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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Young Mutineer, by Mrs. L. T. Meade
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Young Mutineer
+
+Author: Mrs. L. T. Meade
+
+Release Date: February 13, 2008 [EBook #24599]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YOUNG MUTINEER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Jacqueline Jeremy and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+    +------------------------------------------------------+
+    |Transcriber's Note:                                   |
+    |                                                      |
+    |The words "if only little Judy had stayed with me, I  |
+    |should", possible repeated instead of the first words |
+    |of the next sentence, have been reproduced as typeset.|
+    +------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+A YOUNG MUTINEER
+
+
+[Illustration: "WAS THE PERSON FICKLE, AND DID HE BREAK HIS PROMISE?"
+_Frontispiece._]
+
+
+    A Young Mutineer
+
+    BY
+
+    MRS. L. T. MEADE
+
+    AUTHOR OF "A GIRL IN TEN THOUSAND," "A RING OF
+    RUBIES," "GIRLS NEW AND OLD," ETC.
+
+    NEW YORK
+    STITT PUBLISHING COMPANY
+    1905
+
+
+    TO
+    MY LITTLE GIRL HOPE
+    THE REAL JUDY
+    October 23, 1893
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+    CHAPTER                                       PAGE
+
+          I. AN OLD-FASHIONED LITTLE PAIR            1
+
+         II. THE PEOPLE WHO GET MARRIED             14
+
+        III. A QUESTION AND AN ANSWER               26
+
+         IV. CHANGES                                36
+
+          V. IN A GARDEN                            52
+
+         VI. THE EVE OF THE WEDDING                 67
+
+        VII. A WEDDING PRESENT                      82
+
+       VIII. HONEYMOON                              91
+
+         IX. STARVED                               101
+
+          X. WAITING                               118
+
+         XI. HUSBAND AND WIFE                      129
+
+        XII. HILDA'S ENGAGEMENT RING               149
+
+       XIII. JUDY'S ROOM                           157
+
+        XIV. THE LITTLE RIFT                       174
+
+         XV. THREE IS TRUMPERY                     186
+
+        XVI. A LITTLE GIRL AND A LITTLE CROSS      195
+
+       XVII. JUDY'S SECRET                         208
+
+      XVIII. GIANT-KILLER                          224
+
+        XIX. GOOD OMENS                            253
+
+
+
+
+A YOUNG MUTINEER.
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+AN OLD-FASHIONED LITTLE PAIR.
+
+    Sun and shower--sun and shower--
+      Now rough, now smooth, is the winding way;
+    Thorn and flower--thorn and flower--
+      Which will you gather? Who can say?
+    Wayward hearts, there's a world for your winning,
+      Sorrow and laughter, love or woe:
+    Who can tell in the day's beginning
+      The paths that your wandering feet shall go?
+
+                    --MARY MACLEOD.
+
+
+The village choir were practicing in the church--their voices, somewhat
+harsh and uncultivated, were sending forth volumes of sound into the
+summer air. The church doors were thrown open, and a young man dressed
+in cricketing-flannels was leaning against the porch. He was tall, and
+square-shouldered, with closely-cropped dark hair, and a keen,
+intelligent face.
+
+When the music became very loud and discordant he moved impatiently, but
+as the human voices ceased and the sweet notes of the voluntary sounded
+in full melody on the little organ, a look of relief swept like a
+soothing hand over his forehead.
+
+The gates of the Rectory were within a stone's throw of the church. Up
+the avenue three people might have been seen advancing. Two were
+children, one an adult. The grown member of this little group was tall
+and slight; she wore spectacles, and although not specially gifted with
+wisdom, possessed a particularly wise appearance. The two little girls,
+who were her pupils, walked somewhat sedately by her side. As they
+passed the church the governess looked neither to right nor left, but
+the eldest girl fixed her keen and somewhat hungry eyes with a
+questioning gaze on the young man who stood in the porch. He nodded back
+to her a glance full of intelligence, which he further emphasized by a
+quick and somewhat audacious wink from his left eye. The little girl
+walked on loftily; she thought that Jasper Quentyns, who was more or
+less a stranger in the neighborhood, had taken a distinct liberty.
+
+"What's the matter, Judy?" asked the smallest of the girls.
+
+"Nothing," replied Judy quickly. She turned to her governess as she
+spoke. "Miss Mills, I was very good at my lessons to-day, wasn't I?"
+
+"Yes, Judy."
+
+"You are not going to forget what you promised me?"
+
+"I am afraid I do forget; what was it?"
+
+"You said if I were really good I might stop at the church on my way
+back and go home with Hilda. I have been good, so I may go home with
+Hilda, may I not?"
+
+"Yes, child, of course, if I promised, but we are only just on our walk
+now. It is a fine autumnal day, and I want to get to the woods to pick
+some bracken and heather, for your Aunt Marjorie has asked me to fill
+all the vases for dinner to-night. There are not half enough flowers in
+the garden, so I must go to the woods, whatever happens. Your sister
+will have left the church when we return, Judy."
+
+"No, she won't," replied Judy. "The practice will be twice as long as
+usual to-day because of the Harvest Festival on Sunday."
+
+"Well, if she is there you can go in and wait for her, as you have been
+a good girl. Now let us talk of something else."
+
+"I have nothing else to talk about," answered Judy, somewhat sulkily.
+
+The bright expression which gave her small eager face its charm, left
+it; she fell back a pace or two, and Miss Mills walked on alone in
+front.
+
+Judy was not popular with her governess. Miss Mills was tired of her
+constant remarks about Hilda. She had a good deal to think of to-day,
+and she was pleased to let her two pupils amuse themselves.
+
+Judy's hungry and unsatisfied eyes softened and grew happy when their
+gaze fell upon Babs. Babs was only six, and she had a power of
+interesting everyone with whom she came in contact. Her wise, fat face,
+somewhat solemn in expression, was the essence of good-humor. Her blue
+eyes were as serene as an unruffled summer pool. She could say heaps of
+old-fashioned, quaint things. She had strong likes and dislikes, but she
+was never known to be cross. She adored Judy, but Judy only liked her,
+for all Judy's passionate love was already disposed of. It centered
+itself round her eldest sister, Hilda.
+
+The day was a late one in September. The air was still very balmy and
+even warm, and Miss Mills soon found herself sufficiently tired to be
+glad to take advantage of a stile which led right through the field into
+the woods to rest herself. She sat comfortably on the top of the stile,
+and looking down the road saw that her little pupils were disporting
+themselves happily; they were not in the slightest danger, and she was
+in no hurry to call them to her side.
+
+"Children are the most fagging creatures in Christendom," she said to
+herself; "for my part I can't understand anyone going into raptures over
+them. For one nice child there are twenty disagreeable ones. I have
+nothing to say against Babs, of course; but Judy, she is about the most
+spoilt creature I ever came across, and of course it is all Hilda's
+fault. I must speak to Mr. Merton, I really must, if this goes on. Hilda
+and Judy ought to be parted, but of course Hilda won't leave home
+unless, unless--ah, I wonder if there is _any_ chance of that. Too good
+news to be true. Too good luck for Mr. Quentyns anyhow. I shouldn't be
+surprised if he is trying to get Hilda all this time, but--he is
+scarcely likely to succeed. Poor Judy! what a blow anything of that kind
+would be to her; but of course there is not the least chance of it."
+
+Miss Mills took off her hat as she spoke, and allowed the summer air to
+play with her somewhat thin fringe and to cool her heated cheeks.
+
+"I hate children," she soliloquized. "I did hope that my time of
+servitude was nearly over, but when men prove so unfaithful!" Here a
+very angry gleam flashed out of her eyes; she put her hand into her
+pocket, and taking out a letter, read it slowly and carefully. Her
+expression was not pleasant while she perused the words on the closely
+written page.
+
+She had just returned the letter to its envelope when a gay voice
+sounded in her ears. A girl was seen walking across the field and
+approaching the stile. She was a fair-haired, pretty girl, dressed in
+the height of the fashion. She had a merry laugh, and a merry voice, and
+two very bright blue eyes.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Mills?" she called to her. "I am going to see
+Hilda. Can you tell me if she is at home?"
+
+"How do you do, Miss Anstruther?" replied Miss Mills; "I did not know
+you had returned."
+
+"Yes, we all came home yesterday. I am longing to see Hilda, I have such
+heaps of things to tell her. Is she at the Rectory?"
+
+"At the present moment she is very busily employed trying to train the
+most unmelodious choir in Great Britain," replied Miss Mills. "The
+Harvest Festival takes place on Sunday, and in consequence she has more
+than usual to do."
+
+"Ah, you need not tell me; I am not going to venture within sound of
+that choir. I shall go down to the Rectory and wait until her duties are
+ended. There is not the least hurry. Good-by, Miss Mills. Are the
+children well?"
+
+"You can see for yourself," replied Miss Mills; "they are coming up the
+road side by side."
+
+"Old-fashioned little pair," replied Miss Anstruther, with a laugh.
+"I'll just run down the road and give them a kiss each, and then go on
+to the Rectory."
+
+Miss Mills did not say anything further. Miss Anstruther mounted the
+stile, called out to the children to announce her approach, kissed them
+when they met, received an earnest gaze from Judy and an indifferent one
+from Babs, and went on her way.
+
+"Do you like her, Judy?" asked Babs, when the pretty girl had left them.
+
+"Oh, yes!" replied Judy in a careless tone; "she is well enough. I don't
+love her, if that's what you mean, Babs."
+
+"Of course it isn't what I mean," replied Babs. "How many rooms have you
+got in your heart, Judy?"
+
+"One big room quite full," replied Judy with emphasis.
+
+"I know--it's full of Hilda."
+
+"It is."
+
+"I have got a good many rooms in my heart," said Babs. "Mr. Love is in
+some of them, and Mr. Like is in others. Have you no room in your heart
+for Mr. Like, Judy?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then poor Miss Mills does not live in your heart at all?"
+
+"No. Oh, dear! what a long walk she's going to take us to-day. If I had
+known that this morning, I wouldn't have taken so much pains over my
+arithmetic. I shan't have a scrap of time with Hilda. It is too bad. I
+am sure Miss Mills does it to worry me. She never can bear us to be
+together."
+
+"Poor Judy!" replied Babs. "I shan't let Miss Mills live in my heart at
+all if she vexes you; but oh, dear; oh, dear! Just look, do look! Do you
+see that monstrous spider over there, the one with the sun shining on
+his web?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Don't you love spiders?"
+
+"Of course. I love all animals. I have a separate heart for animals."
+
+Babs looked intensely interested.
+
+"I love all animals too," she said, "every single one, all kinds--_even_
+pigs. Don't you love pigs, Judy?"
+
+"Of course I do."
+
+"I wonder if Miss Mills does? There she is, reading her letter. She has
+read it twenty times already to-day, so she must know it by heart now.
+Let's run up and ask her if she loves pigs."
+
+Judy quickened her steps, and the two little girls presently reached the
+stile.
+
+"Miss Mills," said Babs, in her clear voice, "we want to know something
+very badly. Do you love pigs?"
+
+"Do I love pigs?" asked Miss Mills with a start. "You ridiculous child,
+what nonsense you are talking!"
+
+"But do you?" repeated Babs. "It is most important for Judy and me to
+know; for we love them, poor things--we think they're awfully nice."
+
+Miss Mills laughed in the kind of manner which always irritated Judy.
+
+"I am sorry not to be able to join your very peculiar hero-worship, my
+dears," she said. "I can't say that I am attached to the pig."
+
+"Then it is very wrong of you," said Judy, her eyes flashing, "when you
+think of all the poor pig does for you."
+
+"Of all the poor pig does for me! What next?"
+
+"You wouldn't be the woman you are but for the pig," said Judy. "Don't
+you eat him every day of your life for breakfast? You wouldn't be as
+strong as you are but for the poor pig, and the least you can do is to
+love him. I don't suppose he likes being killed to oblige you."
