s soon as affairs in the office quieted he remembered the
promise he had made Dunham.

"Now then, boy," he said one morning, "there isn't any reason why you
can't run along to-day and call on Miss Derwent."

"The bird has flown. I 'phoned to the house. She has gone to New York
to be a bridesmaid. Isn't coming back till time to leave for Maine."

"H'm. Too bad," returned the judge absent-mindedly.

"Thank you. Don't let it depress you."

"Eh?" looking up; Dunham was bending over the morning mail.

"Ever been in that Casco Bay region?" went on the judge.

"Yes, I yachted along the coast from Bar Harbor to Portland one
summer."

"It's a fine, unspoiled part of the world," remarked the lawyer with
unusual pensiveness, setting his hat farther back from his forehead and
looking into space. "When I get a glimpse of it as I did this week, I'm
tempted to hasten my retirement, to bid farewell to the squabbling
world, and turn fisherman,--begin to spread nets for mackerel instead
of my fellow men, and trap only such lobsters as will blush in a pot
instead of in court."

"Hear, hear," said Dunham. "You must have had good weather up
there,--or else," he added, "fallen in love with your niece."

Judge Trent still looked into space. "Yes," he went on slowly, "move my
books to the Mill Farm, leave Hannah the house, but not my address, and
begin rising at 4 A.M. for breakfast with Cap'n Lem. Then row out to my
pound, take in the fish, and send them to Boston. What retaining fee
could compare to the satisfaction of making money that way? Think of
the sights and sounds, the peace of mind!"

"Yes," said John, "but consider the obstacles."

"There wouldn't be any. I'd leave the good will of the office to you."

"I'm very grateful, but you forget. What would any well-regulated fish
say to afternoon dress at 4 A.M., and wouldn't the wind blow your hat
off?"

"John, you're a frivolous youth," responded the judge thoughtfully;
"but," in a warmer tone, "there are some things you do very well.
I"--still more warmly--"I have a little commission for you this
afternoon."

Dunham looked up suspiciously.

"It happens very nicely that you don't wish to go to Boston to-day. I
think it is due Miss Lacey that she should receive news of her niece's
welfare. She knows I've been up there and"--

"Yes, she does know it," interrupted John with emphasis. "She is
waiting with great eagerness to hear your report."

"Precisely," returned the