Nevertheless, she was the first to speak.
"This is very good of you, Judge Ostrander," she remarked, in a
voice both cultured and pleasant. "I could hardly have hoped for
this honour. After what happened this morning at your house, I
feared that my wish for an interview would not only be disregarded
by you, but that you would utterly refuse me the privilege of
seeing you. I own to feeling greatly relieved. Such consideration
shown to a stranger, argues a spirit of unusual kindliness."
A tirade. He simply bowed.
"Or perhaps I am mistaken in my supposition," she suggested,
advancing a step, but no more. "Perhaps I am no stranger to you?
Perhaps you know my name?"
"Averill? No."
She paused, showing her disappointment quite openly. Then drawing
up a chair, she leaned heavily on its back, saying in low,
monotonous tones from which the former eager thrill had departed:
"I see that the intended marriage of your son has made very little
impression upon you."
Aghast for the moment, this was such a different topic from the
one he expected, the judge regarded her in silence before
remarking:
"I have known nothing of it. My son's concerns are no longer mine.
If you have broken into my course of life for no other purpose
than to discuss the affairs of Oliver Ostrander, I must beg you to
excuse me. I have nothing to say in his connection to you or to
any one."
"Is the breach between you so deep as that!"
This she said in a low tone and more as if to herself than to him.
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