+
+Judy's great eyes were flashing, and her little sensitive mouth was
+quivering.
+
+Miss Mills gave her a non-comprehending glance. She could not in the
+least fathom the child's queer passionate nature. Injustice of all sorts
+preyed upon Judy; she could make herself morbid on almost any theme, and
+a gloomy picture now filled her little soul. The animals were giving up
+their lives for the human race, and the human race did not even give
+them affection in return.
+
+"Is that letter very funny?" asked Babs.
+
+"It is not funny, but it is interesting to me."
+
+"Do you love the person who wrote it to you?"
+
+Miss Mills let the sheet of closely-written paper fall upon her lap; her
+eyes gazed into the child's serene and wise little face. Something
+impelled her to say words which she knew could not be understood.
+
+"I hate the person who wrote that letter more than anyone else in all
+the world," she exclaimed.
+
+There was a passionate ring in her thin voice. The emotion which filled
+her voice and shone out of her eyes gave pathos to her commonplace
+face. Babs began to pull a flower to pieces. She had never conjugated
+the verb to hate, and did not know in the least what it meant; but Judy
+looked at her governess with new interest.
+
+"Why do you get letters from the person you hate so much?" she asked.
+
+"Don't ask any more questions," replied Miss Mills. She folded up the
+sheet of paper, slipped it into its envelope, replaced the envelope in
+her pocket, and started to her feet. "Let us continue our walk," she
+said. "We shall reach the woods in five minutes if we are quick."
+
+"But," said Judy, as they went down the path across the field, "I
+_should_ like to know, Miss Mills, why you get letters from a person you
+hate."
+
+"When little girls ask troublesome questions they must not expect them
+to be answered," responded Miss Mills.
+
+Judy was silent. The faint, passing interest she had experienced died
+out of her face, and the rather sulky, unsatisfied expression returned
+to it.
+
+Miss Mills, whose heart was very full of something, spoke again, more to
+herself than to the children.
+
+"If there is one bigger mistake than another," she said, "it is the
+mistake of being fond of any one. Oh, how silly girls are when they get
+engaged to be married!"
+
+"What's that?" asked Babs.
+
+"I know," said Judy, who was again all curiosity and interest. "I'll
+tell you another time about it, Babs. Miss Hicks in the village was
+engaged, and she had a wedding in the summer. I'll tell you all about
+it, Babs, if you ask me when we are going to bed to-night. Please, Miss
+Mills, why is it dreadful to be engaged to be married?"
+
+"Your troubles begin then," said Miss Mills. "Oh, don't talk to me about
+it, children. May you never understand what I am suffering! Oh, the
+fickleness of some people! The promises that are made only to be broken!
+You trust a person, and you are ever so happy; and then you find that
+you have made a great, big mistake, and you are miserable."
+
+"Is that you, Miss Mills? Are you the miserable person?" asked Judy.
+
+"No, no, child! I didn't say it was me. I wasn't talking of anyone in
+particular, and I shouldn't even have said what I did. Forget it,
+Judy--forget it, Babs. Come, let us collect the ferns."
+
+"Suppose we find some white heather," said Babs eagerly.
+
+"And much that's worth, too," replied Miss Mills. "I found a piece last
+summer. I gave----" She sighed, and the corners of her mouth drooped.
+She looked as if she were going to cry.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE PEOPLE WHO GET MARRIED.
+
+    Thou wert mine--all mine!...
+      --Where has summer fled?
+    Sun forgets to shine,
+      Clouds are overhead;
+    Blows a chilling blast,
+      Tells my frightened heart
+    That the hour at last
+      Comes when we must part.
+    Hurrying moments, stay,
+      Leave us yet alone!--
+    All the world grows gray,
+      Love, when thou art flown.
+
+
+Judy's soul swelled within her when she heard the music still sending
+volumes of sound out of the little church. Miss Mills had not spoken all
+the way home. Babs had chattered without a moment's intermission. Her
+conversation had been entirely about birds and beasts and creeping
+things. Judy had replied with rather less interest than usual. She was
+so anxious to hurry home, so fearful of being too late. Now it was all
+right. Hilda was still in the church, and, delightful--more than
+delightful--the discordant notes of the choir had ceased, and only the
+delicious sounds of the organ were borne on the breeze.
+
+"Hilda is in the church," said Judy, pulling her governess by her
+sleeve. "Good-by, Miss Mills; good-by, Babs."
+
+She rushed away, scarcely heeding her governess's voice as it called
+after her to be sure to be back at the Rectory in time for tea.
+
+The church doors were still open, but the young man in the
+cricketing-flannels, who had stood in the porch when Judy had started on
+her walk, was no longer to be seen. The little girl stole into the quiet
+church on tip-toe, crept up to her sister Hilda's side, and lying down
+on the floor, laid her head on her sister's white dress.
+
+Judy's lips kissed the hem of the dress two or three times; then she lay
+quiet, a sweet expression round her lips, a tranquil, satisfied light in
+her eyes. Here she was at rest, her eager, craving heart was full and
+satisfied.
+
+"You dear little monkey!" said Hilda, pausing for a moment in her really
+magnificent rendering of one of Bach's most passionate fugues. She
+touched the child's head lightly with her hand as she spoke.
+
+"Oh, don't stop, Hilda; go on. I am so happy," whispered Judy back.
+
+Hilda smiled, and immediately resumed the music which thrilled through
+and through Judy's soul.
+
+Hilda was eighteen, and the full glory and bloom of this perfect age
+surrounded her; it shone in her dark red-brown hair, and gleamed in her
+brown eyes, and smiled on her lips and even echoed from her sweet voice.
+Hilda would always be lovely to look at, but she had the tender radiance
+of early spring about her now. Judy was not the only person who thought
+her the fairest creature in the world.
+
+While she was playing, and the influence of the music was more and more
+filling her face, there came a shadow across the church door. The shadow
+lengthened and grew longer, and the young man, whose smile Judy had
+ignored, came softly across the church and up to Hilda's side.
+
+"Go on playing," he said, nodding to her. "I have been waiting and
+listening. I can wait and listen a little longer if you will allow me to
+sit in the church."
+
+"I shall have done in a moment," said Hilda. "I just want to choose
+something for the final voluntary." She took up a book of lighter music
+as she spoke, and selecting some of Haydn's sweet and gracious melodies,
+began to play.
+
+Judy stirred restlessly. Jasper Quentyns came closer, so close that his
+shadow fell partly over the child as she lay on the ground, and quite
+shut away the evening sunlight as it streamed over Hilda's figure.
+Jasper was a musician himself, and he made comments which were listened
+to attentively.
+
+Hilda played the notes as he directed her. She brought added volume into
+certain passages, she rendered the light staccato notes with precision.
+
+"Oh, you are spoiling the playing," said Judy suddenly. She started up,
+knitting her black brows and glaring angrily at Jasper Quentyns.
+
+"You don't mean to say you are here all the time, you little puss," he
+exclaimed. "I thought you and Miss Mills and Babs were miles away by
+now. Why, what's the matter, child? Why do you frown at me as if I were
+an ogre?"
+
+Hilda put her arm round Judy's waist. The contact of Hilda's arm was
+like balm to the child; she smiled and held out her hand penitently.
+
+"Of course I don't think you are an ogre," she said, "but I do wish you
+would let Hilda play her music her own way."
+
+"Oh, don't talk nonsense, Judy," said Hilda; "you quite forget that Mr.
+Quentyns knows a great deal more about music than I do."
+
+"He doesn't play half nor quarter as well as you, for all that," replied
+Judy, with emphasis.
+
+Hilda bent forward and kissed her little sister on her forehead.
+
+"We won't have any more music at present," she said, "it is time for us
+to return to the house. You are going to dine at the Rectory this
+evening, are you not, Mr. Quentyns?"
+
+"If you will have me."
+
+"Of course we shall all be delighted to have you."
+
+"Hilda," said Judy, "do you know that Mildred Anstruther is down at the
+house waiting to see you?"
+
+A faint shadow of disappointment flitted across Hilda Merton's face--an
+additional wave of color mounted to Jasper Quentyns' brow. He looked at
+Hilda to see if she had noticed it; Hilda turned from him and began to
+arrange her music.
+
+"Come," she said, "we mustn't keep Mildred waiting."
+
+"What has she come for?" asked Jasper, as the three walked down the
+shady avenue.
+
+"You know you are glad to see her," replied Hilda suddenly.
+
+Something in her tone caused Jasper to laugh and raise his brows in
+mock surprise. Judy looked eagerly from one face to the other. Her heart
+began to beat with fierce dislike to Jasper. What right had he to
+interfere with Hilda's music, and above all things, what right, pray,
+had he to bring that tone, into Hilda's beloved voice?
+
+Judy clasped her sister's arm with a tight pressure. In a few minutes
+they reached the old-fashioned and cozy Rectory.
+
+The Rector was pacing about in the pleasant evening sunshine, and
+Mildred Anstruther was walking by his side and chatting to him.
+
+"Oh, here you are," said Mildred, running up to her friend and greeting
+her with affection; "and you have come too, Mr. Quentyns?--this is a
+delightful surprise."
+
+"You had better run into the house now, Judy," said Hilda. "Yes,
+darling, go at once."
+
+"May I come down after dinner to-night, Hilda?"
+
+"You look rather pale, Judy, and as we are having friends to dinner it
+may be best for you to go to bed early," said another voice. It
+proceeded from the comfortable, good-natured mouth of Aunt Marjorie.
+
+"No, no, Aunt Maggie, you won't send me to bed. Hilda, you'll plead for
+me, won't you?" gasped Judy.
+
+"I think she may come down just for half an hour, auntie," said Hilda,
+smiling.
+
+"Well, child, it must be as you please; of course we all know who spoils
+Judy."
+
+"Of course we all know who loves Judy," said Hilda. "Now are you
+satisfied, my sweet? Run away; be the best of good children. Eat a
+hearty tea; don't think of any trouble. Oh, Judy! what a frown you have
+between your brows; let me kiss it away. I'll find you in the drawing
+room after dinner."
+
+"And you'll come and talk to me if only for one minute. Promise,
+promise, Hilda!"
+
+"Of course I promise; now run off."
+
+Judy went slowly away. She thought the grown people very unkind to
+dismiss her. She was interested in all people who were grown up; she had
+not a great deal of sympathy with children--she felt that she did not
+quite belong to them. The depths of her thoughts, the intense pathos of
+her unsatisfied affections were incomprehensible to most children. Hilda
+understood her perfectly, and even Aunt Marjorie and her father were
+more agreeable companions than Miss Mills and Babs.
+
+There was no help for it, however. Judy was a schoolroom child, and
+back to the schoolroom and to Miss Mills' dull society she must go.
+Swinging her hat on her arm she walked slowly down the long, cool stone
+passage which led from the principal hall to the schoolroom regions. A
+maidservant of the name of Susan hurried past her with the tray which
+contained the schoolroom tea in her hands.
+
+"You must be quick, Miss Judy, I am bringing in the tea," she said.
+
+Judy frowned. She did not think it at all necessary for Susan to remind
+her of her rather disagreeable duties. Instead of hurrying to the
+schoolroom she stood still and looked out of one of the windows. The
+words Miss Mills had uttered as they walked across the fields to the
+wood kept returning to her memory. In some curious, undefined,
+uncomfortable way she connected them with her sister Hilda. What did
+they mean? Why was it dreadful to be engaged to be married? Why were
+some people so fickle, and why were promises broken? Judy had never seen
+Miss Mills so excited before.
