.

“It was different with us, wasn’t it, dear?” she said, looking up at him.

He kissed her.