"Money isn't everything," said Anne Oglesby, with the assurance of those who have all the money that they need. "I suppose I have plenty of money if my guardian will let me have it." "Even if your guardian allowed it," said Aurora Lane proudly, "Don would not. He would not let you help him, nor would I, though we are paupers--worse than that. Did you know that, Anne?" "I am finding out these things one by one," was the girl's reply. "But they have come after my decision." She spoke with her own quaint primness and certainty of her mind. "There's just one man could help us," said Aurora Lane, hesitating, and coloring a trifle. "I mean Mr. Brooks, Horace Brooks. He's a good lawyer. Some say he is the equal of Judge Henderson--I don't know. You heard what Judge Henderson said of him. It's fear of Horace Brooks, as much as his own conscience, that's influencing Judge Henderson." "And why couldn't we go to Horace Brooks then?" demanded Anne Oglesby. "What is the objection--why can't you go to him?" "I'd rather not tell you," said Aurora Lane, and in spite of herself felt the color rise yet more to her face. Anne Oglesby sat looking at her for some time in silence. "There are complications sometimes, are there not?" said she. So silence fell between them. The drums had passed by now. The sun had almost sunk to the edge of the last row of dust-crowned maples. The farmers here and there below were unhitching the sunburned horses at the courthouse rail. "I see," said Anne at length. "You love him--or did--Don's father. Or do you still pity him!" "Who are you?" said Aurora Lane, looking at her steadfastly. "You, so young! You talk of pity. Where have you learned so much--so soon? When you grow older, perhaps you may find it hard _not_ to forgive. Everything's so little after all, and it's all so soon over." Unsmilingly Anne Oglesby held her peace. "Why don't you want to ask Mr. Brooks to act as our attorney?" she asked. "And who is he--I don't know him, you see." Aurora did not answer the first part of her question. "I'll tell you where Mr. Brooks' office is," said she--"you see that little stair just across the courthouse yard? Sometimes he spends Sunday afternoon in his office. It's--well--it's hard for me to go over there and ask him." "Has he--has he--ever been much to you?" asked Anne Oglesby, directly. "In a way, yes," said Aurora Lane, quite truthfully, but flushing red. "Outside of my own son, he is the only man that's ever raised voice or hand in my defense here in this town. Beyond that--don't ask me." Anne Oglesby did not ask her beyond that. But when she spoke, there was decision in her tones. "It is no doubt your duty to go to Mr. Brooks at once. Will he too refuse us?" Aurora Lane's face remained flushed in spite of herself. "I don't think he will refuse," said she. "But only Don's danger would ever induce me to ask him for any help. I'll ask him--for Don and you."