+
+"She looked quite interesting when she spoke in that voice," said Judy
+to herself. "What did she mean? what could she mean? She said it was
+dreadful to be married, and dreadful to be engaged. I think I'll go and
+ask Mrs. Sutton. I don't care if I am a bit late for tea. The worst
+Miss Mills will do is to give me some poetry to learn, and I like
+learning poetry. Yes, I'll go and see Mrs. Sutton. She was married
+twice, so she must have been engaged twice. She must know all--all about
+it. She's a much better judge than Miss Mills, who never was married at
+all."
+
+Judy opened a baize door, which shut behind her with a bang. She went
+down a few steps, and a moment later was standing in a comfortably
+furnished sitting room which belonged to the housekeeper, Mrs. Sutton.
+
+Mrs. Sutton was a stout, portly old lady. She had twinkling good-humored
+eyes, a mouth which smiled whenever she looked at a child, and a
+constant habit of putting her hand into her pocket and taking out a
+lollipop. This lollipop found its way straight into the receptive mouth
+of any small creature of the human race who came in her way.
+
+"Is that you, Miss Judy?" she said now, turning round and setting down
+her own cup of strong tea. "Come along, my pet, and give me a kiss. What
+do you say to this?" She held a pink sugar-stick between her finger and
+thumb. "I suppose you'll want another for Miss Babs, bless her!"
+
+"Yes, thank you, Sutton," replied Judy. "Will you lay them on the
+table, please, and I'll take them when I am going away. Sutton, I want
+to talk to you about a _very_ private matter."
+
+"Well, darling--bless your dear heart, your secrets are safe enough with
+me."
+
+"Oh, it isn't exactly a secret, Sutton--it is something I want to know.
+Is it a dreadful thing to be engaged to be married?"
+
+"Bless us and save us!" said Mrs. Sutton. She flopped down again on her
+seat, and her red face grew purple. "Are you quite well, Miss Judy? You
+haven't been reading naughty books now, that you shouldn't open? What
+could put such thoughts into the head of a little miss like you?"
+
+"Please answer me, Sutton, it is most important. Is it dreadful to be
+engaged to be married? and are people fickle? and are promises broken?"
+
+"But, my dear----"
+
+"Will you answer me, dear, kind Sutton?"
+
+"Well, Miss Judy, well--anything to please you, dearie--it all depends."
+
+"What does it depend on?"
+
+"Taken from the female point of view, it depends on the sort the young
+man is; but, my darling, it's many and many a long day before you need
+worrit yourself with such matters."
+
+"But I want to know," persisted Judy. "People do get married. You were
+married twice yourself, Sutton; you told me so once."
+
+"So I was dear, and both my wedding gowns are in a trunk upstairs. My
+first was a figured sateen, a buff-colored ground with red flowers
+thrown over it. My second was a gray poplin. I was supposed to do very
+well with my second marriage, Miss Judy."
+
+"Then you were twice engaged, and twice married," said Judy. "I don't
+want to hear about the wedding gowns, Sutton. I am rather in a hurry. I
+want you to tell me about the other things. What were they like--the
+being engaged, and the being married? Was the person fickle, and did he
+break his promise?"
+
+For some reason or other Mrs. Sutton's face became so deeply flushed
+that she looked quite angry.
+
+"I'll tell you what it is, Miss Judy," she said, "someone is putting
+thoughts into your head what oughtn't to do it. You are a motherless
+child, and there's someone filling your head with arrant nonsense. What
+do you know about engagements and--and disappointments, and dreams what
+proves but early mists of the morning? what do you know of fickleness
+and broken promises? There, child, you won't get any of that bad sort of
+knowledge out of me. Now you run away, dearie. There's someone been
+talking about what they oughtn't to, and you has no call to listen, my
+pet. There's some weddings happy, and there's some that aint, and that's
+all I can say. Run away now, Miss Judy."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+A QUESTION AND AN ANSWER.
+
+    When some belovèd voice that was to you
+    Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly,
+    And silence against which you dare not cry
+    Aches round you like a strong disease and new--
+    What hope? what help? what music will undo
+    That silence to your sense?
+
+                    --E. BARRETT BROWNING.
+
+
+Hilda Merton stood in a rather irresolute fashion in her bedroom.
+Several people were coming to dine at the Rectory to-night, and she, as
+the young mistress of the establishment, ought to be in the drawing room
+even now, waiting to receive her guests. The Rector was a very wealthy
+man, and all those luxuries surrounded Hilda which are the portion of
+those who are gently nurtured and well-born. Her maid had left the room,
+the young girl's simple white dress was arranged to perfection, her
+lovely hair was coiled becomingly around her shapely head. She was
+standing before her looking-glass, putting the final touches to her
+toilet.
+
+For some reason they took a long time to put. Hilda gazed into the
+reflection of her own pretty face as if she saw it not. Her brown eyes
+looked through the mirrored eyes in the glass with an almost abstracted
+expression. Suddenly a smile flitted across her face.
+
+"I'll do it," she exclaimed. "I'll wear his white rose. He may think
+what he pleases. I--I do love him with all my heart and soul."
+
+She blushed as she uttered these last words, and looked in a
+half-frightened way across the room, as if by chance someone might have
+overheard her.
+
+The next moment the white rose was snugly peeping out from among the
+coils of her rich hair. Her dress was fastened at the throat with a
+pearl brooch. She was in simple white from top to toe.
+
+"How late you are, Hilda," said Aunt Marjorie. "I was getting quite
+nervous. You know I hate to be alone in the drawing room when our
+visitors come; and really, my love, what a simple dress--nothing but a
+washing muslin. Did not you hear your father say that the Dean and Mrs.
+Sparks were coming to dinner to-night?"
+
+"Of course I did, Aunt Marjorie. The cook also knows that the Dean is
+coming to dine. Now don't fret, there's a dear. I look nice, don't I?
+that's the main thing."
+
+"Yes, Hilda, you look beautiful," said Aunt Marjorie solemnly; "but
+after all, when you have a new pink chiffon and--and----"
+
+"Hush, auntie dear, I see the Dean stepping out of his brougham."
+
+The other guests followed the Dean and Mrs. Sparks almost immediately.
+Dinner was announced, and the party withdrew to the dining room.
+
+Hilda, in her white dress with her happy sunshiny face, was the
+principal object of attraction at this dinner. There were two or three
+young men present, and they looked at her a good deal. Jasper Quentyns
+favored her with one quick glance; he was sitting at the far end of the
+table, and a very pretty girl was placed at his side. He saw the rose in
+Hilda's hair, and his heart beat quickly; his spirits rose several
+degrees, and he became so delightful and communicative to his neighbor
+that she thought him quite the pleasantest and handsomest man she had
+ever met.
+
+Quentyns did not glance again at Hilda. He was satisfied, for he felt
+pretty sure that a certain question which he meant to ask would be
+answered in the way he wished.
+
+The dinner came to an end, and the ladies withdrew into the drawing
+room. Two little figures in white dresses were waiting to receive them.
+Babs trotted everywhere, and was universally admired, petted, and
+praised. Judy stood in the shadow behind one of the curtains and watched
+Hilda.
+
+"Come out, Judy, and be sociable," said her sister.
+
+"I don't want to talk. I am so happy here, Hilda," she replied.
+
+"I do like spiders when they are very, very fat," sounded Babs' voice
+across the room.
+
+"Oh, you droll little creature!" exclaimed a lady who sat near; "why, I
+should fly from a spider any distance."
+
+"Perhaps you like earwigs better," said Babs.
+
+"Earwigs, they are horrors; oh, you quaint, quaint little soul."
+
+Babs did not care to be called a quaint little soul. She trotted across
+the room and stood by Judy's side.
+
+"There's nobody at all funny here," she said in a whisper. "I wish I had
+my Kitty Tiddliwinks to play with; I don't care for fine ladies."
+
+"It is time for you to go to bed, Babs," said Judy.
+
+"No, it isn't. I am not going before you go. You always talk as if I
+were a baby, and I aren't. Judy, you might tell me now what it is to be
+engaged to be married."
+
+"No, I can't tell you now," said Judy; "the gentlemen are coming in, and
+we mustn't talk and interrupt. If you won't go to bed you must stay
+quiet. You know if Aunt Marjorie sees you she'll send you off at once;
+now they are going to sing; ah, that'll be jolly. You stay quiet, Babs,
+and listen."
+
+Four young men surrounded the piano. Jasper Quentyns was one; Hilda
+played the accompaniment. The four voices did ample justice to the
+beautiful glee--"Men were deceivers ever." The well-known words were
+applauded vigorously, the applause rose to an encore. Judy listened as
+if fascinated.
+
+    "Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
+      Men were deceivers ever;
+    One foot in sea and one on shore,
+      To one thing constant never.
+        Then sigh not so,
+        But let them go ..."
+
+"Yes, that's the right thing to do," said Judy, turning round and fixing
+her bright eyes on Babs.
+
+"How funny you look," said Babs; "_you_ ought to go to bed."
+
+"Come, Barbara, what is this about?" said Aunt Marjorie's voice. "You
+up still--what can Miss Mills be thinking of? Now, little girls, it is
+nine o'clock, and you must both go away. Good-night, Babs dear;
+good-night, Judy."
+
+"Mayn't I say good-night to Hilda?" whispered Judy.
+
+"No, she's busy; run away this moment. Judy, if you question me I shall
+have to appeal to your father. Now, my loves, go."
+
+The little girls left the room, Babs complacently enough, Judy
+unwillingly. Babs was sleepy, and was very glad to lay her little head
+on her white pillow; but sleep was very far away from Judy's eyes.
+
+The little girls' bedroom was over a portion of the drawing room. They
+could hear the waves of the music and the light conversation and the gay
+laughter as they lay in their cots. The sounds soon mingled with Babs'
+dreams, but Judy felt more restless and less sleepy each moment.
+
+Miss Mills had entire care of the children. She dressed them and
+undressed them as well as taught them. She had left them now for the
+night. Miss Mills at this moment was writing an indignant letter in
+reply to the one which had so excited her feelings this morning. Her
+schoolroom was far away. Judy knew that she was safe. If she got out of
+bed, no one would hear her. In her little white night-dress she stole
+across the moonlit floor and crept up to the window. She softly
+unfastened the hasp and flung the window open. She could see down into
+the garden, and could almost hear the words spoken in the drawing room.
+Two figures had stepped out of the conservatory and side by side were
+walking across the silvered lawn.
+
+Judy's heart beat with great thumps--one of these people was her sister
+Hilda, the other was Jasper Quentyns. They walked side by side, keeping
+close to one another. Their movements were very slow, they were talking
+almost in whispers. Hilda's head only reached to Jasper's shoulder; he
+was bending down over her. Presently he took her hand. Judy felt as if
+she should scream.
+
+"He's a horrid, horrid, wicked man," she said under her breath; "he's a
+deceiver. 'Men were deceivers ever.' I know what he is. Oh, what shall I
+do? what shall I do? Oh, Hilda, oh, Hilda, darling, you shan't go
+through the misery of being engaged and then being married. Oh, oh, what
+shall I do to save you, Hilda?"
+
+Quentyns and Hilda were standing still. They had moved out of the line
+of light which streamed from the drawing room, and were standing under
+the shadow of a great beech tree. Judy felt that she could almost hear
+their words. From where she leant out of the window she could certainly
+see their actions. Quentyns stooped suddenly and kissed Hilda on her
+forehead; Hilda looked up at him and laid both her hands in his. He
+folded them in a firm pressure, and again stooping, kissed her twice.
+
+Upstairs in the nursery, misery was filling one little heart to the
+brim. A sob caught Judy's breath--she felt as if she should choke. She
+dared not look any more, but drawing down the blind, crept back into bed
+and covered her head with the bed-clothes.
