The judge sank back in his chair and looked at her in amazement. "What has happened?" She drew the empty chair up and sat down in it. She leaned forward and took one of his hands, and pressed it between both of her own. She waited for the judge to speak. "I hardly know," he began. "I never heard Lavinia break out so." "You must remember how excited and overwrought she is," Mrs. Blair exclaimed. "You must make allowances." "I didn't know the girl had such spirit," he continued. Mrs. Blair smiled rather wanly, and stroked her husband's hand. It was very cold and moist, and it trembled. "I had no idea it was so serious," he went on, as if summing up the catalogue of his surprises. "Tell me how it all came about," said Mrs. Blair. "Marley was here, first," the judge began. He had to pause, for he seemed to find it difficult to catch his breath. "It was a great surprise to me; it was very painful." The judge withdrew his hand and wiped his brow. Then he gazed again as he had done before, across the street. Mrs. Blair, though eying him closely and with concern, waited patiently. "I didn't wish to wound him," the judge resumed, speaking as much to himself as to her. "I hope I said nothing harsh; he really was quite manly about it." He paused again. "I presume I may have seemed cold, unfeeling, unsympathetic," he went on; and then as if he needed to reassure and justify himself, he added, "but of course it was impossible, utterly impossible." After another pause, he drew a deep breath, and as if he had already outlined his whole interview with Marley, continued: "And then Lavinia appeared; she must have heard it all, standing there in the hall." The judge leaned heavily against the back of his big chair; his face was drawn, his wrinkles were deeper than they had been, and he wore an aspect of weariness and pain. His form, too, seemed to have shrunk, and he sat there in an almost helpless mass, limp and inert. "I am only afraid, dear," Mrs. Blair said quietly, "that we have taken this thing too seriously." "Possibly," he said. "But it is serious, very serious. I don't know what is to be done." "We must have patience," Mrs. Blair counseled. "It will require all our delicacy and tact, now." "Perhaps you had better go in to her," the judge said presently. "Poor little girl; she is passing through the deep waters. And I tried to act only for her interest and happiness." Mrs. Blair arose. "She will see that, dear, in time." "I hope so," said the judge. Mrs. Blair went up to Lavinia's room, and listened for a moment at the closed door. She heard a voice, low and indistinct, but she knew it for the voice of Connie, and she could tell from its tone that the little girl was trying in her way to comfort and console her sister. So she stepped away, silently, almost stealthily, going on tiptoe.