The Opened Shutters. Clara Louise Burnham

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      "No, never did." Judge Trent shook his head, and rocked his tilted chair gently. "I might count up the number of kitchen fires I've escaped building on cold winter mornings; the number of nocturnal rambles I've escaped taking with shrieking infants doubled up with the colic—and then there are my books! What would have become of my books! My fair one was the pizen-neat kind. She would have dusted them and driven me to drink!"

      Dunham smiled. "And yet those are scarcely facts with which you can reassure her," he remarked.

      Judge Trent caught the younger man's eye with a sympathetic twinkle.

      "Precisely; and the sad consequence is that she has never been entirely reassured. Her name's against her, poor girl—Martha. Careful about many things."

      "Then you had no successor?"

      "No, and affairs piled up. I had too much to attend to to renew the attack. I didn't have time to smooth down her ruffled feathers, so—the result is that we've each flocked alone. Just as well, just as well," continued the speaker, musingly. "What I was thinking of just now was how many different lives we seem to live in one; how our tastes change; and at best how few illusions are left to lawyers regarding marriage."

      "In other words, you're a confirmed old bachelor. What was it you asked me a minute ago—if I were in love?"

      "Yes, or if you had been."

      "Have been dozens of times—am not," returned Dunham, with the smile that his employer liked.

      "Just so, just so," the latter answered quickly. "We change. Read First Corinthians, seventh chapter, and if you take Paul's advice and don't pass the Rubicon, then you 'll be free to change as often as you please."

      Dunham looked up again. "Are you a Bible student, Judge Trent?"

      "Student of everything," returned the lawyer, with a short wave of his thin hand.

      "All books except woman's looks, eh?" answered Dunham, returning to his papers.

      "I said I had no successors," remarked the judge, regarding his gaiters musingly. "I'm not at all sure of that. Miss—Martha was a very attractive woman. My impression is that in any case she preferred to concentrate all her faculties upon watching to see that I didn't get into mischief."

      "That's faithfulness, I'm sure," returned Dunham. "The necessity for building those kitchen fires wouldn't exist now," he added suggestively.

      "Young man, no levity," returned the judge.

      There was silence for a few minutes, broken only by the turning of the crisp papers as Dunham continued his researches. At last the telephone bell rang and Dunham answered it. As he hung up the receiver Judge Trent spoke:—

      "Just call up the railway station, will you, and secure a chair for me in the nine o'clock train for Boston Wednesday morning?"

      John obeyed, and as he returned to his desk his employer continued:—

      "I may need your advice on Wednesday's business, Dunham."

      "My advice?" returned the young man, with interest. "Is it in the Evans case?"

      "No," dryly; "it isn't in the Evans case. It's a case of a girl." The judge scowled at his gaiters and pushed his hat askew. "Hang it, I don't know anything about girls."

      The young lawyer waited, his elbows on his desk.

      "Anything that I can do, of course," he said at last.

      "Have you any sisters?"

      "No."

      "Confound you," returned the other impatiently. "What do you know about it, then?"

      "Nearly all there is to know," responded Dunham modestly.

      "The conventionalities, the proprieties? Where and how girls may live and where and how they can't, for instance? Unattached girls whose relatives don't want them, for I'd like to bet her aunt won't receive her, and if I should go out of my way to urge it she'd probably turn on me and tell me to take my own medicine."

      "I'd do my best," returned John, when the exasperated tones had subsided.

      "What's the use of obeying St. Paul if your family won't?" went on the lawyer irritably. "What's the good of avoiding girls of your own, only to have somebody else's dumped on you?"

      "Be calm, Judge," said Dunham, smiling. "I felt a little stage fright when I thought it was the Evans case; but if it's only girls, I can attend to them with one hand tied behind me."

      Judge Trent regarded him wistfully. "John, do you know what you're saying? Isn't yours the presumption of ignorance?"

      "What? when I told you I had been in love a dozen times? To be sure, I never met those who've hit me hardest; but cheer up, Judge, I'll stand by you. What is it?"

      "I'm not quite ready to say what it is. I'll fence with Fate by myself awhile longer." As he spoke Calvin Trent took from his pocket a letter and began to read it over once more.

      "Very well," returned Dunham, picking up his papers. "I'm ready to act as your second."

      The following day Miss Martha Lacey locked the door of her cottage behind her and set off for the business district of the town. Her hair was carefully arranged and her bonnet was becoming. Her neighbors were wont to say with admiration that Martha Lacey, though she did live alone and was poor in kith, kin, and worldly fortune, never lost her ambition. She kept an eye to the styles as carefully as the rosiest belle in town.

      "There isn't any sense in a woman letting herself look queer," Miss Lacey often declared. "I don't mean to look queer."

      "It's real sensible of Martha to do as she does," said one neighbor to the new minister's wife. "She jilted the smartest man in town when she was young and she's kept on looking the part, as you might say, ever since. If she'd let herself run down, kind of seedy, everybody'd have said she was disappointed; but he hasn't ever married—it's Judge Trent, you know—and the way Martha holds her head up and wears gold eyeglasses sort of makes folks think he'd be glad to get her any time. It's real smart of Martha. The judge looks the seedy one. He never did carry much flesh, but now he's dried up till he ain't much bigger'n a grasshopper; but smart—Martha's smartness ain't to speak of beside his. They do say he's as well known in Boston as he is here."

      There was an extra determination in Miss Lacey's walk as she moved along this morning, the watery spring sunshine beaming on the well-brushed gray tailor gown she had bought ready-made at a sale a year ago. She was on her way to the law offices of Calvin Trent, a rare errand indeed and one which, if observed by acquaintances, she knew would even now "make talk;" but she did not falter, nor look to the right or left as she at last entered the dingy doorway and ascended the worn staircase.

      Scarcely pausing before the black-lettered door, she walked into the anteroom, and apparently her entrance sent a communication to the inner office; for while she stood for a moment looking dubiously at the uninviting chairs, a tall young man entered the room. Miss Lacey viewed him with curiosity and surprise.

      He greeted her courteously and brought forward one of the chairs. She wiped the finger СКАЧАТЬ