+
+In the drawing room the guests stopped on, and never missed the two who
+had stolen away across the moonlit lawn. One girl, it is true, might
+have been noticed to cast some anxious glances toward the open window,
+and the companion who talked to her could not help observing that she
+scarcely replied to his remarks, and was not fully alive to his
+witticisms; but the rest of the little world jogged on its way merrily
+enough, unconscious of the Paradise which was so close to them in the
+Rectory garden, and of the Purgatory which one little soul was enduring
+upstairs.
+
+"Hilda," said Quentyns, when they had stood for some time under the
+beech tree, and had said many things each to the other, and felt a great
+deal more than could ever be put into words. "Hilda," said Quentyns, and
+all the poetry of the lovely summer evening seemed to have got into his
+eyes and filled his voice, "I give you all, remember, all that a man can
+give. I give you the love of my entire heart. My present is yours, my
+future is to be yours. I live for you, Hilda--I shall always live for
+you. Think what that means."
+
+"I can quite understand it," replied Hilda, "for I also live for you. I
+am yours, Jasper, for now and always."
+
+"And I am a very jealous man," said Quentyns. "When I give all, I like
+to get all."
+
+Hilda laughed.
+
+"How solemnly you speak," she said, stepping back a pace, and an almost
+imperceptible jar coming into her voice. Then she came close again. "The
+fault you will have to find with me is this, Jasper," she said, looking
+fully at him with her sweet eyes; "I shall love you, if anything, too
+well. No one can ever come between us, unless it is dear little Judy."
+
+"Judy! Don't you think you make too much fuss about that child? She is
+such a morbid little piece of humanity."
+
+"Not a bit of it. You don't quite understand her. She and I are much
+more than ordinary sisters to each other. I feel as if I were in a
+certain sense Judy's mother. When mother died she left Judy to me.
+Little darling! No one ever had a more faithful or a nobler heart. You
+must get fond of her too, for my sake; won't you, Jasper?"
+
+"I'll do anything for your sake, you know that, Hilda. But don't let us
+talk of Judy any more just now--let us----"
+
+"Mr. Quentyns, is that your voice I hear?" called Aunt Marjorie, from
+the drawing room. "And, Hilda, ought you to be out with the dew falling
+so heavily?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+CHANGES.
+
+    Sing on! we sing in the glorious weather
+      Till one steps over the tiny strand,
+    So narrow in sooth, that still together
+      On either brink we go hand in hand.
+
+    The beck grows wider, the hands must sever,
+      On either margin our songs all done;
+    We move apart, while she singeth ever,
+      Taking the course of the stooping sun.
+
+                    --JEAN INGELOW.
+
+
+About a week after Hilda Merton's engagement, just when her friends were
+full of the event, and congratulations began to pour in on all sides,
+there came a very unexpected blow to the inmates of the peaceful and
+pretty Rectory.
+
+The parish of Little Staunton was large and scattered; it stretched away
+at one side down to the sea, at another it communicated with great open
+moors and tracts of the outlying lands of the New Forest. It was but
+sparsely peopled, and those parishioners who lived in small cottages by
+the sea, and who earned their living as fishermen, were most of them
+very poor. Mr. Merton, however, was one of the ideal sort of rectors,
+who helped his flock with temporal as well as spiritual benefits. The
+stipend which he received from the church was not a large one, and every
+penny of it was devoted to the necessities of his poor parishioners.
+
+There came an awful morning, therefore, when a short announcement in the
+local paper, and a long letter from Mr. Merton's lawyer, acquainted him
+with the fact that the Downshire County Bank had stopped payment. In
+plain language, Mr. Merton, from being a wealthy man, became suddenly a
+very poor one.
+
+Aunt Marjorie cried when she heard the news; Hilda's face turned very
+pale, and Judy and Babs, who were both in the room at the time, felt
+that sort of wonder and perplexity which children do experience when
+they know something is dreadfully wrong, but cannot in the least
+understand what it is.
+
+In the course of the morning Hilda went to her father in his study.
+
+Her face was very white as she opened the door, some of the young soft
+lines of her early youth seemed to have left it; her beautiful brown
+eyes looked in a heavy sort of fashion out at the world from their dark
+surroundings. She came up to her father, and put her hand on his
+shoulder. He was bending over his desk, busily writing.
+
+"What is the matter, Hilda?" he asked, glancing up at her with a quick
+start, and an endeavor to make his voice sound as usual.
+
+"I--I have come, father, to say that if you like, I--I will give up my
+engagement to Jasper Quentyns."
+
+Mr. Merton rose from his seat and put his arm round her neck.
+
+"My dear child," he said, "it is my comfort to-day to know that you, at
+least, are provided for. Quentyns is fairly well off. If he will take
+you without any fortune, there is certainly no reason why you should not
+go to him."
+
+"Money can't make any difference to Jasper," said Hilda, just a little
+proudly, although her lips trembled; "but I--it seems wrong that I
+should be so happy when the rest of you are so miserable."
+
+"Tut, tut!" said the Rector. "I shall get over this in time. I own that
+just now the blow is so severe that I can scarcely quite realize it.
+When I opened my eyes this morning, I was pleasantly conscious that I
+was the possessor of a private income of quite two thousand a year; I
+felt this fact in the comforts that surrounded me, and the ease which
+filled my life. Except that small stipend which is represented by my
+living, and which I have always hitherto devoted to the poor of the
+flock, I am now reduced to nothing a year. My poor must divide my money
+with me in future, that is all; I don't intend to be miserable when I
+get accustomed to the change, Hilda. I must dismiss most of the
+servants, and give up the carriage and horses, and live as a poor man
+instead of a rich one; but I owe no man anything, my dear, and I have
+not the least doubt there is a certain zest in poverty which will make
+the new order of things agreeable enough when once I get used to it."
+
+The tears gathered slowly in Hilda's eyes.
+
+"I don't feel as if I could quite bear it," she said, with a sob.
+
+The Rector, who was always rather absent-minded, and had a dreamy way of
+looking far ahead even when he was most roused, scarcely noticed Hilda's
+tears. He talked on in a monotonous sort of voice:
+
+"I have not the least doubt that poverty has its alleviations. I have
+heard it more than once remarked that the hand-to-mouth existence is the
+most stimulating in the world. I should not be surprised, Hilda, if my
+sermons took a turn for the better after this visitation. I have
+preached to my flock, year in, year out, that the mysterious ways of
+Providence are undoubtedly the best--I have got to act up to my
+preaching now, that is all."
+
+The Rector sat down again and continued to write a very unbusiness-like
+letter to his lawyer; Hilda stood and looked at him with a frown between
+her brows, and then went slowly out of the room.
+
+Aunt Marjorie, who had cried herself nearly sick, and whose eyes between
+their swollen lids were scarcely visible, came to meet her as she walked
+across the hall.
+
+"Oh, my darling," she said, with a fresh sob, "how can I bear to look at
+you when I think of all your young life blighted in a moment! Oh, those
+wicked Bank Directors. They deserve hanging! yes, I should hang them one
+and all. And so you have been with my poor brother? I would not venture
+near him. How is he taking it, Hilda? Is he quite off his head, poor,
+dear man?"
+
+"How do you think my father would take a blow of this kind?" said Hilda.
+"Come into the drawing room, Auntie. Oh, Auntie dear, do try to stop
+crying. You don't know what father is. Of course I can't pretend to
+understand him, but he is quite noble--he is splendid; he makes me
+believe in religion. A man must be very, very good to talk as father
+has just done."
+
+"Poor Samuel!" said Aunt Marjorie. "I knew that he would take this blow
+either as a saint or as an idiot--I don't know which is the most trying.
+You see, Hilda, my love, your father has never had anything to do with
+the petty details of housekeeping. This parish brings in exactly three
+hundred and fifty pounds a year; how are we to pay the wages of nine
+servants, and how are the gardeners to be paid, and the little girls'
+governess, and--and how is this beautiful house to be kept up on a
+pittance of that sort? Oh, dear; oh, dear! Your father will just say to
+me, 'I know, Marjorie, that you will do your best,' and then he'll
+forget that there is such a thing as money; but I shall never be able to
+forget it, Hilda. Oh, dear; oh, dear! I do think saintly men are awful
+trials."
+
+"But you said just now you thought he would be off his head. You ought
+to be very thankful, Aunt Maggie, that he is taking things as he is. Of
+course the servants must go away, and the establishment must be put on
+an altogether new footing. You'll have to walk instead of ride in
+future, but I don't suppose Judy and Babs will much care, and I----"
+
+"Oh, yes," said Aunt Marjorie, "you will be in your new house in
+London, new-fangled with your position, and highly pleased and proud to
+put Mrs. before your name, and you'll forget all about us. Of course I
+am pleased for you, but you're just as bad as your father when you talk
+in that cool fashion about dismissing the servants, and when you expect
+an old lady like me to tramp all over the place on my feet."
+
+"I told father that if he wished I would break off my engagement."
+
+Aunt Marjorie dried her eyes when her niece made this speech, and looked
+at her fixedly.
+
+"I do think," she said, "that you're a greater fool even than poor
+Samuel. Is not your engagement to a nice, gentlemanly, clever man like
+Jasper Quentyns the one ray of brightness in this desolate day? You,
+child, at least are provided for."
+
+"I wonder if you think that I care about being provided for at this
+juncture?" answered Hilda, knitting her brows once again in angry
+perplexity.
+
+She went away to her own room, and sitting before her desk, wrote a long
+letter to her lover.
+
+Quentyns had been called to the Bar, and was already beginning to
+receive "briefs."
+
+His income was by no means large, however, and although he undoubtedly
+loved Hilda for her own sake, he might not have proposed an immediate
+marriage had he not believed that his pretty bride would not come to him
+penniless.
+
+Hilda sat with her pen in her hand, looking down at the blank sheet of
+paper.
+
+By the same post which had brought the lawyer's dreadful letter there
+had come two closely-written sheets from Jasper. He wanted Hilda to
+marry him in the autumn, and he had already begun house-hunting.
+
+"We might find it best to take a small flat for a year," he had written,
+"but if you would rather have a house, darling, say so. Some people
+don't approve of flats. They say they are not so wholesome. One misses
+the air of the staircase, and there is a certain monotony in living
+altogether on one floor which may not be quite conducive to health. On
+the other hand flats are compact, and one knows almost at a glance what
+one's expenses are likely to be. I have been consulting Rivers--you know
+how often I have talked to you of my friend Archie Rivers--and he thinks
+on the whole that a flat would be advisable; we avoid rates and taxes
+and all those sort of worries, and if we like to shut up house for a
+week, and run down to the Rectory, why there we are, you know; for the
+house-porter sees to our rooms, and we run no risk from burglars. But
+what do you say yourself, darling, for that is the main point?"
+
+Hilda had read this letter with a beating heart and a certain pleasant
+sense of exhilaration at breakfast that morning, but then this was
+before the blow came--before Aunt Marjorie's shriek had sounded through
+the room, and before Hilda had caught a glimpse of her father's face
+with the gray tint spreading all over it, before she had heard his
+tremulous words:
+
+"Yes, Marjorie! God help us! We are ruined."
+
+Hilda read the letter now with very different feelings; somehow or other
+all the rose light had gone out of it. She was a very inexperienced girl
+as far as money matters were concerned. Until to-day money seemed to
+have little part or lot in her life; it had never stirred her nature to
+its depths, it had kindly supplied her with necessities and luxuries; it
+had gilded everything, but she had never known where the gilt came from.
+When she engaged herself to Jasper, he told her that, for the present at
+least, he was a comparatively poor man; he had three hundred a year of
+his own. This he assured her was a mere bagatelle, but as he was almost
+certain to earn as much more in his profession, and as Hilda had money,
+he thought they might marry if she did not mind living very prudently.
+Of course Hilda did not mind--she knew nothing at all of the money part.
+The whole thing meant love and poetry to her, and she disliked the word
+money coming into it.
