But, of course, there was always the chance of an
encounter, and he never opened the house door without the feeling that
just inside might be a certain figure on its way out.
"Next week is Christmas week," explained Judge Gray. He stood upon the
hearth-rug, his back to the open fire, warming his hands preparatory to
taking up his pen. His fingers were apt to be a little stiff on these
December mornings. "During Christmas week this house is always given
over to such holiday doings as I don't imagine another house in town
ever knows. Christmas house-parties are plenty, I believe, but not the
sort of house-party we indulge in. I am inclined to think ours beats the
world."
He chuckled, running his hand through the thick white locks above his
brow with a gesture which Richard had come to know meant special
satisfaction.
"You have so many and such delightful people?" suggested his assistant.
The white head nodded. "The house would hardly hold more, nor could they
be more delightful. You see, there are five brothers of us. I am the
eldest, Robert the youngest. Rufus, Henry, and Philip come between.
Henry and Philip live in small towns, Rufus in the country proper.
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