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 of her gray glove along its edge and examined it. "I guess you don't have ladies here much," she remarked dryly. "Oh, is it dusty?" he returned, pulling out his handkerchief with a sudden jerk and wiping the broken cane seat. "Here's another place;" she pointed an accusing gray finger. Dunham obediently dusted and she lowered her person gingerly upon the chair. "Now don't you put that dirty thing back in your pocket," she said, and the young man paused midway in the act, and finally laid the handkerchief on the gray mantelpiece. "You don't receive many ladies here, I imagine," repeated Miss Lacey, her nostrils dilating. "No, very few," returned Dunham, flushed. "What can I do for you, madam?" "Nothing, I guess, except dust the chair. I'm sure I'm much obliged to you for that and I'm sorry that you took your nice handkerchief. You ought to have some soft cheesecloth here." "I'll—mention it," said Dunham. "May I ask your business?" "No, you may not," returned Miss Martha equably. "Is Judge Trent in?" The young lawyer collected himself. "I represent Judge Trent," he said briefly. "Not to me you don't, young man," rejoined the visitor coolly. They regarded each other for a moment. "I wish to see Judge Trent," said Martha at last. "He is very busy; but if you will tell me the nature of"— "Busy? So am I," returned Miss Lacey brusquely, "and if you imagine that I am going to climb up to this office and then leave it without seeing the judge you're mistaken. You might give me something to read if he'll be long." "Do you think you would care for Blackstone?" asked the young lawyer. "There isn't much choice here."
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