+
+To-day, however, things looked different. For the first time she got a
+glimpse of Tragedy. How mean of it, how horrible of it to come in this
+guise! She pressed her hand to her forehead, and wondered what her lover
+could mean when he talked of rates and taxes, and asked her to decide
+between a flat and a house.
+
+"I don't know what to say," she murmured to herself. "Perhaps we shall
+not be married at all at present. Perhaps Jasper will say we can't
+afford it. Perhaps I ought to answer his question about the flat--but I
+don't know what to say. I thought we might have had a cottage somewhere
+in one of the suburbs--with a little garden, and that I might have kept
+fowls, and have had heaps and heaps of flowers. Surely fowls would be
+economical, but I am sure I can't say. I really don't know anything
+whatever about the matter."
+
+"Why are you talking in that funny way half-aloud to yourself, Hilda?"
+asked a little voice with a sad inflection in it.
+
+Hilda slightly turned her head and saw that Judy had softly opened the
+door of her bedroom, and was standing in the entrance.
+
+Judy had an uncertain manner about her which was rather new to her
+character, and her face had a somewhat haggard look, unnatural and not
+pleasant to see in so young a child.
+
+"Oh, pet, is that you?" said Hilda. "Come and give me a kiss--I am just
+longing for you--you're the person of all others to consult. Come along
+and sit down by me. Now, now--you don't want to strangle me, do you?"
+
+For Judy had rushed upon her sister like a little whirlwind, her strong
+childish arms were flung with almost ferocious tightness round Hilda's
+neck, the skirt of her short frock had swept Jasper's letter to the
+floor, and even upset an ink-pot in its voluminous sweep.
+
+"Oh, oh!" said Hilda, "I must wipe up this mess. There, Judy, keep back
+for a moment; it will get upon the carpet, and spoil it if we are not as
+quick as possible. Hand me that sheet of blotting-paper, dear. There
+now, that is better--I have stopped the stream from descending too far.
+Why, Judith, my dear, you have tears in your eyes. You don't suppose I
+care about the ink being spilt when I get a hug like that from you."
+
+"I wasn't crying about the ink," said Judy; "what's ink! The tears came
+because I am so joyful."
+
+"You joyful? and to-day?" said Hilda. "You know what has happened, don't
+you, Judy?"
+
+"We are poor instead of rich," said Judy; "what's that? Oh, I am so
+happy--I am so awfully happy that I scarcely know what to do."
+
+"What a queer little soul you are! Now, now, am I to be swept up in
+another embrace?"
+
+"Oh, yes, let me, let me--I haven't kissed you like this since you,
+you--you got _engaged_."
+
+"In what a spiteful way you say that last word, Judy; now I come to
+think of it, we _have_ scarcely kissed each other since. But whose fault
+was that? Not mine, I am sure. I was quite hungry for one of your
+kisses, jewel, and now that I have got it I feel ever so much better.
+Sit down by me, and let us talk. Judy, you are a very wise little
+darling, aren't you?"
+
+"I don't know. If you think so, you darling, I suppose I am."
+
+"I do think so. I have had a letter from Jasper. I want to talk over
+something he says in it with you. Judy dear, he is such a noble fellow."
+
+Judy shut up her firm lips until they looked like a straight line across
+her face.
+
+"He's such a noble fellow," repeated Hilda. "I can't tell you how glad
+you ought to be to have the prospect of calling a man like Jasper your
+brother; he'll be a great help to you, Judy, by and by."
+
+"No, he won't--I don't want him to be," said Judy viciously.
+
+"Why, I declare, I do believe the dear is jealous; but now to go on.
+Jasper has written to me on a most important subject. Now, if I consult
+you about it you won't ever, ever tell, will you?"
+
+"No, of course I won't. Was it about that you were muttering to yourself
+when I came into the room?"
+
+"You funny puss; yes, I was talking the matter over to myself. Jasper is
+looking out for a house for us."
+
+"He isn't. It's awfully cheeky of him."
+
+"My dear Judy, it would be much more cheeky to ask me to go and live in
+the street with him. We must have some residence after we are
+married--mustn't we? Well, darling, now you must listen very
+attentively; he has asked me whether it would be best for us to live in
+a little house of our own----"
+
+"Why a little house? he ought to take you to a palace."
+
+"Don't interrupt; we shall be poor people, quite a poor couple, Jasper
+and I. Now, Judy, just try and get as wise as a Solon. He wants to know
+whether I would rather live in a little house or a flat."
+
+"What's a flat, Hilda?"
+
+"I don't quite know myself; but I believe a flat consists of several
+rooms on one floor shut away from the rest of the house by a separate
+hall door. Jasper rather approves of a flat, because he says there won't
+be any rates and taxes. It's very silly, but though I am a grown-up
+girl, I don't exactly know what rates and taxes are--do you?"
+
+"No, but I can ask Miss Mills."
+
+"I don't expect she'd know anything about them; it seems so stupid to
+have to write back and tell Jasper that I don't understand what he
+means."
+
+"Aunt Marjorie would know," said Judy.
+
+"I shouldn't like to consult her, pet. I think I'd better leave it to
+Jasper to decide."
+
+Judy looked very wise and interested now.
+
+"Why don't you say you'd rather go into a little house?" she said; "it
+sounds much more interesting. A flat is an ugly name, and I am quite
+sure it must be an ugly place."
+
+"That is true," said Hilda, pausing and looking straight before her
+with her pretty brows knit. "Oh, dear, oh, dear! I wonder what is right.
+And a little house might have a garden too, mightn't it, Judy?"
+
+"Of course, and a fowl-house and a cote for your pigeons."
+
+"To be sure; and when you come to see me, you should have a strip of
+garden to dig in all for yourself."
+
+"Oh, should I really come to see you, Hilda? Miss Mills said that you
+wouldn't want me--that you wouldn't be bothered with me."
+
+"That I wouldn't be bothered with you? Why, I shall wish to have you
+with me quite half the time. Now, now, am I to be strangled again?
+Please, Judy, abstain from embracing, and tell me whether we are to have
+a flat or a cottage."
+
+"Of course you are to have a cottage, with the garden and the
+fowl-house."
+
+"I declare I think I'll take your advice, you little dear. I'll write
+and tell Jasper that I'd much rather have a cottage. Now, who is that
+knocking at the door? Run, Judy, and see what's wanted."
+
+Judy returned in a moment with a telegram.
+
+Hilda tore it open with fingers that slightly trembled.
+
+"Oh, how joyful, how joyful!" she exclaimed.
+
+"What is it?" asked Judy.
+
+"Jasper is coming--my dear, dear Jasper. See what he says--'Have heard
+the bad news--my deepest sympathy--expect me this evening.' Then I
+needn't write after all. Judy, Judy, I agree with you; I feel quite
+happy, even though it is the dreadful day when the blow has been
+struck."
+
+Judy did not say anything, she rose languidly to her feet.
+
+"Where are you going?" asked Hilda.
+
+"For a walk."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Miss Mills said that even though we were poor I was to take the fresh
+air," replied the child in a prim little voice, out of which all the
+spirit had gone.
+
+She kissed Hilda, but no longer in a rapturous, tempestuous fashion, and
+walked soberly out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+IN A GARDEN.
+
+    I go like one in a dream, unbidden my feet know the way,
+    To that garden where love stood in blossom with the red and
+        white hawthorn of May.
+
+                    --MATHILDE BLIND.
+
+
+Aunt Marjorie had cried until she could cry no longer. Hers was a
+slighter nature than either Mr. Merton's or Hilda's. In consequence,
+perhaps, she was able to realize the blow which had come upon them more
+vividly and more quickly than either her brother or niece.
+
+Aunt Marjorie had taken a great pride in the pretty, well-ordered house.
+She was a capable, a kind, and a considerate mistress. Her servants
+worked well under her guidance. She was set in authority over them; they
+liked her rule, and acknowledged it with cheerful and willing service.
+
+No one could give such perfect little dinner-parties as Aunt Marjorie.
+She had a knack of finding out each of her guests' particular weaknesses
+with regard to the dinner-table. She was no diplomatist, and her
+conversation was considered prosy; but with Mr. Merton to act the
+perfect host and to lead the conversation into the newest intellectual
+channels, with Hilda to look sweet and gracious and beautiful, and with
+Aunt Marjorie to provide the dinner, nothing could have been a greater
+success than the little party which took place on an average once a week
+at the sociable Rectory.
+
+Now all these things were at an end. The servants must go; the large
+house--which had been added to from time to time by the Rector until it
+had lost all similitude to the ordinary small and cozy Rectory--the
+great house must remain either partly shut up or only half cleaned.
+There must be no more dinner-parties, and no nice carriage for Aunt
+Marjorie to return calls in. The vineries and conservatories must remain
+unheated during the winter; the gardeners must depart. Weeds must grow
+instead of flowers.
+
+Alack, and alas! Aunt Marjorie felt like a shipwrecked mariner, as she
+sat now in the lovely drawing room and looked out over the summer scene.
+
+With her mind's eye she was gazing at something totally different--she
+was seeing the beautiful place as it would look in six months' time; she
+saw with disgust the rank and obnoxious weeds, the empty grate, the
+dust-covered ornaments.
+
+"It is worse for us than it would be for ordinary people," she said half
+aloud. "If we were just ordinary people, we could leave here and go into
+a tiny cottage where our surroundings would be in keeping with our
+means; but of course the Rector must live in the Rectory--at least I
+suppose so. Dear, dear! how sudden this visitation has been--truly may
+it be said that 'all flesh is grass.'"
+
+Aunt Marjorie had a way of quoting sentences which did not at all apply
+to the occasion; these quotations always pleased her, however, and a
+slow smile now played round her lips.
+
+The drawing-room door was opened noisily, and a fat little figure rushed
+across the room and sprang into her arms.
+
+"Is that you, Babs?" she said. She cuddled the child in a close embrace,
+and kissed her smooth, cool cheek many times.
+
+"Yes, of course it's me," said Babs, in her matter-of-fact voice. "Your
+eyes are quite red, Auntie. Have you been crying?"
+
+"We have had dreadful trouble, my darling--poor Auntie feels very
+miserable--it is about father. Your dear father has lost all his money,
+my child."
+
+"Miss Mills told me that half an hour ago," said Babs; "that's why I
+wanted to see you, Auntie. I has got half a sovereign in the Savings
+Bank. I'll give it to father if he wants it."
+
+"You're a little darling," said Aunt Marjorie, kissing her again.
+
+"There's Judy going across the garden," said Babs. "Look at her, she has
+her shoulders hunched up to her ears. She's not a bit of good; she won't
+play with me nor nothing."
+
+"That child doesn't look at all well," said Aunt Marjorie.
+
+She started to her feet, putting Babs on the floor. A new anxiety and a
+new interest absorbed her mind.
+
+"Judy, Judy," she called; "come here, child. I have noticed for the last
+week," she said, speaking her thoughts aloud, "that Judy has black lines
+under her eyes, and a dragged sort of look about her. What can it mean?"
+
+"She cries such a lot," said Babs in her untroubled voice. "I hear her
+when she's in bed at night. I thought she had she-cups, but it wasn't,
+it was sobs."
+
+"_She-cups_--what do you mean, child? Judy, come here, darling."
+
+"She-cups," repeated Babs. "Some people call them he-cups; but I don't
+when a girl has them."
+
+Judy came slowly up to the window.
+
+"Where were you going, my pet?" asked Aunt Marjorie.
+
+"Only for a walk," she answered.
+
+"A walk all by yourself? How pale you are, dearie. Have you a headache?"
+
+"No, Auntie."
+
+Aunt Marjorie pulled Judy forward. She felt her forehead and looked at
+her tongue, and put her in such a position that she could gaze down into
+her throat.
+
+Not being able to detect anything the matter, she thought it best to
+scold her niece a little.
