of
them that a new page in the book of destiny had been turned for them.
Yet even in Adelle's small, silent brain there must have penetrated a
consciousness of the place,--the home as it were of her new
guardian,--and such a magnificent home that it inspired at once both
timidity and pride. The two women wandered about the banking floor for
some minutes, peering through the various grilles at the busy clerks,
observing the careless profusion of notes, gold, and documents of value
that seemed piled on every desk, as if to indicate ostentatiously the
immensity of the property interests confided to the company's care. At
last, after they had been rebuffed by several busy clerks, a uniformed
attendant found them and inquired their business. The widow handed to
him the card she had received from the probate judge, and the usher at
once led them to an elegant little private elevator that shot them
upwards through the floors of the bank to the upper story. Here, in a
small, heavily rugged room behind a broad mahogany table, they met Mr.
John Gardiner, then the "trust officer" of the Washington Trust Company.
He was a heavy, serious-minded, bald man of middle age, and Adelle at
once made up her mind that she liked him far less than the judge. The
trust officer did not rise on their entrance as the judge always had
risen; merely nodded to them, motioned to some chairs against the wall,
and continued writing on a memorandum pad. Both the widow and Adelle
felt that they were not of much importance to the Washington Trust
Company, which was precisely what the trust company liked to have its
clients feel.

"Well," Mr. Gardiner said at last, clearing his voice, "so you are Mrs.
John Clark and Miss Adelle Clark?"

Of course he knew the fact, but some sort of introduction must be made.
Mrs. Clark, who was sitting hostilely on the edge of her chair, hugging
to herself a little black bag, nodded her head guardedly in response.

"I presume you have come to see me about the guardianship matter," the
trust officer continued. Then he fussed for some moments among the
papers on his desk as if he were hunting for something, which he at last
found. He seized the paper with relief, and took another furtive look at
his visitors from under his gold glasses as if to make sure that no
mistake had been made and began again:--

"At the request of Judge Orcutt,"--he pronounced the probate judge's
name with unction and emphasis,--"we have looked int