Part 9 (2/2)

”He's remembering,” he thought joyfully.

He didn't hesitate even an instant. He stopped in front of the Judge and extended the flowers.

”Would you like these roses, Judge Thorne?” he asked courteously.

Then for the first time the Judge's attention was diverted from the flowers.

”Your face is familiar, my lad, but--”

”My name is David Dunne.”

”Yes, to be sure, but it must be four years or more since I last saw you. How's your 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-fas.h.i.+oned 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.

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