The Judge was sitting in his easy-chair beside the table. A book was open on his knees, a long-stemmed pipe was on the chair arm, and the gray and grizzled old dog lay, with head on paws, at his feet. Above him a huge wreath of thin smoke hung in the air. Had I been a painter, I should have wished to lay that picture upon canvas, because seldom could one see expressed so completely the evening of an honest day and of an honorable life, the tranquillity of home, the comfort of meditation, the affection for faithful dog, old volume, and seasoned pipe. As he looked up at me, however, it suddenly seemed to me that he had grown old; behind his smile of warm greeting I fancied I could observe a haunted look, the ghostly flickering forth of some unwelcome thought held in the subconsciousness. "Why, Estabrook!" he cried, when he had seen me. "Bless my soul, I didn't know you would be so prompt. I have understood that young men approached these interviews with reluctance." "You forget, sir," I answered, knowing that he would have a jest at my expense, "that we made the arrangement in advance." "We did! We did! That's a fact. But I had no idea that you would be successful, at least so soon, and if I may say it--so--so--precipitously." "I plead the spirit of the age," said I. "It's a spirit common to all ages, I take it," he answered, with a quirk of his judicial mouth. "Do I understand that you and my daughter have first become engaged and now wish my permission to see enough of each other to become acquainted?" Perhaps he hit a centre ring with this thrust, for I could only stammer forth an awkward statement about being very sure of my feelings. "They all are sure!" he said, with a good-natured cynicism. Then he smiled again and pointed toward the ceiling with a long forefinger. "Perhaps you may be pleased to know that she is very sure," he whispered. I sat down. "Yes," said he solemnly. "You are to be envied. I believe her love--as I have seen it grow in these weeks--is the sweetest thing that ever flowed from a human soul." "You knew that she at first sent me away in the name of her duty to you?" said I. He looked up at me, shut his book, patted the dog, and laid the pipe on the table. "No," said he, with a break in his voice. "But I shall not quickly forget that you have been fair enough to her and to me to tell me that." "May I have her?" I asked. "Yes," said he. "Of course you may." I hesitated a moment. Then I laughed. "She told me when you had said that to go to her." I rose. "Wait," said he. "That is not all. Before God, I wish it were." I had not been watching his expression, but now, when I looked up at him, I saw that the gray look which I had fancied I had seen under his smile had now come out upon his face.