Mrs. Elbridge returned and stood in the door. "Here comes William," she said. The Judge arose. William came in puffing. "We were looking for you," said Mrs. Elbridge. "Well, now," replied the old fellow, "you don’t have to look long for me, I’ll tell you that. I made the driver whip his horses all the way there and back." "And are you sure that your message caught the train?" said the Judge. "Oh, I always fetch ’em whenever I go after ’em." "Are you sure you sent it all right?" the Judge asked. "John, I thought you’d get well. But, sir, you exhibit the most alarming sign of sickness I have ever seen in you. Sure I sent it all right! What other way do I ever do a thing? Of course I sent it all right. The train wasn’t far out, and there’s one back every few minutes." "It seems that he has been gone a year instead of two hours," said the Judge. Florence smiled at him. "And are we to be married in secret?" she asked, speaking low. "My dear, that shall be as you please. I have only one wish—that it shall be one of the happiest days of my life, and I believe that it will be." "What day of the month is this?" William asked. "The fifth," the Judge answered. "Are you sure?" "I am sure it is not the tenth of June, sixty-three," said the Judge, and was in deep regret at his levity at such a time, when his wife spoke up, "Judge, please don’t get him started." "Started!" William snorted. "Now—now, that’s good. A man races all the way to the station and back, and they talk about getting him started." Suddenly he thrust his hands into his pockets and stood staring at the wall. "Well, if that don’t beat anything I ever saw." "What is the trouble?" the Judge asked. "Why, I dated that telegram the fourth." "You did!" Mrs. Elbridge cried. The Judge looked hard at his brother. "It won’t make any difference," said Florence. "He will know that it was a mistake." "He will undoubtedly know who sent it," the Judge added. "I wonder why Mr. Bradley and Agnes stay in that dingy place," said Mrs. Elbridge, always anxious to change the talk from William’s dates. "The place may be dingy," replied the Judge, "but there are no cobwebs hanging from the rafters in the abode of love." "Judge!" she said, giving him a smiling frown. "To some eyes," remarked Florence, half musingly, "there may be cobwebs hanging from the rafters in love’s abode, but to love they are strands of gold." "Let us go out and watch for his coming," said Mrs. Elbridge, taking Florence by the arm. They went out, leaving William staring at the Judge. "By the way, what’s this I happened to hear about brother Henry being dead? I didn’t know he was dead till he wasn’t." "You didn’t?" "I mean I heard the news of his death and the contradiction about the same time. Why did you keep it from me?" "Oh, I knew there wasn’t any truth in the report, and there wasn’t anything to be gained by telling you."