+
+"Little girls oughtn't to walk slowly and to be dismal," she said. "It
+is very wrong and ungrateful of them. They ought to run about and skip
+and laugh. Work while you work, and play while you play. That was the
+motto when I was a little girl. Now, Judy, love, go out with Babs and
+have a good romp. You had better both of you go to the hay-field, for it
+might distract your poor father to hear your two merry voices. Run, my
+dears, run; make yourselves scarce."
+
+"Come, Babs," said Judy. She held out her hand to her little sister,
+and the two went away together.
+
+"Do you know, Judy," said Babs, the moment they were out of Aunt
+Marjorie's hearing, "that I saw a quarter of an hour ago a great big
+spider in the garden catching a wasp. He rolled the poor wasp round and
+round with his web until he made him into a ball."
+
+"And did you leave that poor wasp to die?" asked Judy, keen interest and
+keen anger coming into her voice.
+
+"No, I didn't," said Babs. "I took him away from the spider. I wouldn't
+be kite so cruel as to let the poor thing die; but I s'pect he'll die
+all the same, for he can't get out of the ball that he's in."
+
+"Poor darling!" said Judy. "Let's go and find him and try to get the web
+off him. Do you know where he is, Babs?"
+
+"I put him on an ivy leaf on the ground," said Babs, "under the yew-tree
+down there. I can find him in a minute."
+
+"Well, let's go and save him as quickly as possible."
+
+The two children rushed with eagerness and vigor down the slops.
+
+Aunt Marjorie could see them as they disappeared out of sight.
+
+She turned to weep and bewail herself once more, and Judy and Babs
+began industriously to look for the wasp.
+
+They were busily engaged on their hands and knees searching all over the
+ground for the identical ivy leaf where Babs had placed the rescued
+insect, when a voice sounded in their ears, and Judy raised her head to
+see pretty Mildred Anstruther standing by her side.
+
+Mildred was one of the belles of the county; her hair was as bright as a
+sunbeam, her eyes as blue as a summer sky, her full lips were red, her
+cheeks had the bloom of the peach upon them. Mildred was a well-grown
+girl, with a largely and yet gracefully developed figure.
+
+In addition to her personal charms she had a considerable fortune. It
+went without saying, therefore, that she was greatly admired.
+
+Mildred had often been the talk of Little Staunton; her numerous
+flirtations had caused head-shakings and dismal croaks from many of the
+old maids of the neighborhood. The sterner sex had owned to
+heart-burnings in connection with her, for Mildred could flirt and
+receive any amount of attention without giving her heart in return. She
+was wont to laugh at love affairs, and had often told Hilda that the
+prince to whom alone she would give her affections was scarcely likely
+to appear.
+
+"The time when gods used to walk upon the earth is over, my dear Hilda,"
+she used to say. "When I find the perfect man, I will marry him, but not
+before."
+
+Mildred, who was twenty-six years of age, had therefore the youngest and
+smoothest of faces; care had never touched her life, and wrinkles were
+unlikely to visit her.
+
+For some reason, however, she looked careworn now, and Judy, with a
+child's quick perception, noticed it.
+
+She was fond of Mildred, and she put up her lips for a kiss.
+
+"What's the matter, Milly?" she asked; "have you a cold?"
+
+"No, my love; on principle I never allow myself to have anything so
+silly; but I am shocked, Judy--shocked at what I have read in the
+morning papers."
+
+"Oh, about our money," replied Judy in an unconcerned voice. "Have you
+found that wasp, Babs? Are you looking on _all_ the ivy leaves?"
+
+"I picked an ivy leaf, and put it down just here," replied Babs, "and I
+put the wasp in it most carefully; the wind must have caught it and
+blown it away."
+
+"Oh, dear; oh, dear! the poor creature, what will become of it?"
+answered Judy. She was down on her hands and knees again, poking and
+examining, but poking and examining in vain.
+
+"It's very rude of you, Judy, not to pay me the least attention," said
+Mildred. "I have come over on purpose to see you, and there you are
+squatting on the ground, pushing all that rubbish about. You have no
+manners, and I'll tell Hilda so; and, Babs, what are you about not to
+give me a hug?"
+
+[Illustration: "I HAVE COME ON PURPOSE TO SEE YOU, JUDY." P. 60.]
+
+Babs raised a somewhat grimy little face.
+
+"We can't find the poor wasp," she said. "He was rolled up in the
+spider's web, and I put him on an ivy leaf, and now he's gone."
+
+"You had better go on looking for him, Babs," said Judy, "and I'll talk
+to Milly." She rose as she spoke and placed her dirty little hand on
+Miss Anstruther's arm. "So you heard about our money, Milly?" she said.
+"Aunt Marjorie is in an awful state, she has cried and cried and cried;
+but the rest of us don't care."
+
+"You don't care? Oh, you queer, queer people! You don't mean to tell me,
+little Judy, that Hilda doesn't care?"
+
+"Hilda cares the least of all," replied Judy; "she has got Jasper."
+
+Judy's face clouded over as she spoke.
+
+"I wonder what _he'll_ say to this business," remarked Miss Anstruther,
+half to herself; "he's not at all well off--it ought to make a
+tremendous difference to him."
+
+"He certainly isn't to be pitied," said Judy; "he's going to get Hilda."
+
+"And what about Hilda's money?" laughed Miss Anstruther. Her face wore
+an expression which was almost disagreeable, her big blue eyes looked
+dark as they gazed at the child.
+
+Judy's own little face turned pale. She didn't understand Miss
+Anstruther, but something impelled her to say with great fierceness:
+
+"I hate Jasper!"
+
+Miss Anstruther stooped down and kissed her.
+
+"You are a queer, passionate little thing, Judy," she said, "but it's a
+very good thing for Hilda to be engaged to a nice sensible fellow like
+Jasper Quentyns, and of course it is more important now than ever for
+her. He'll be disappointed, of course, but I dare say they can get along
+somehow. Ah, there's Aunt Marjorie coming out of the house. I must run
+and speak to her, poor dear; how troubled she looks! and no wonder."
+
+Mildred ran off, and Judy stood where she had left her, in the center of
+the lawn, quivering all over.
+
+What did Milly mean by saying that Jasper would be disappointed--Jasper,
+who was going to get Hilda--Hilda herself? What could anyone want more
+than the sun? what could any man desire more than the queen of all
+queens, the rose of all roses?
+
+Thoughts like these flitted through little Judy's mind in confused
+fashion. Hilda was to be married to Jasper, and the Rectory of Little
+Staunton would know her no more. That indeed was a sorrow to make
+everyone turn sick and pale, but the loss of the money was not worth a
+moment's consideration.
+
+Judy wandered about, too restless and unhappy to settle to her play.
+Babs shouted in the distance that the wasp was not to be seen. Even the
+fate of the poor wasp scarcely interested Judy at present. She was
+watching for Mildred to reappear that she might join her in the avenue
+and ask why she dared to say those words about Jasper.
+
+"Well, Judy," said Miss Anstruther by and by, "here I am, back at last.
+I saw Aunt Marjorie, but I didn't see the Rector, and I didn't see
+Hilda. Aunt Marjorie tells me that Jasper Quentyns is coming down
+to-night, so I suppose he's going to take everything all right."
+
+"What do you mean, Milly?" asked Judy.
+
+"Why do you look at me in that fierce way, you small atom?" answered
+Mildred, stopping in her walk and looking at the child with an amused
+smile on her face.
+
+"Because I don't understand you," said Judy.
+
+"It is scarcely likely you should, my darling. Let me see, how old are
+you--nine? Well, you'll know something of what I mean when you're
+nineteen. Now I must go."
+
+"No, stop a bit, Milly. I don't understand you, but I hate hints. Miss
+Mills hints things sometimes, and oh, how I detest her when she does!
+and you're hinting now, and it is something against Hilda."
+
+"Against Hilda? Oh, good gracious, child, what an awful cram!"
+
+"It isn't a cram, it is true. I can't explain it, but I know you're
+hinting something against darling Hilda. Why should you say that Jasper
+will be disappointed? Isn't she going away with him some day? and aren't
+they going to live in--in a horrid--a horrid _flat_ together, and she
+won't even have a garden, nor fowls, nor flowers? And you say Jasper
+will be disappointed. Everything is going when Hilda goes, and you speak
+as if Jasper wasn't the very luckiest person in all the wide world. _I_
+know what it means; yes, I know. Oh, Milly, I'm so unhappy. Oh, Milly,
+what _shall_ I do when Hilda goes away?"
+
+Mildred was impulsive and kind-hearted, notwithstanding the very decided
+fit of jealousy which was now over her. She put her arm round Judy and
+tried to comfort her.
+
+"You poor little thing," she said, "you poor little jealous, miserable
+mite. How could you think you were going to keep your Hilda always?
+There, Judy, there, darling, I really am sorry for you--I really am, but
+you know Hilda is pretty and sweet, and someone wants her to make
+another home beautiful. There, I'll say something to comfort you--I'll
+eat all the words I have already uttered, and tell you emphatically from
+my heart of hearts that Hilda is too good for Jasper Quentyns."
+
+"Judy, Judy, Judy! I have found the wasp," shouted Babs.
+
+Judy dried her eyes hastily, kissed Mildred, and ran across the lawn to
+her little sister.
+
+"What a queer child Judy Merton is," said Mildred to herself. "What
+tempestuous little creatures some children are. How passionately she
+spoke about Hilda, and now her whole heart and soul are devoted to the
+rescuing of a miserable insect. Yes, of course Jasper is not good enough
+for Hilda. He has plenty of faults, he is not the prince I have been
+looking for, and yet--and yet----"
+
+Her heart beat quickly, the color rushed into her face, she felt her
+firm lips tremble, and knew that her eyes were shining with unusual
+brilliance. Someone was coming along the path to meet her. A man with
+the sunlight shining all over him--an athletic figure, who walked with
+the swift bounding step of youth. He was Jasper Quentyns.
+
+"Hullo!" he called, catching sight of her. "I was fortunate in getting
+an earlier train than I had hoped for, and here I am two hours before I
+was expected. How is Hilda? Have you been at the house? Are they all
+fearfully cut up?"
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Quentyns?" replied Mildred. "Yes, I have been at the
+house, and I have seen Judy and Aunt Marjorie. Judy seems to me to be in
+a very excitable and feverish state of mind."
+
+"She's rather spoilt, isn't she?" said Quentyns.
+
+"Oh, well, she's Hilda's special darling, the first in her heart by
+many degrees--after--after somebody else."
+
+"But how could a child like Judy know anything about money loss?"
+
+"It isn't the money that's troubling her at the present moment, it's a
+poor wasp. Now pray don't look so bewildered, and do try and forget
+about Judy. Aunt Marjorie is taking her trouble in a thoroughly
+practical and Aunt Marjorie style. I have not seen Hilda, nor have I
+seen the Rector."
+
+"It will be an awful blow to them all," said Quentyns.
+
+"Yes," replied Miss Anstruther, looking him straight in the eyes, "an
+awful blow. And you feel it far more than Hilda," she soliloquized, as
+she walked back to her own home.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE EVE OF THE WEDDING.
+
+    Where shall I find a white rose blowing?
+      Out in the garden where all sweets be.
+    But out in my garden the snow was snowing
+      And never a white rose opened for me,
+    Naught but snow and a wind were blowing
+      And snowing.
+
+                    --CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI.
+
+
+Notwithstanding Mildred Anstruther's inward prognostications, there came
+no hitch to Hilda Merton's engagement. Quentyns behaved as the best and
+most honorable of men. He was all that was tender and loving to Hilda,
+and he immediately took that position toward Mr. Merton which a son
+might have held. Quentyns was a good business man, and in the
+catastrophe which overwhelmed the Rectory, he proved himself invaluable.
