XVII. THE ROSY CLOUD 170 XVIII. HAWK ISLAND 180 XIX. A NOR'EASTER 189 XX. THE POOL 200 XXI. A SWIMMING LESSON 213 XXII. BLUEBERRYING 222 XXIII. A PHILTRE 228 XXIV. SYLVIA'S MYSTERY 239 XXV. THE LITTLE RIFT 248 XXVI. REVELATION 257 XXVII. MISUNDERSTANDING 265 XXVIII. THE POTION 277 XXIX. THE WHITE BAG 288 XXX. THE LIGHT BREAKS 297 XXXI. RECONCILIATION 309 XXXII. A SOFTENED BLOW 321 XXXIII. "LOVE ALONE WILL STAY " 330 THE OPENED SHUTTERS CHAPTER I JUDGE TRENT Judge Trent's chair was tipped back at a comfortable angle for the accommodation of his gaitered feet, which rested against the steam radiator in his private office. There had been a second desk introduced into this sanctum within the last month, and the attitude of the young man seated at it indicated but a brief suspension of business as he looked up to greet his employer. The judge had just come in out of the cold and wet, and did not remove his silk hat as he seated himself to dry his shoes. He appeared always reluctant to remove that hat. Spotlessly clean as were always the habiliments that clothed his attenuated form, no one could remember having seen the judge's hat smoothly brushed; and although in the course of thirty years it is unlikely that he never became possessed of a new one, even the closest observer, and that was Martha Lacey, could not be certain of the transition period, probably owing to the lingering attachment with which the judge returned spasmodically to the headgear which had accommodated itself to his bumps, and which he was heroically endeavoring to discard. This very morning Miss Lacey in passing her old friend on the street had been annoyed by the unusually rough condition of the hat he lifted. A few steps further on she happened to encounter the judge's housekeeper, her market basket on her arm. Old Hannah's wrinkled countenance did not grow less grim as Miss Lacey greeted her, but that lady, nothing daunted, stopped to speak, her countenance alert and her bright gaze shining through her eyeglasses. "I just met Judge Trent, Hannah. Dear me, can't you brush that hat of his a little? It looks for all the world like a black cat that has just caught sight of a mastiff." "I guess the judge knows how he wants his own hat," returned Hannah, her mouth working disapprovingly.