For the moment she had lost sight of what was clearly the judge's besetting sin.
The judge paused abruptly.

He endured a moment of agonizing irresolution.
"On the advice of my physician I dare not touch wine--gout, ma'am, and liver--but this restriction does not apply to corn whisky--in moderation, and as a tonic--either before meals, immediately after meals or at any time between meals--always keeping in mind the idea of its tonic properties--" The judge seemed to mellow and ripen.

This was much better than having the dogs sicked on you! His manner toward Betty became almost fatherly.

Poor young thing, so lonely and desolate in the midst of all this splendor--he surreptitiously wiped away a tear, and when little Steve presented himself and was told to bring whisky, audibly smacked his lips--a whole lot better, surely! "I am sorry you think you must hurry away, Judge Price," said Betty.

She still retained the small brown hand Hannibal had thrust into hers.
"The eastern mail gets in to-day, ma'am, and I have reason to think my share of it will be especially heavy, for it brings the bulk of my professional correspondence." In ten years the judge had received just one communication by mail--a bill which had followed him through four states and seven counties.