TOM GROGAN
After some moments of thought the judge turned to the president of the board, and said in a measured, deliberate voice:—
“This signature, in my opinion, is a proper one. No fraud is charged, and under the testimony none was intended. The law gives Mrs. Grogan the right to use any title she chooses in conducting her business—her husband's name, or any other. The contract must stand as it is.”
Here the judge arose and entered his private office, shutting the door behind him.
Tom had listened with eyes dilating, every nerve in her body at highest tension. Her contempt for Rowan in his abuse of her; her anger against Dempsey at his insults; her gratitude to Babcock as he stood up to defend her; her fears for the outcome, as she listened to the calm, judicial voice of the judge,—each producing a different sensation of heat and cold,—were all forgotten in the wild rush of joy that surged through her as the judge's words fell upon her ear. She shed no tears, as other women might have done. Every fibre of her being seemed to be turned to steel. She was herself again—she, Tom Grogan!—firm on her own feet,
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