He looked at Dunham, who sedulously did not look at him. The young man was thinking of a _mignonne_ face as he had last seen it with quivering lips, trying to smile in response to his encouraging parting words. At last the judge spoke:-- "Well, Thinkright took her up there." "Ah?" responded Dunham. Whatever his curiosity, he determined that his conversation on this embarrassing subject should never exceed monosyllables. "Sickly looking, is she?" pursued the lawyer after a pause. "Yes," replied John; then memory reminding him that this was not strictly the case, he availed himself of the remainder of his vocabulary: "and no," he added. "I should like to know what Thinkright means by her being starved," said Judge Trent irritably. Silence from Dunham, frowning at his papers. "I believe I'll send you up there," began the lawyer after a minute. "I believe you won't," retorted his subordinate with surprising promptness. The older man stared. "I should like to know how the girl is carrying sail; how she eats, whether she seems contented. An eyewitness, now"-- "Not me," said John briefly. "Lost your conceit, eh?" asked the judge, grinning. "No more family parties for me," returned Dunham doggedly. "Oh, come now, be good-natured and obliging." "Never again while I live," was the response. "I've never praised you half enough for your work on that job," said the judge ingratiatingly. "The more I think of it the more I wonder where we'd have brought up in the affair if it hadn't been for you." "You might as well flatter the Sphinx," remarked John impersonally. Judge Trent laughed. "Afraid of a little girl, eh?" Dunham shrugged his shoulders. "I shouldn't be the first man. Why don't you send Miss Lacey?" "H'm," grunted the judge thoughtfully. John smiled. "Provide her with a full suit of chain-armor and I fancy she'd accept the detail." "I'm going in town to-morrow," soliloquized the judge aloud. "I might go and ask Edna Derwent." "Who?" demanded Dunham, looking up with sudden alertness. "Edna Derwent." "Of Commonwealth Avenue?" "Yes. What's the matter?" "Nothing. I am only surprised that your calling list includes her." "Well, now, why should you be?" "No reason, of course," returned John, smiling, "except that she's a girl; and girls,--I thought they were all under the ban. You'll have to take your hat off, you know." "H'm," grunted the judge again. "I'll tell you what," suggested John, "send me there. I'll go." "Do you know her?" "Used to--well. I haven't seen her for years. It's her family I referred to when I spoke of friends of mine going up into Casco Bay." "Yes. Hawk Island." "That's the place. I was invited there once, but couldn't accept." "Very nice girl, Edna," remarked the judge. Dunham emitted a noiseless whistle. "She must be a wonder," he replied. "I didn't know there were any nice girls." "You think you're smart, don't you?" said the judge. "I shall if I get an errand to Miss Derwent to-morrow."