"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-fashioned 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. "Andersen's Fairy Tales! My favorite book. I didn't know that boys liked fairy stories." David looked up quickly. "I didn't know that lawyers did, either." "Well, I do, David. They are my most delightful diversion." "Girls don't like fairy stories," mused David. "Anyway, Janey doesn't. I have to tell true stories to please her." "Oh, you are a yarner, are you?" "Yes," admitted David modestly. "Aunt M'ri thinks I will be a writer when I grow up, but I think I should like to be a lawyer." "David," asked the Judge abruptly, "did Miss Brumble tell you to give me those roses?" With a wild flashing of eyes the Dunne temper awoke, and the boy's under jaw shot forward. "No!" he answered fiercely. "She didn't know that I know--" He paused in mid-channel of such deep waters. "That you know what?" demanded the Judge in his cross-examining tone. David was doubtful of the consequences of his temerity, but he stood his ground. "I can't tell you what, because I promised not to. Some one was just thinking out loud, and I overheard." There was silence for a moment. "David, I remember your father telling me, years ago, that he had a little son with a big imagination which his mother fed by telling stories every night at bedtime." "Will you tell me," asked David earnestly, "about my father? What was it he did? Uncle Barnabas told me something about his trouble last Saturday." "How did he come to mention your father to you?" David reddened.