“About the loveliest day that ever happened in Hillsboro,” he said, and there was still more of the delicious smile, “though I hadn’t noticed it so especially until—­”

But I never knew what he had intended to say, for Billy suddenly swelled up like a little turkey-cock and cut out with his switch at the judge.

“Go away, man, and let my Molly alone!” he said, in a perfect thunder-tone of voice; but I almost laughed, for it had such a sound in it like Dr. John’s at his most positive times with Billy and me.

“No, no, Billy; the judge is just looking over the hedge at our flowers!  Don’t you want to give him a rose?” I hurried to say, as the smile died out of Judge Wade’s face and he looked at Billy intently.

“How like John Moore the youngster is!” he said, and his voice was so cold to Billy that it hurt me, and I was afraid Billy would notice it.  Coldness in people’s voices always makes me feel just like ice-cream tastes.  But Billy’s answer was still more rude.

“You’d better go, man, before I bring my father to set our dog on you,” he exploded, and, before I could stop him, his thin little legs went trundling down the garden path toward home.

Then the judge and I both laughed.  We couldn’t help it.  The judge leaned farther over the fence, and I went a little nearer before I knew it.

“You don’t need to keep a personal dog, do you, Mrs. Carter?” he asked, with a twinkle that might have been a spark in his eyes, and just at that moment another awful thing happened.  Aunt Adeline came out of the front door, and said in the most frozen tone of voice—­

“Mary, I wish to speak to you in the house,” and then walked back through the front door without even looking in Judge Wade’s direction, though he had waved his hat with one of his mother’s own smiles when he had seen her before I did.  One of my most impossible habits is, when there is nothing else to do I laugh.  I did it then, and it saved the day, for we both laughed into each other’s eyes, and, before we realised it, we were within whispering distance.

“No, I don’t—­don’t—­need any dog,” I said softly, hardly glancing out from under my lashes, because I was afraid to risk looking straight at him again so soon.  I could fairly feel Aunt Adeline’s eyes boring into my back.

“It would take the hydra-headed monster of—­may I bring my mother to call on you and the—­Mrs. Henderson?” he asked, and poured the wonder smile all over me.  Again I almost caught my breath.

“I do wish you would, Aunt Adeline is so fond of Mrs. Wade!” I said in a positive flutter that I hope he didn’t see; but I am afraid he did, for he hesitated as if he wanted to say something to calm me, then bowed mercifully and went on down the street.  He didn’t put on the hat he had held in his hand all the while he stood by the hedge until he had looked back and bowed again.  Then I felt still more fluttered as I went into the house, but I received the third cold plunge of the day when I reached the front hall.