“None, none, and yet I guess I thought he’d come to see me, or write, or something. Oliver said he would, and the days are so dreary without him.” The Judge glanced at the hidden drawer, feeling strongly tempted to give her the letters it contained, but his temper rose up in time to prevent it, and muttering to himself: “Hanged if I do,” he proceeded to tell her how by and by the days would not be so dreary, for she would forget Lawrence and find some one else to love, and then he added, suddenly brightening up, “there’ll be some fun in seeing me plague Bobum. The mortgages are due to-day, and the dog has written asking for more time, saying he’s a ruined man unless I give it to him. Let him be ruined then. I’d like to see him taken down a peg or two. Maybe then he’ll think you good enough for his boy. There, darling, sit on the lounge, while I hunt up the papers. I’m going up this very day to see my lawyer,” and he pushed her gently from him. Mildred knew comparatively nothing of business, but she understood that Judge Howell had it in his power to ruin Mr. Thornton or not just as he pleased, and though she had no cause for liking the latter, he was Lawrence’s father, and she resolved to do what she could in his behalf. Returning to the Judge she seated herself upon his knee and asked him to tell her exactly how matters stood between himself and Mr. Thornton. He complied with her request, and when he had finished, she said: “If you choose, then, you can give him more time and so save him from a failure. Is that it?” “Yes, yes, that’s it,” returned the Judge, a little petulantly. “But I ain’t a mind to. I’ll humble him, the wretch!” Mildred never called Judge Howell father except on special occasions, although he had often wished her so to do, but she called him “father” now, and asked if “he loved her very much.” “Yes, love you a heap more than you deserve, but ’tain’t no use to beg off for Bob Thornton, for I shall foreclose,—hanged if I don’t.” “No, no. You mustn’t,” and Mildred’s arms closed tightly around his neck. “Listen to me, father. Give him more time, for Milly’s sake. My heart is almost broken now, and it will kill me quite to have him ruined, for Lawrence, you know, would suffer too. Lawrence would suffer most. Won’t you write to him that he can have all the time he wants? You don’t need the money, and you’ll feel so much better, for the Bible says they shall be blessed who forgive their enemies. Won’t you forgive Mr. Thornton?” She kissed his forehead and kissed his lips,—she caressed his rough, bearded cheek, while all the while her arms pressed tighter around his neck, until at last he gasped: “Heavens and earth, Gipsy, you are choking me to death.” Then she released him, but continued her gentle pleading until the Judge was fairly softened, and he answered: