weary. I've had a hard day. I want
you to go on up to the house now--the servants will make you comfortable
until I come. Just now I was afraid you were going on over with Aurora
Lane to her house."

"Not yet, Uncle," said she. "Perhaps at some later time, if you cast me
out."

He only groaned at this thrust.

She passed, a cool picture of youth, self-possessed and calm. He heard
her foot tapping fainter as it descended the stair, listened to hear if
she might come back again. But Anne went on down the street steadily,
looking straight ahead of her. Already, it seemed to her, she had grown
old. To those who saw her she seemed a beautiful young woman.

"That's Don Lane's girl," said one ancient to another, back of his hand.
"Lives over at Columbus. He kissed her right there on the depot
platform, this very morning. Huh!"

"I don't blame him," rejoined the other, with a coarse laugh. "But he
ain't apt to get many more chances now. I wonder how he fooled her about
himself--and her the judge's ward, or something."

"Nerve?" said his friend. "He's got nerve enough to a-done anything. But
I guess they got him dead to rights this time."

"Yeh. The _town's_ got him dead to rights. No matter what the law----"
he stopped, his head up, as though sniffing at something in the air.
"Gawd!" said he. "Wasn't that music a awful thing! I can feel it in my
bones right now. It makes me feel----"

"It makes a feller feel like doing something more'n being just sad! It
makes a feller feel like--well----"

"Like _startin'_ something!"

The other nodded, grimly, his mouth caved in at the corners, tight shut
now.

CHAPTER XV

THE ANGELS AND MISS JULIA

Anne scarcely had left the office when Judge Henderson, stepping into
the inner room, pulled open a certain door of a cabinet beneath the
washhand-stand. He drew forth a half-filled bottle of whisky, shook it
once meditatively, and poured himself an adequate drink, refreshing
himself with water at the tap. He stood for a moment, the half-emptied
glass in his hand, looking at his features in the little glass which
hung above the cabinet.

Not an unpleasant face it seemed to him; for so slowly had the lines
come in his features, so slowly the gray in his hair, that almost he was
persuaded they were not there at all. Delayed by the mirror to the
extent of having consumed but half of his refreshing draft, yet
purposing further imbibition, Judge Henderson paused at the sound