"William, I beg your pardon," the Judge replied, "but you said the tenth, raising my hopes, for you well know my predilection for that day. In many ways a man may be pardoned for recklessness, but not in the matter of a date. The exact time of an occurrence is almost as important as the occurrence itself. History would lose much of its value if the dates—" "John, when you get into one of your tantrums you are enough to make a snow man melt himself with an oath. You’d make a dog swear." "Not before me when I was on the bench. But your story. Ab Tollivar came to you and—" "I’ll not tell it." He got up and glared at the Judge. "Oughtn’t I to know what day it was on?" "Yes, and I believe you do. Sit down." "I’ll do nothing of the sort, sir. I’ll not sit here to be insulted by you or anybody else." He moved off toward the door, but before going out, halted, turned, and said: "Mr. Bradley, I’ll tell you the story some other time. But John shall never hear it." He gave his head a jerk, intended for a bow of indignation, and strode out. "He’s the dearest old fellow in the world," said the Judge, "and I couldn’t get along without him." "Isn’t he somewhat younger than yourself?" "Yes, two years. Come in." Mrs. Elbridge entered the dingy room, brightening it with her presence. "Won’t you please come into the drawing room?" she said. "It is so dreary in here. Judge, why do you bring visitors to this room? After the Judge retired from the bench, Mr. Bradley, he decided to move the main branch of his law office out here, and I didn’t think that he would make it his home, but he has; and, worse than that, he makes it a home for all his clients. They can stroll in from the street at any time." "A sort of old shoe that fits everybody," said the Judge. "The only way to live is to be comfortable, and the only place in which to find comfort is in a room where nothing can be spoiled." "But won’t you phase come into the drawing room?" "Yes, my dear, as soon as I am done smoking." "But you may smoke in there. Do come, please. The girls want to see Mr. Bradley. Won’t you make him come?" she asked, appealing to the preacher. "Yes, very shortly," replied Bradley. "If he doesn’t drop his cigar pretty soon we’ll have him driven out with Mr. William’s pipe." "The threat is surely dark enough," she rejoined. "Don’t be long, Judge," she added, turning to go. "Agnes declares that you shall not drag Mr. Bradley into your den and keep him shut out from civilized life." Agnes was a Miss Temple, a visitor, bright and full of mischief. And during all the talk the preacher’s mind had been dwelling upon her, the mischief in her eyes and the dazzle of her smile. "Miss Temple is an exceedingly charming woman," he said, when Mrs. Elbridge had quitted the room. "She and Miss Bodney were schoolmates, I believe." "Yes, and although much separated, have not broken the gauze bonds of school fellowship." "Gauze bonds, Judge?"