Unconsciously his glance fixed itself on the hand he had raised to shield his eyes from the light of the blazing logs, and it occurred to him that that hand might yet be called on to sign away a man's life.
The ringing of his door-bell caused him to start expectantly, and a moment later a maid entered to say that a man and a woman wished to see him.
"Show them in!" said the judge.
And Mr.Shrimplin with all that modesty of demeanor which one of his sensitive nature might be expected to feel in the presence of greatness, promptly insinuated himself into the room.
The little lamplighter was dressed in those respectable garments which in the Shrimplin household were adequately described as his "other suit," and as if to remove any doubt from the mind of the beholder that he had failed to prepare himself for the occasion, he wore a clean paper collar, but no tie, this latter being an adornment Mr.Shrimplin had not attempted in years.

Close on Shrimplin's heels came a jaded unkempt woman in a black dress, worn and mended.

On seeing her the judge's cold scrutiny somewhat relaxed.
"So it's you, Nellie ?" he said, and motioned her to a chair opposite his own.
Not knowing exactly what was expected of him, Mr.Shrimplin remained standing in the middle of the room, hat in hand.
"Be seated, Shrimplin," said the judge, sensing something of the lamplighter's embarrassment in his presence and rather liking him for it.
"Thank you, Judge," replied Shrimplin, selecting a straight-backed chair in a shadowy corner of the room, on the very edge of which he humbly established himself.
"Better draw nearer the fire, Shrimplin!" advised the judge.
"Thank you, Judge, I ain't cold," rejoined Mr.Shrimplin in his best manner.
The judge turned to the woman.

She had once been a servant in his household, but had quitted his employ to marry Joe Montgomery, and to become by that same act Mr.Shrimplin's sister-in-law.

The judge knew that her domestic life had been filled with every known variety of trouble, since from time to time she had appealed to him for help or advice, and on more than one occasion at her urgent request he had interviewed the bibulous Joe.
"I hope you are not in trouble, Nellie," he said, not unkindly.
"Yes I am, Judge!" cried his visitor in a voice worn thin by weariness.
"It's that disgustin' Joe!" interjected Mr.Shrimplin from his corner, advancing his hooked nose from the shadows.