e dignity of the judge's private rooms, with their prints
of famous personages, lined bookcases, and rich furniture, was Judge
Orcutt himself. He was the first gentleman she had ever met in any real
sense of the word. And Judge Orcutt was very much of a gentleman in
almost every sense of the word. He came from an old Puritan family, as
American families are reckoned, which had had its worthies for a young
man to respect, and its traditions, not of wealth but of culture and
breeding, kindly humanity, and an interest in life and letters.
Something of this aristocratic inheritance could be felt in his manners
by the two women who were not of his social class and who were treated
with an even greater consideration than if they had been. Adelle liked
also his sober gray suit with the very white linen and black tie, which
he wore like a man who cares more for the cleanliness and propriety of
his person than for fashion. All this and the modulated tones of his
cultivated voice had made a lively impression upon the dumb little girl.
She would have done anything in the world to please the judge, even
defying her aunt if that had been necessary. And she had always stood in
a healthy awe of her vigorous, outspoken aunt.

The first occasion when Adelle had an opinion all her own and announced
it publicly and unasked was due to the judge. Of course the question of
guardianship was much discussed in their very limited circle. Joseph
Lovejoy, the manager of Pike's Livery at the corner of Church
Street,--the Pike whose son Addie Clark had disdained,--was the oldest
and most important of the "roomers." Mr. Lovejoy was of the opinion that
trust companies were risky inventions that might some day disappear in
smoke. He advised the perplexed widow to "hire a smart lawyer" to look
out for her business interests. What did an old probate judge know about
real estate? This was the occasion on which Adelle made her one
contribution: she thought that "Judge Orcutt must be wiser than any
lawyer because he was a judge." A silly answer as the liveryman said,
yet surprising to her aunt. And she added--"He's a gentleman, too,"
though how the little girl discovered it is inexplicable.

The news of the prospective importance of Clark's Field had quickly
spread through Church Street and the Square, where the widow's credit
much improved. Something really seemed about to happen of consequence to
the old Field and the modest remnants of the Clark family.