+
+On one point, however, he was very firm. His marriage with Hilda must
+not be delayed. No persuasive speeches on her part, no longing looks out
+of Judy's hungry eyes, no murmurs on the part of Aunt Marjorie, would
+induce him to put off the time of the wedding by a single day.
+
+He used great tact in this matter, for Quentyns was the soul of tact,
+and it quite seemed to the family, and even to Hilda herself, that _she_
+had suggested the eighth of January as the most suitable day in the
+whole year for a wedding--it seemed to the whole family, and even to
+Hilda herself, that _she_ was the one who desired to go, whereas in her
+heart of hearts, in that innermost heart which she scarcely ventured to
+probe at all just now, she would have gladly shared Aunt Marjorie's
+discomforts and sat by her father's side while he composed those sermons
+which were to teach his flock, with a sure note of truth running through
+them, that the blessed man is the man whom the Lord God chasteneth.
+
+The wedding-day was fixed, and notwithstanding poverty and its attendant
+shadows, preparations for the great event went on merrily enough.
+
+A check for Hilda's trousseau was sent to her by a rich aunt in India,
+and the pleasant excitement which even the quietest wedding always
+causes began to pervade the Rectory.
+
+When the day was finally arranged, Aunt Marjorie ceased to murmur and
+cry. She talked a great deal now of Hilda's coming responsibilities, and
+spent all her leisure moments copying out receipts which she thought
+might be useful to her niece in her new position as wife and
+housekeeper.
+
+"You have never yet told me where you are going to live, Hilda," she
+said, on the New Year's Day which preceded the wedding.
+
+"I am not quite sure myself," replied Hilda. "Jasper has seen a great
+many suburban houses which he does not quite like, and a great many
+flats which he considers absolutely perfect. He says there is no special
+hurry about choosing a house, for after we have returned from our
+wedding tour we are to stay with some of his relations in town, and
+during that time we can make up our minds as to what kind of home we
+will have."
+
+"Very prudent of Jasper," said Aunt Marjorie. "He really is an excellent
+fellow--so wonderfully thoughtful for such a young man. Of course he has
+far too much sense to think of selecting a house for you himself. As to
+a flat, you will of course not dream of going into one--a house is
+better in all respects, more airy and more interesting."
+
+"I should like a house best," said Hilda, "but Jasper, of course, is the
+one really to decide."
+
+"Now, there you are wrong, my love. _You_ are undoubtedly the right
+person to make the final choice. I am old-fashioned in my ideas, Hilda,
+and I think the wife ought to be in subjection to her husband, for we
+have Scripture for it, but I don't believe St. Paul meant that rule to
+extend to domestic matters. In domestic matters the wife _ought_ to have
+the casting vote. Be sure, my dear Hilda, you don't yield to Jasper in
+domestic affairs--you will rue it if you do--and be quite sure that in
+selecting a house you have a wide entrance-hall, a spacious staircase,
+and a large drawing room."
+
+"But, Auntie, such a house will be beyond our means."
+
+"Tut, tut, my love--the rent _may_ be a few pounds more, but what of
+that? A large entrance-hall is really essential; and as it is easier to
+keep large rooms and wide staircases clean than small ones, your
+servants will have less to do and you will save the extra rent in that
+way. Now here is your great-grandmother's receipt for plum-pudding--two
+dozen eggs, three pounds raisins, one pound citron. Hilda, I
+particularly want to give you a hint about the _spice_ for this pudding;
+ah, and I must speak also about this white soup--it is simply made, and
+at the same time delicious--the stock from two fowls--one pint single
+cream--your father is particularly fond of it. Yes, Susan, what is the
+matter?"
+
+"A parcel for Miss Hilda, ma'am," said the neat parlor-maid. "It has
+come by 'Carter Patterson'; and will you put your name here, please,
+Miss Hilda."
+
+Hilda signed her name obediently, and a square wooden box was brought
+in. It was opened by Aunt Marjorie herself with great solemnity. Judy
+and Babs came and looked on, and there were great expressions of rapture
+when an exquisite afternoon tea-service of Crown Derby was exhibited to
+view.
+
+Wedding presents were pouring in from all quarters. Hilda put this one
+away with the others, and calmly continued her occupation of adding up
+some parochial accounts for her father. She was a very careful
+accountant, and had the makings in her of a good business woman when she
+had gained a little experience.
+
+Aunt Marjorie sat and mumbled little disjointed remarks with regard to
+her niece's future state and subjection. She gave her many hints as to
+when she was to yield to her husband and when she was to firmly uphold
+her own will.
+
+Had Hilda followed out Aunt Marjorie's precepts, or even been greatly
+influenced by them, she and Jasper would have had a very unhappy future,
+but she had a gentle and respectful way of listening to the old lady
+without taking in a great deal that she said. Her thoughts were divided
+now between Jasper and Judy. Her heart felt torn at the thought of
+leaving her little sister, and she had an instinctive feeling, which she
+had never yet put into words, that Judy and Jasper were antagonistic to
+each other, and, what is more, would always remain so.
+
+Judy had seen the Crown Derby service unpacked, and then, in the sober
+fashion which more or less characterized all her actions of late, she
+left the room.
+
+She went up to the bedroom which she and Babs shared together, and
+sitting down by the window, rested her chubby cheek against her hand.
+
+Babs was kneeling down in a distant corner, pulling a doll's bedstead to
+pieces for the express purpose of putting it together again.
+
+"My doll Lily has been very naughty to-day," she said, "and I am going
+to put her to bed. She wouldn't half say her lessons this morning, and
+she deserves to be well punished. What are you thinking of, Judy, and
+why do you pucker up your forehead? It makes you look so cross."
+
+"Never mind about my forehead. I have a lot of things to think of just
+now. I can't be always laughing and talking like you."
+
+Babs paused in the act of putting a sheet on her doll's bed to gaze at
+Judy with great intentness.
+
+"You might tell me what's the matter with you," she said, after a moment
+of silence; "you are not a bit interesting lately; you're always
+thinking and always frowning, unless at night when you are sobbing."
+
+"Oh, don't!" said Judy. "Don't you see what it is, Babs--can't you
+guess?--it is only a week off now."
+
+"What's only a week off?"
+
+"Hilda's wedding. Oh, dear; oh, dear! I wish I were dead; I do wish I
+were dead."
+
+Babs did not think this remark of poor Judy's worth replying to. She
+gravely finished making her doll's bed, tucked Lily up comfortably, and
+coming over to the window, knelt down, placed her elbows on the ledge,
+and looked out at the snowy landscape.
+
+"Hasn't Hilda got lots and lots of presents?" she said, after a pause.
+
+"Yes. I don't want to see them, though."
+
+"Everyone is giving her a present," continued Babs, in her calm voice,
+"even Miss Mills and the servants. Susan told me that the schoolchildren
+were collecting money to buy her something, and--may I tell you a
+'mendous big secret, Judy?"
+
+Judy ceased to frown, and looked at Babs with a faint dawning of
+interest in her eyes.
+
+"I has got a present for her too," said Babs, beginning to dance about.
+"I am not going to give it till the day of the wedding. I buyed it my
+own self, and it's _quite_ beautiful. What are you going to give her,
+Judy?"
+
+"Nothing. I haven't any money."
+
+"I have half a sovereign in the Savings Bank, but I can't take it out
+until after I am seven. I wish I could, for I could lend it to you to
+give Hilda a wedding present."
+
+"I wish you could," said Judy. "I'd like awfully to give her something.
+You might tell me what you have got, Babs."
+
+"It's some darning-cotton," said Babs in a whisper. "I buyed it last
+week with twopence-halfpenny; you remember the day I went with Mrs.
+Sutton to town. She said it was a very useful thing, for Hilda will want
+to mend Jasper's socks, and if she hasn't darning-cotton handy maybe
+he'll scold her."
+
+"He wouldn't dare to," said Judy, with a frown; "she _shan't_ mend his
+horrid socks. Why did you get such a nasty wedding present, Babs?"
+
+A flush of delicate color spread all over Babs' little fair face. She
+winked her blue eyes hard to keep back the tears which Judy's scathing
+remarks were bringing to the surface, and said, after a pause:
+
+"It's not a horrid present, it's lovely; and anyhow"--her voice becoming
+energetic as this happy mode of revenge occurred to her--"it is better
+than yours, for you has got nothing at all."
+
+"Oh, I'll have something when the day comes," replied Judy, in a
+would-be careless tone.
+
+"But you hasn't any money."
+
+"Money isn't everything. I'll manage, you'll see."
+
+From this moment Judy's whole heart and soul were absorbed in one fierce
+desire to give Hilda a present which should be better and sweeter and
+more full of love than anybody else's.
+
+After two or three days of anxious thought and nights of troubled
+dreams, she made up her mind what her present should be. It should
+consist of holly berries and ivy, and these holly berries and that ivy
+should be picked by Judy's own fingers, and should be made into a
+bouquet by Judy herself; and the very center of this bouquet should
+contain a love-note--a little twisted note, into which Judy would pour
+some of her soul. It should be given to Hilda at the very last moment
+when she was starting for church; and though she was all in white from
+top to toe--all in pure white, with a bouquet of white flowers in her
+hand--yet she should carry Judy's bouquet, with its thorns and its
+crimson berries, as a token of her little sister's faithful love.
+
+"She shall carry it to church with her," said Judy, with inward passion.
+"I'll make her promise beforehand, and I know she won't break her word
+to me. It will be a little bit of me she'll have with her, even when she
+is giving herself to that horrid Jasper."
+
+The little girl quite cheered up when this idea came to her. She became
+helpful and pleasant once more, and allowed Babs to chatter to her about
+the insect world, which had now practically gone to sleep; and about the
+delights of the time when their chrysalides, which they had put away so
+carefully in the butterfly-case, should burst out into living and
+beautiful things.
+
+The day before the wedding came, and the whole house was in pleasant
+bustle and confusion. Nearly all the presents had arrived by this time.
+The school children had come up to the Rectory in a body to present
+Hilda with a very large and gaudily decorated photographic album; the
+Rectory servants had given the bride-elect a cuckoo-clock; Miss Mills
+had blushed as she presented her with a birth-day book bound in white
+vellum; "Carter Patterson's" people were tired of coming up the avenue
+with box after box; and Aunt Marjorie was tired of counting on her
+fingers the names of the different friends who were sure to remember
+such an important event as Hilda Merton's wedding.
+
+But for Aunt Marjorie, Hilda would have given herself to Jasper in a
+very quiet and unobtrusive fashion. But this idea of a wedding was such
+intense grief to the old lady that Hilda and Jasper, rather against
+their wills, abandoned it, and Hilda was content to screen her lovely
+face behind a white veil, and to go to church decked as a bride should.
+
+"It is positively economical to get a proper wedding dress," said Aunt
+Marjorie; "you'll want it for the parties you'll go to during your first
+season in town, Hilda. Of course Lady Malvern, Jasper's aunt, will
+present you, and the dress with a little alteration will do very well to
+go to the Drawing Room in. I shall desire the dressmaker to make the
+train quite half a yard extra, on purpose."
+
+Aunt Marjorie had her way, and was sufficiently happy in her present
+life to forget the dull days which must follow, and to cease to think
+of the deserted house when Hilda, and wealth, and luxury, went away.
+
+It was the evening before the wedding-day, when Babs came solemnly into
+the room where her sister was sitting, and presented her with her
+wedding gift.
+
+"It's darning-cotton," said Babs, in her gentle, full, satisfied
+fashion. "Sutton said it would be useful, and that Jasper wouldn't scold
+you if you had it handy."
+
+"What treason are you talking, Babs?" asked Quentyns, who was standing
+by Hilda's side.
+
+He stooped down, and mounted her on his shoulder.
+
+"Sutton says that husbands always scold their wives," said Babs.
+
+"Nonsense, child! Sutton doesn't speak the truth. I would far rather
+scold myself than Hilda."
