Miss Julia was clad in her best finery. She had on a bright new hat--which she had had over from Aurora's shop but recently. She had worn it at the great event of Don Lane's homecoming--worn it to make tribute to her "son." She wore it now in search of that son's father--and she had not the slightest idea in the world who that father in fact might be. Miss Julia's divination was only such stuff as dreams are made on. The father of Don, the unborn father of her unborn beloved--was not yet caught out of chaos, not yet resolved out of time--he was but a creature of her dreams. So Miss Julia walked haltingly through star dust. It whirled all about her as she crossed the dirty street. Around her spun all the nebulae of life yet to be. Somewhere on beyond and back of this was a soft, gray, vague light, the light of creation itself, of the dawn, of the birth of time. Perhaps some would have said it was the light shining down through the courthouse hall from the farther open door. Who would deny poor little Miss Julia her splendid dreams? For Miss Julia was very, very happy. She had found how the world was made and why it was made. And mighty few wise men ever have learned so much as that. She searched for the father of her first-born--a man tall and splendid and beautiful--a man strong and just and noble. Such only might be the father of her boy.... And she met him at the door of the county treasurer's office, his silk hat slightly rumpled on one side. "Oh!" she cried, and started back. She had only been thinking. But here he was. This was proof to Miss Julia's mind that God actually does engage in our daily lives. For here he was! Now she could bring father and son together; and that would correlate this world of question and doubt with that world of the star dust and the whirling nebulae. "Miss Julia!" The judge stopped, suddenly embarrassed. He flushed, which was all the better, for he had been ashen pale. "Oh, I'm so glad!" she exclaimed. "I was looking for you, all over. I was at your office, but did not find you. Of course you have heard?" "Heard? No, what was it?" "Why, the death of Johnnie Adamson--it was the sheriff, just now--Dan Cowles shot him, right in front of Aurora Lane's house. He must have been trying to break in or something. His father was there." "Why, great heavens!--what are you telling me? The sheriff shot him? Where is Cowles? I must see him." "He's here in the courthouse now, they say. But it's all over now. Where have you been? I was going over to Aurora's house early this morning, but Mr. Brooks came in. I must go over at once----" "Come this way, Miss Julia," he interrupted. He led her into the room he had just left. Racked as he was himself, he knew it would be too cruel an unkindness to tell Miss Julia now of what had befallen Aurora Lane the night before.