And she started from the kitchen straight for her father’s office, the old dog waddling at her heels. Five minutes before that Squire Phin had pushed his elbows into the papers on the big table, leaned forward with clasped fingers, and said: “We’ve got now, Judge, where we can see the way clear. I have turned into money for you everything except this house and contents. The mortgage on it has been paid.” The Judge began a stammering inquiry, but the lawyer checked him. “I’ve got to tell you the truth about it, Judge. I advanced the money myself to do it. About three thousand dollars are due you from men who will pay some time but can’t now without being hard put to it to raise the money. I’ll take those accounts and advance the cash. We have paid every cent you owe and squared with every depositor.” The lawyer stared at the old man in silence for a time. “I’ll be frank and say that in order to bring about this settlement I have put in every cent of money I have saved, all that Hiram paid me, and have used certain fees I have received lately from several large cases. But I am the only creditor you have. I want you to sign these notes, running to me, for that will be business. But I want to say to you, Judge, that I shall not press for payment, nor shall I say one word to any living soul that you owe me a cent or are not solvent. There is a residue banked and subject to your order sufficient for you to continue your usual way of living. Wait a moment until I have finished! I have asked you to lie to Sylvena, to contradict some truths that I blurted to her in my folly. It was a big thing to ask of a father, but you owe me for lying publicly on your behalf. I fear that both of us are sad liars! If you by word or look or action ever let your daughter know that you have lost your fortune I will withdraw my promise to you and put you to the wall. And that threat is the truth, so help me God!” The old Judge licked his trembling lips and took the notes that the Squire handed him for signature. “You needn’t feel under any obligation to me, Judge Willard,” went on the lawyer. “I’ll square myself somehow, sometime. We’ll consider it straight business.” “But I know it isn’t straight business,” replied the Judge brokenly. “I know that you have done for me what no other man of my whole acquaintance would have done. I may guess at part of your reason for it, Phineas. But that reason doesn’t absolve me from the obligation I am under to you. I’m too broken now to plan or promise. I am an old man--too old to start anew. But I don’t believe that God will take me out of this world until I have in some way shown you that I appreciate all you have done for me and can prove to you that I am sorry for the past. I mean that with all the sincerity of an old man that will be judged Above for his deeds on earth sooner than you, Phineas!”