our mother getting along?"

The boy's face paled.

"She died three weeks ago," he answered.

"Oh, my lad," he exclaimed in shocked tones, "I didn't know! I only
returned last night from a long journey. But with whom are you
living?"

"With Aunt M'ri and Uncle Barnabas."

"Oh!"

The impressive silence following this exclamation was broken by the
Judge.

"Why do you offer me these flowers, David?"

"Aunt M'ri picked them and told me to give them to some one who looked
as if they needed flowers."

The Judge eyed him with the keen scrutiny of the trained lawyer, but
the boy's face was non-committal.

"Come up into my office with me, David," commanded the Judge, turning
quickly into a near-by stairway. David followed up the stairs and into
a suite of well-appointed offices.

A clerk looked up in surprise at the sight of the dignified judge
carrying a bouquet of old-fashioned roses and accompanied by a country
lad.

"Good morning, Mathews. I am engaged, if any one comes."

He preceded David into a room on whose outer door was the deterrent
word, "Private."

While the Judge got a pitcher of water to hold the flowers David
crossed the room. On a table near the window was a rack of books
which he eagerly inspected. To his delight he saw a volume of
Andersen's Fairy Tales. Instantly the book was opened, and he was
devouring a story.

"David," spoke the Judge from the other end of the room, "didn't these
roses grow on a bush by the west porch?"

There was no answer.

The Judge, remarking the boy's absorption, came to see what he was
reading.

"Andersen's Fairy Tales! My favorite book. I didn't know that boys
liked fairy stories."

David looked up quickly.

"I didn't know that lawyers did, either."

"Well, I do, David. They are my most delightful diversion."

"Girls don't like fairy stories," mused David. "Anyway, Janey doesn't.
I have to tell true stories to please her."

"Oh, you are a yarner, are you?"

"Yes," admitted David modestly. "Aunt M'ri thinks I will be a writer
when I grow up, but I think I should like to be a lawyer."

"David," asked the Judge abruptly, "did Miss Brumble tell you to give
me those roses?"

With a wild flashing of eyes the Dunne temper awoke, and the boy's
under jaw shot forward.

"No!" he answered fiercely. "She didn't know that I know--"

He paused in mid-channel of such deep waters.

"That you know what?" demanded the Judge in his cross-examining tone.

Dav