The Opened Shutters Part 60

"Oh, of course you'll always swear to that. Let it happen thirty years hence to your son, and you'll call things by their right names."

Dunham heard the affection for himself in the strained voice, and he turned slowly around and smiled up into his partisan's lean, excited face, with eyes that again gave the judge an unaccustomed sensation.

"You've been a dunce, Boy. Why didn't you get busy at the island last summer, after all your talk about adoration? You could have got her. I don't believe you've half tried."

John still smiled as he replied quietly, "No. I haven't half tried."

The judge scowled his amazement. "Why not, then?" he demanded, when he could speak.

Dunham hesitated a moment before he answered, "Because I saw that neither of us wished it."

Judge Trent glared at him during a short silence. "What are you mooning about, then?" he burst forth at last. "What are you tearing up deeds for? Why aren't you worth your salt?"

Dunham colored under the vigorous arraignment.

"Oh, you're a mind-reader all right, Judge Trent. You didn't guess wrong."

"You're in love?" snarled the lawyer angrily.

John nodded.

"Who is it?" explosively.

"Don't you think I'd better wait and see if I can get her?"

"_Tss!_" hissed the judge in unspeakable scorn. He went back to his chair and sat down, still holding the other's eyes with an angry stare.

"You know you haven't any doubt that you'll get her."

"Yes, I have. Many. There was a time--but that's pa.s.sed. She is distressingly interested in other things."

"Any money?" asked the judge.

"No."

"Have you, then?"

Dunham nodded. He saw a ripple of surprise pa.s.s over the sharp face opposite.

"What sort of connections has she?"

John smiled. "Well, some of them think very well of themselves."

"H'm. That might be. Are they the sort that could be of any use to you?"

"Why, yes. The most c.o.c.ksure of them all can do a lot for me if he likes."

Judge Trent shook his head. "Go slow, Boy. It's easier to get into that noose than out of it."

"Why, you complained that I went too slow in the case of Edna."

"Yes, yes, indeed. There you would have had the best possible chances."

The judge sighed. "You've missed your life-opportunity; now be cautious."

"You haven't seen Sylvia since she did up her hair, have you?"

The digression was so sharp and unexpected, Judge Trent winked, and came slowly back from his dejection.

"Hair?" he repeated, vaguely. "I shouldn't know whether she did up her hair or not. It's short, still, isn't it? How could she?"

"She puts a tight elastic, or ribbon, or something, around it, right at the crown. It makes a lot of little waves and curls that tumble around--well, just right."

Judge Trent blinked slowly toward the rather tense face.

"She's going up to the farm next week," he said.

"I know she is," replied Dunham. "So am I. She doesn't know it. I'm going to surprise her. I haven't asked if you could spare me. You'll have to."

Judge Trent's mouth fell slightly open. Presently he swung his chair around to his desk and began mechanically to examine and separate some papers which he took from a rubber band. Certain ones he tore and threw them into the wastebasket, returned others to a pigeonhole, and all in a businesslike rush, as if to make up for the time he had been wasting.

At last a strange look overspread his face. The blood rushed to it.

Again he took off a rubber band and ran his eyes over the various papers. Then he scowled, and, s.n.a.t.c.hing up the wastebasket, fished out the top sc.r.a.ps. He regarded them aghast. Presently a sound rang through that office which had never resounded in Dunham's time. Judge Trent laughed loud and long.

"Boy, I'll have to confess it," he said, as John looked up in questioning amazement. "I've torn up that new deed we made out." He laughed again, and Dunham joined him in a spontaneous burst.

"Who are _you_ in love with, Judge Trent?" he asked.

"You, I guess," returned the lawyer, bluntly. He rose and came again to the younger man's side, and the excitement in his face showed now as gravity.

"John," he said, "is it Sylvia?"

Dunham rose. "Yes, it's Sylvia," he answered.

Their hands met in a strenuous clasp.

"You young fool," said the judge after a minute, "is that where you were philandering when you ought to have been courting Edna?"

"You've guessed right again."

The judge's thin hand clung to the young, firm one, and he tried in vain to hold his lips steady.

"But Sylvia has started on a career. I'm told she paints excellent miniatures."

"I want her to paint mine the rest of her life," said Dunham. "I don't know what she'll say; but--haven't I your blessing, Judge?"

The lawyer shook the hand he clasped.

"You're a great fool, John," he said tenderly. "You don't know enough to"--he paused, and, dropping John's hand, hurried from the office, slamming the door behind him.