He asked himself the question, "Can I be in love? Have I been ensnared by the pretty fowler, enmeshed by the witcheries, the fascinations of this royal and unsophisticated beauty?" And all this done and accomplished without the movement of a finger upon her part. "You, Livy Bonham, almost in the sere leaf, a veteran of fifty-four years, striking the flag to a feebly manned battery of bewitching blue eyes before it has opened fire! Impossible! Impossible!" This exclamation was just loud enough for the Colonel to overhear, who enquired of the judge, "what it was that was impossible?" "Ah, I was thinking if I couldn't persuade the negroes to vacate my premises, that was all." "Perhaps I may find it necessary to consult you further, say to morrow. You know I am living at Burnbrae now, and the distance between us is very short, and I am sure we shall become very intimate." When the judge left the mansion the old man, accompanied by Alice sought rest in the parlor upon one of the mahogany sofas. "And now my daughter you will please take up your book again and read to me. What are you reading," he continued. "I was reading just then my dear father," the girl replied, "about the death of little Paul Dombey. I never weary of sentiments so heart pervading that I find running like golden threads through all of Dickens' works. You remember little Paul, father?" "Yes, oh yes," replied the old man, "Read it all over again." And Alice in her sweet, musical voice read so soothingly to her father that he sank to sleep. Closing the door softly behind her she went out into the verandah and sang quite plaintively one or more old songs, it might have been for the little birds that were piping their notes too in the tree boughs above her. Shall we slip away from Alice for a moment to invade the privacy of the judge? If the judge had knowledge of our unbidden presence, would he not say in the law latin that we had committed a trespass, "_quare clausum fregit_?" Oh, no, it would flatter him immensely to suspect that he was in love, and that with the beauty of Ingleside. He was stupidly ignorant after propounding the question a score of times to himself, his answer, dubiously made, was always, "Well, we shall see perhaps." CHAPTER XXIII. THE ABSENT-MINDED JUDGE.