And it is my advice, that the whole matter be referred back for a
new award as to time. A year longer should be conceded to the
executors under the old will."
"That would be equitable," said the Judge.
"I am afraid," I made answer to this, "that Mr. Wallingford will not
consent to any postponement."
"He won't? The hound!" I was startled by the fierceness of Dewey's
tone of voice, and, turning to look at him, saw on his countenance
an expression of malignant hatred.
"Ralph!" said Judge Bigelow, in a warning voice.
"I can't repress my indignation," answered the nephew. "What demons
from the nether hell have conspired to give _him_ power over us? If
it had been any other man in the world I could have borne it
patiently."
"Ralph! Ralph!" interposed the Judge, in a deprecating voice.
"It is no use, uncle. I cannot keep down my feeling," was replied.
"To see you hunted by this hound, who owes you everything."
"Pardon me, Mr. Dewey," said I, "but I cannot hear such language
used towards a gentleman of irreproachable character. Mr.
Wallingford is not entitled to the epithet you give; and I warn you,
not to repeat that, or anything like it, in my presence.
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