Mr. Allen took a musical departure. “Oh, as I strolled out one summer evening,” he sang, “for to meet Miss Nellie Green, all the birds and the flow’rs was singing sweetly, wherev-urr they was to be seen!” Thus, singing heartily, he passed between the swinging-doors and out to the street. Here he continued his euphonic mood, but moderated his expression of it to an inconspicuous humming. Dusk had fallen, a dusk as scented and as alive with spring as he had claimed it would be; and a fair shaft of the rising moon already struck upon the white cupola of the courthouse. * * * * * . . . Mary Ricketts was leaning upon the front gate of the Ricketts place when he came there. “Good evening, Miss Mary,” he said. “Are the Judge and your mother at home?” “They’re right there on the front porch, Mr. Allen,” she said cordially. “Won’t you come in?” “In a minute,” he responded. “It does me good to hear you answer when I ask for your parents, Miss Mary.” “How is that?” “Why,” he said, “you always sound so friendly when I ask for _them_!” She laughed, and explained her laughter by saying, “It’s funny you don’t always ask for them!” “Just so,” he agreed. “I’ve been thinking about that. Are you all going up to the Square pretty soon, to hear the concert?” “Father and mother are, I think,” she said. “I’m not.” “Just ‘waiting at the gate’?” “Not _for_ any one!” Lucius took off his hat and fanned himself, a conciliatory gesture. “I tell you I feel mighty sorry for one young man in this town to-night,” he said. “Who’s that, Mr. Allen?” “Well——” he hesitated. “I don’t know if I ought to tell _you_ about it.” “Why not me?” she asked, not curiously. “Well—it’s that young Joe Perley.” Miss Ricketts was mildly amused; Lucius’s tone was serious, and if she had any interest whatever in Mr. Perley it was of a quality most casual and remote. “Why should you either tell me or not tell me anything about him?” she asked. “You know he’s such a good-looking young fellow,” said Lucius. “And he’s going to make a fine lawyer, too; I’ve had him with me in a couple of cases, and I’ve an idea he might have something like a real career, if——” He paused. “Yes?” she said idly. “If what? And why is it you feel so sorry for him, and why did you hesitate to tell _me_? What’s it all about, Mr. Allen?” “I suppose I’d better explain, now I’ve gone this far,” he said, a little embarrassed. “I was talking with Joe to-day, and—well, the fact is we got to talking about you.” “You did?” Her tone betokened an indifference unmistakably genuine. “Well?” Lucius laughed with increased embarrassment. “Well—the fact is we talked about you a long while.” “Indeed?” she said coldly, but there was a slight interest now perceptible under the coldness; for Miss Mary Ricketts was not unhuman. “Was there a verdict?”