“Such delicacy can withstand a blow, but not a steady heartbreak.  When, on that dreadful night I crept in from my sleepless bed to see how my darling was bearing her long watch, this was what I saw.  She had not moved, no, not an inch in the long hours which had passed since I left her.  She had not even stirred the hand from which, at her request, I had myself drawn her engagement ring.  I doubt even if her lids had shut once over her strained and wide-staring eyes.  It was as if she were laid out for her grave—­”

“Madam!”

The harsh tone recalled her to herself.  She took back the picture he was holding towards her and was hardly surprised when he said: 

“Parents must learn to endure bitterness.  I have not been exempt myself from such.  Your child will not die.  You have years of mutual companionship before you, while I have nothing.  And now let us end this interview so painful to both.  You have said—­”

“No,” she broke in with sudden vehemence, all the more startling from the restraint in which she had—­held herself up to this moment, “I have not said—­I have not begun to say what seethes like a consuming fire in my breast.  Judge Ostrander, I do not know what has estranged you from Oliver.  It must be something serious;- -for you are both good men.  But whatever it is, of this I am certain:  you would not wilfully deliver an innocent child like mine to a wretched fate which a well-directed effort might avert.  I spoke of a miracle—­Will you not listen, judge?  I am not wild; I am not unconscious of presumption.  I am only in earnest, in deadly earnest.  A miracle is possible.  The gulf between these two may yet be spanned.  I see a way—­”

What change was this to which she had suddenly become witness?  The face which had not lost all its underlying benignancy even when it looked its coldest, had now become settled and hard.  His manner was absolutely repellent as he broke in with the quick disclaimer: 

“But there is no way.  What miracle could ever make your daughter, lovely as she undoubtedly is, a fitting match for my son!  None, madam, absolutely none.  Such an alliance would be monstrous; unnatural.”

“Why?” The word came out boldly.  If she was intimidated by this unexpected attack from a man accustomed to deference and altogether able to exact it, she did not show it.  “Because her father died the death of a criminal?” she asked.

The answer was equally blunt: 

“Yes; a criminal over whose trial his father presided as judge.”

Was she daunted?  No.  Quick as a flash came the retort.

“A judge, however, who showed him every consideration possible.  I was told at the time and I have been assured by many since that you were more than just to him in your rulings.  Such a memory creates a bond of gratitude, not hate.  Judge Ostrander”—­He had taken a step towards the hall-door; but he paused at this utterance of his name—­“answer me this one question.  Why did you do this?  As his widow, as the mother of his child, I implore you to tell me why you showed him this leniency?  You must have hated him deeply—­”