Judy | Page 4

forced respect.
"Oh," she said, and sat back in her chair, limply.
The Judge looked anxiously at her disappointed face.
"Judy is so lonely," he pleaded, and Mrs. Batcheller unbent.
"Anne has her lessons."
"But to-morrow is Saturday."
"Well--she may go this time. How long do you want her to stay?"
"Until Sunday night," said the Judge. "I will bring her back in time for
school on Monday."
Anne went up-stairs in a flutter of excitement. Visits were rare treats in
her uneventful life, and she had never stayed at Judge Jameson's
overnight, although she had often been there to tea, and the great old
house had seemed the palace beautiful of her dreams.
But Judy!
"She is so different from any girl I have ever met," she explained to the
little grandmother, who had followed her to her room under the eaves,
and was packing her bag for her.
"Different? How?"
"Well, she isn't like Nannie May or Amelia Morrison."
"I should hope not," said the little grandmother with severity. "Nan is a
tomboy, and Amelia hasn't a bit of spirit--not a bit, Anne."

Anne changed the subject, skilfully. "Do you like Judy?" she
questioned.
"She is very much spoiled," said the little grandmother, slowly, "a very
spoiled child, indeed. Her mother began it, and the Judge will keep it
up. But Judy is like her grandmother at the same age, Anne, and her
grandmother turned out to be a charming woman--it's in the blood."
"She says she is going to live with the Judge." Anne was folding her
best blue ribbons, with quite a grown-up air.
"Yes. I have never told you, Anne, but the Judge's son was in the navy,
and four years ago he went for a cruise and never came back."
"Was he drowned?"
"He was washed overboard during a storm, and every one except Judy
believes that he was drowned. Even Judy's mother believed it in time,
but Judy won't. She thinks he will come back, and so she has lived on
in her old home by the sea, with a cousin of her father's for a
companion--always with the hope that he will come back. But the
cousin was married in the winter, and so Judy is to live with the Judge.
He has always wanted it that way--but Judy clung desperately to the
life in the old house by the sea. The Judge will spoil her--he can't deny
her anything."
"What pretty things she has," said Anne, looking down distastefully at
the simple gown and neat but plain garments that the little grandmother
was packing into a shiny black bag.
The little grandmother gave her a quick look. "Never mind, dearie," she
said, "just remember that you are a gentlewoman by birth, and try to be
sweet and loving, and don't worry about the clothes."
But as she tied the shabby old hat with its faded roses on the fair little
head, her own old eyes were wistful. "I wish I could give you pretty
things, my little Anne," she whispered.

Anne gave a remorseful cry. "I don't mind, little grandmother," she said,
"I don't really," and for a moment her warm young cheek lay against
the soft old one.
A tiny mirror opposite reflected the two faces. "How much we look
alike," cried Anne, noticing it for the first time. Then she sighed. "But
my hair doesn't curl like yours, little grandmother," and in that lament
was voiced the greatest trial, that had, as yet, come to Anne.
"Neither does Judy's," said Mrs. Batcheller, and Anne brightened up,
but when she went down-stairs and saw Judy's bronze locks giving out
wonderful lights where they were looped up with a broad black ribbon
she sighed again.
When the carriage drove around, Anne caught Belinda up in her arms.
"Good-bye, pussy cat, pussy cat," she cried, "take care of grandmother,
and don't catch any birds."
Belinda crooned a loving song, and tucked her pretty head under her
little mistress' chin.
"You're a dear, Belinda," said Anne, "and so is Becky," and at the
sound of her name the tame crow flew to Anne's shoulder and gave her
a pecking kiss.
"Oh, come on," said Judy, impatiently, and the Judge lifted the shiny
bag and put it on the front seat; then they waved their hands to the little
grandmother and were off.
It was five miles to town, but the ride did not seem long to Anne. She
pointed out all the places of interest to Judy.
"That is where I go to school," she said, as they passed a low white
building at the crossroads, and later when the setting sun shone red and
gold on two low glass hothouses set in the corner of a scraggly lawn,
she explained their use to Judy.

"That's