When Judge Kirtley came she talked it over with a calm cheerfulness that amazed him,--listening to his report of what had been done and putting in now and then a question which showed her mind to be clear and alert. While she was helpless Judge Kirtley had not been idle. His next move, he told her, would be to attack the validity of the law upon which the will rested. Since the will itself had been sustained by the Probate Court, and that decision had been practically reaffirmed by the court which had just awarded the custody of the child to the guardian, and they had no new evidence to offer, this seemed to him their best show. In all his practice he had never known a case of this kind before, and he proposed now to test the law. He had associated with himself a firm of successful attorneys in middle life who were working upon the case with much interest. "We may not see the end of this for a long time, my child, but when we do I expect to have a decision in your favor." "It will be." She said it with such implicit confidence that he felt impelled to say, remembering her former hopefulness and its disastrous overthrow, "Still, it is always wise to look the possibility of defeat in the face." "No," she said, "I will not look the possibility of defeat in the face. Some day I will get him." It seemed almost as if her faith were inspired. The court had provided that she should see the child at stated intervals, he told her. Philip was now at Mr. De Jarnette's country home, and was, he was informed, well and happy. Her lips tightened. "I will go to him to-day," she said. "Margaret, if this thing could be settled out of court it would save you a great deal of anxiety and tedious waiting. It is just possible that having been successful, Mr. De Jarnette might be in a compromising frame of mind. Sometimes it works that way. Could you make up your mind to see him yourself?" "I can make up my mind to do anything that is necessary," she said. It seemed to the old Judge that no heart of flesh and blood could withstand her as she looked that day. * * * * * Sitting by the window of his office the next afternoon Mr. De Jarnette saw his sister-in-law's carriage drive slowly down the street and stop before the Conococheague building. Mr. Harcourt was beside her. He was much at the Massachusetts Avenue house these days, and Mrs. Pennybacker encouraged it. "Your nonsense will do her good just now," she told him. "She needs a breeze from the outside world that will freshen the air without blowing directly upon her." After this he fell into the habit of dropping in at odd times--after office hours, and occasionally for Sunday night supper. Mr. De Jarnette had noticed on the day of the trial when Margaret lay in a faint that he came directly to her as though his place were at her side. Looking at them now as they sat there together and thinking of all that had occurred in this room he felt somehow bereft anew.