"Ah, that was when I was still struggling to get my toes into a crack in the wall and climb up. I didn't have time for you then. And you're very ungrateful to bring it up against me, for all I was doing was to wear my nose clear off on the grindstone so's to be able to buy you such pretty trash as this." He stroked the girl's shimmering draperies, not thinking of what he was saying, smiling at her, delighted with her beauty, with her nearness to him, with this brief snatch of intimate talk. "Ungrateful--yourself! What am I doing but wearing my nose off on the grindstone--Dr. Melton threatens nervous prostration every day--so's to show off your pretty trash to the best advantage. _I_ haven't any time to bother with _you_ now!" she mocked him laughingly, her hands on his shoulders. "Well, that sounds like a bargain," he admitted, leaning back in his chair; "I suppose I've got to be satisfied if you are. _Are_ you satisfied?" he asked with a sudden seriousness. "How do you like Paul, now you know him better?" Lydia flushed, and looked away in a tremulous confusion. "Why, when I'm with him I can't think of another thing in the world," she confessed in a low, ardent tone. "Ah, well, then that's all right," said the Judge comfortably. There was a pause, during which Lydia looked at the fire dreamily, and he looked at Lydia. The girl's face grew more and more absent and brooding. The door-bell rang. "There he is, I suppose," said her father. "But isn't it a pity we couldn't make connections?" she asked musingly. "Maybe I'd have liked you better with your nose on, better even than pretty trash." "Eh?" said Judge Emery. His blankness was so acute that he slipped for an instant back into a rusticity he had long ago left behind him. "What say, Lydia?" he asked. "Yes, yes, Paul; I didn't hear you come in," called the girl, jumping up and beginning to put on her wraps. The young man darted into the room to help her, saying over his shoulder: "Much obliged to you, Judge, for your good word to Egdon, March and Company. I got the contract for the equipment of their new factory to-day." The Judge screwed himself round in his chair till he could see Paul bending at Lydia's feet, putting on her high overshoes. "That's quite a contract, isn't it?" he asked, highly pleased. "The biggest I ever got my teeth into," said Paul, straightening up. "I'm ashamed to have Lydia know anything about it, though. I didn't bring a hack to take her to the dance." "Oh, I never thought you would," cried Lydia, standing up and stamping her feet down in her overshoes--an action that added emphasis to her protest. "I'd rather walk, it's such a little way. I like it better when I'm not costing people money." "You're not like most of your sex," said Paul. "Down in Mexico, when I was there on the Brighton job, I heard a Spanish proverb: 'If a pretty woman smiles, some purse is shedding tears.'"