The culmination came one fine day in the fall, and it was so sudden and so peculiar that it took Hillsborough completely by surprise, and gave the people food for gossip for a long time afterwards. The season was hesitating as to whether summer should return or winter should be introduced. There was a hint of winter in the crisp morning breezes, but the world seemed to float summerwards in the glimmering haze that wrapped the hills in the afternoons. On one of these fine mornings Judge Bascom rose and dressed himself. His daughter heard him humming a tune as he walked about the room, and she observed also, with inward satisfaction, that his movements were brisker than usual. Listening a little attentively, she heard him talking to himself, and presently she heard him laugh. This was such an unusual occurrence that she was moved to knock at his door. He responded with a cheery “Come in!” Mildred found him shaved and dressed, and she saw that there was a great change in his appearance. His cheeks, usually so wan and white, were flushed a little and his eyes were bright. He smiled as Mildred entered, and exclaimed in a tone that she had not heard for years:— “Good-morning, my daughter! And how do you find yourself this morning?” It was the old manner she used to admire so when she was a slip of a girl—a manner that was a charming combination of dignity and affection. “Why, father!” she exclaimed, “you must be feeling better. You have positively grown younger in a night.” The Judge laughed until his eyes sparkled. “Yes, my dear, I am feeling very well indeed. I never felt better. I am happy, quite happy. Everything has been made clear to me. I am going to-day to transact some business that has been troubling me a long time. I shall arrange it all to-day—yes, to-day.” The change that had come over her father was such a relief to Mildred that she asked him no questions. Now, as always, she trusted to his judgment and his experience. Jesse, however, was more critical. He watched the Judge furtively and shook his head. “Mistiss,” he said to Mildred when he found an opportunity, “did you shave master?” “Why, what a ridiculous question!” she exclaimed. “How could I shave him? It makes me shiver merely to touch the razors.” “Well, Mistiss,” Jesse insisted, “ef I ain’t shave him, en you ain’t shave him, den who de name er goodness is done gone en done it?” “He shaved himself, of course,” Mildred said. “He is very much better this morning. I noticed it the moment I saw him. I should think you could see it yourself.” “I seed somepin’ nuther wuz de matter,” said Jesse. “Somepin’ ’bleege’ ter be de matter when I put him ter bed las’ night des like he wuz a baby, ma’m, en now yer he is gwine roun’ des ez spry ez de nex’ one. Yessum, somepin’ ’bleege’ ter be de matter. Yistiddy his han’s wuz shakin’ same like he got de polzy, ma’m, en now yer he is shavin’ hisse’f; dat what rack my min’.”