long as might be, listening politely to his host's remarks, and looking,
looking--for a chance to make a reason to come again. Quite unexpectedly
it was offered him by the Judge himself.

"I wonder if you could recommend to me," said Judge Gray as Richard was
about to take his leave, "a capable young man--college-bred, of
course--to come here daily or weekly as I might need him, to assist me
in the work of preparing my book. My eyes, as you see, will not allow me
to use them for much more than the reading of a paragraph, and while my
family are very ready to help whenever they have the time, mine is so
serious a task, likely to continue for so long a period, that I shall
need continuous and prolonged assistance. Do you happen to know--?"

Well, it can hardly be explained. This was a rich man's heir and the
grandson of millions more, in need--according to his own point of
view--of no further education along the lines of work, and he had a
voyage to the Far East in prospect. Certainly, a fortnight earlier the
thing furthest from his thoughts would have been the engaging of himself
as amanuensis and general literary assistant to an ex-judge upon so
prosaic a task as the history of the Supreme Court of the State. To say
that a rose-hued scarf, a laugh, and an alluring speaking voice explain
it seems absurd, even when you add to these that which the young man saw
during that moment of time when he looked into the face of their owner.
Rather would I declare that it was the subtle atmosphere of that which
in all his travels he had never really seen before--a home. At all
events a new force of some sort had taken hold upon him, and was leading
him whither he had never thought to go.

If Judge Gray was surprised that the grandson of his old friend Matthew
Kendrick should thus offer himself for the obscure and comparatively