+
+"Well, at any rate here's the cotton. I spent all my money on it except
+the ten shillings in the Savings Bank; and, Hilda, you _will_ use it
+when Jasper's socks get into holes."
+
+"Of course I will, you dear little darling," said Hilda. "I think it is
+a perfectly sweet present. Give it to me; I was just packing my
+work-basket, and in it shall go this minute. I'll think of you every
+time I use a thread of this cotton, Babs."
+
+"Babs, Miss Mills says it is quite time for you to go to bed," said
+Judy, who was standing at the back of Hilda's chair, softly touching her
+bright head from time to time with the tips of her little fingers.
+
+Quentyns laughed when Judy spoke in her solemn voice.
+
+"And what about Judy's time for going to bed?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, I am much older than Babs, and Hilda said----"
+
+"Yes, Jasper; I said Judy should have a little talk with me all by
+myself to-night," said Hilda, putting back her hand and drawing her
+little sister forward. "Here's a tiny bit of my chair for you to sit
+upon, Judy dearest."
+
+"Then I'll take Babs upstairs," said Jasper. "Put your arms tightly
+round my neck, you quaint monkey, and I'll race up to your room with
+you."
+
+"Hilda," said Judy, the moment the door had closed behind the two, "I
+haven't given you my present yet."
+
+"My darling," said Hilda, "when we love as you and I love each other,
+presents mean nothing--nothing at all. I know you have no money,
+dearest little Judy and I think it was so sweet of you not to ask for
+any. Your present to me is your thoughtfulness; no gift could be
+sweeter."
+
+"Hilda, may I rest my head against your shoulder?"
+
+"Of course, darling. Now aren't we cozy?"
+
+"We are; I feel warm now, and--and happy. I won't be able to sit like
+this for a long time again."
+
+"Yes you will, for you're coming to stay with us; as soon as ever we get
+into our house, or our flat, or wherever we shall live, you are to come.
+One of the very first rooms I shall furnish will be your little bedroom,
+my Judy."
+
+"And then I can sit close to you every night. But oh, Hilda, _he'll_ be
+there, he won't like it."
+
+"Yes, he will; he'll like anything that I like. There is an old proverb
+that I must repeat for your benefit--'Love me, love my dog.' That means
+that those whom I love you ought to love."
+
+"Ought I? Very well, I'll try to love--Jasper. Anything that you say
+I'll try to do. Hilda, why does loving a person give pain? I have an
+ache in my heart--a big ache. There now, what a horrid girl I am! I am
+making your eyes fill with tears. You shan't be unhappy just when
+you're going to be made into a beautiful white bride. Sutton says it is
+unlucky for a bride to cry. You shan't cry, Hilda, you shan't--you
+mustn't."
+
+"But I can't help crying, Judy, when I think that you are unhappy, and
+when you speak of your love to me as a pain."
+
+"I'll never speak of it again. I'll be happy--I won't fret--no, I won't
+fret at all, and I won't cry even once," said the child, making a
+valiant effort to bring a smile to her face. "Hilda, will you promise me
+something very, very solemnly?"
+
+"If it is in my power I certainly will, my pet."
+
+"You have not got my wedding present yet, Hilda; but it is coming.
+Promise me----"
+
+"What, darling?"
+
+"Promise to take it to church with you to-morrow--I'll give it to you
+just before church--it will be full of me--my very heart will be in
+it--take it to church with you, Hilda, and hold it in your hand when
+you're giving yourself to Jasper--promise--promise."
+
+"How excited you are, my dearest! If it makes you really happy to know
+that I shall hold something of yours in my hand when I am being married,
+I will certainly do so."
+
+"Oh, it does make me happy, it does!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+A WEDDING PRESENT.
+
+    But my lover will not prize
+    All the glory that he rides in,
+      When he gazes in my face:
+    He will say: "O Love, thine eyes
+    Build the shrine my soul abides in,
+      And I kneel here for thy grace!"
+
+                    --E. BARRETT BROWNING.
+
+
+There was a holly tree not far from the church with berries so red and
+leaves so green and shining that it was generally denuded of its
+beauties to decorate the most important parts of the church.
+
+Judy knew this holly tree well. It had been much crippled in shape and
+color for the Christmas decorations, but one perfect branch had been
+left where the berries still grew in full rich clusters--this special
+branch had not been noticed by the gardener when he was cutting the
+holly for Christmas, and Judy determined that from it she would pick the
+crimson berries which were to constitute Hilda's wedding present.
+
+"Barnes," she said to the old gardener the day before, "you mustn't
+allow anyone to touch my bough of holly."
+
+"Well, Miss Judy, you're a queer child; what bough of holly do you
+mean?"
+
+"The bough on the round tree near the church. I want it most particular
+badly; you won't let anyone pick it--will you, Barnes?"
+
+"No, that I won't," said Barnes, good-naturedly; and Judy, quite
+satisfied and happy in her mind, ran away.
+
+On the wedding morning, just when the day broke, she got softly, very
+softly out of bed. Babs was having happy dreams at the moment, for
+smiles were flitting across her face and her lips were moving. Judy,
+heavy-eyed and pale, rose from her broken slumbers and proceeded to
+dress herself. She must go out now to fetch her holly bough. She could
+dress herself nicely; and putting on a warm jacket she ran downstairs
+and let herself out into the foggy, frosty air. She was warmly clad as
+to her head and throat, but she had not considered it necessary to put
+on her out-door boots. The boots took a long time to lace, and as she
+did not expect to be absent from the house more than ten or twelve
+minutes, she did not think it worth while to go to this trouble.
+
+She ran swiftly now, her heart beating with a certain pleasurable
+excitement. It was so nice to be able to make a beautiful, quaint
+wedding present out of the red berries and the glistening leaves and the
+little note full of love hiding away in their depths. How delighted
+Hilda would be by and by to open that note and to read some of Judy's
+innermost thoughts.
+
+"Even though she has Jasper, she loves me," thought the child. "She will
+know _something_ of what I think of her, the darling, when she has read
+my note."
+
+The little letter, written on a tiny pink sheet of paper, was put away
+all ready in Judy's drawer; she had but to cut the bough of holly and
+her unique wedding present would be almost ready. She reached the tree,
+having to go to it through long grass heavy with hoar frost. Her
+stockings and feet were already very wet, but she thought nothing of
+this fact in her excitement. She had a small knife in her pocket which
+she proceeded to take out in order to cut the bough away--it grew low
+down and she had to pull the grass aside to look for it.
+
+Alack, and alas! where was it, who had taken it? Had wicked, wicked
+Barnes been faithless? There was a torn gash on the trunk of the tree,
+and no long bough red with berries was anywhere to be seen.
+
+Poor little Judy could not help uttering a cry of anguish. Hot anger
+against Barnes swelled up in her heart. Miss Mills was in reality the
+culprit. Knowing nothing of Judy's desire, she had cut the bough late
+the night before for some window decoration.
+
+"I won't go back to the house until I get some holly," thought the
+child. She wiped away her fast-falling tears and set her sharp little
+wits to work. This was the most scarce time in the whole winter for
+holly berries, the greater number of them having been used for church
+and Christmas decorations; but Judy, whose keen eyes noticed Nature in
+all her aspects, suddenly remembered that on the borders of a lake
+nearly a mile away grew another holly tree--a small and unremarkable
+bush which might yet contain sufficient bright berries for her purpose.
+Without an instant's hesitation she determined to walk that mile and
+reach that tree. She must go quickly if she would be back before anyone
+noticed her. She was particularly anxious that her gift should not be
+seen in advance. Running, racing, and scrambling she effected her
+purpose, reached the tree, secured some berries and leaves, and returned
+to the house wet through and very tired.
+
+Babs was rubbing her eyes and stretching her limbs in her snug bed in
+the nursery when her sister came back.
+
+"Oh, Judy, what have you been doing?" she exclaimed, sitting up and
+staring in round-eyed astonishment.
+
+"Hush, Babs," said Judy, "don't speak for a moment--don't say a single
+word until I have locked the door."
+
+"But you oughtn't to lock the door. Miss Mills doesn't wish it."
+
+"I am going to disobey her."
+
+"But you'll be punished."
+
+"I don't care."
+
+The key was turned in the lock, and Judy, going over to Babs' bed,
+exhibited her spoils.
+
+"See," she said, "here's my wedding present."
+
+"Did you go to fetch those holly berries this morning?" asked Babs.
+
+"Yes, I did, and I had to go a long way for them too; that horrid,
+wicked old Barnes had cut away my bough, and I had to go all the way to
+the lake."
+
+"Your feet do look so sloppy and wet."
+
+"So they are, they are soaking; I forgot to put on my boots."
+
+"Oh, won't you catch an awful cold! won't Miss Mills be angry!"
+
+"Never mind; I'll change my stockings and shoes after I have arranged
+my present."
+
+"It's such a funny wedding present," said Babs. "Do you think Hilda will
+like it?"
+
+"She'll do more than like it: she'll love it. Don't talk to me any
+more--I'm too busy to answer you."
+
+Babs fidgeted and mumbled to herself. Judy stood with her back to her.
+She used her little fingers deftly--her taste as to arrangement and
+color was perfect. The sharp thorns pricked her poor little fingers, but
+she was rather glad than otherwise to suffer in Hilda's cause. The
+wedding present was complete, no sign of the note could be seen in the
+midst of the green leaves and crimson berries. Judy unlocked the door
+and tumbled back into bed. Miss Mills knew nothing of her escapade, for
+Babs was far too stanch to betray her.
+
+Just as Hilda in a cloud of white was stepping into the carriage to go
+to church that morning, a little figure, also in cloudy white with
+wide-open greeny-gray eyes, under which heavy dark marks were already
+visible, rushed up to her and thrust something into her hand.
+
+"Your--your wedding present, Hilda," gasped Judy. The strong colors of
+the red and green made almost a blot upon Hilda's fairness. Her father,
+who was accompanying her to church, interposed.
+
+"Stand back, my dear, stand back, Judy," he said. "Hilda, you had better
+leave those berries in the hall; you're surely not going to take them to
+church."
+
+"Your promise, Hilda, your faithful promise," said Judy in an imploring
+voice.
+
+Hilda looked at the child; she remembered her words of the night before,
+and holding the prickly little bunch firmly, said in a gentle voice:
+
+"I particularly want to take Judy's present to church with me, father."
+
+"As you like, my love, of course; but it is not at all in keeping with
+that lovely bouquet of hot-house white flowers sent to you by Lady
+Dellacoeur."
+
+"Then, if so, Lady Dellacoeur's flowers shall stay at home," said
+Hilda. She tossed the splendid bouquet on the hall table, and with
+Judy's holly berries in her hand, sprang into the carriage.
+
+"Isn't she a darling?" said Judy, turning with eyes that glowed in their
+happiness to Miss Mills.
+
+"A goose, I call her," muttered Miss Mills; but Judy neither heard nor
+heeded her words.
+
+The little church was nearly full of spectators, and one and all did
+not fail to remark Judy's wedding present. A bride in white from top to
+toe--a lovely bride in the tenderest bloom of youth, to carry a bouquet
+of strong dark green and crimson--had anything so incongruous ever been
+seen before? But Hilda held the flowers tightly, and Judy's hungry heart
+was satisfied.
+
+"Good-by, my darling," said Hilda to her little sister a couple of hours
+later; "good-by, Judy; my first letter shall be to you, and I will
+carefully keep your dear wedding present."
+
+"Hilda, Hilda, there's a little note inside of it, in the heart of it;
+you'll read it, won't you, and you won't show it to Jasper?"
+
+"If you wish me not, I won't, dearest. How hot your lips are, Judy, and
+how flushed your face."
+
+"I am just a wee bit shivery," said Judy, "but it's nothing, nothing at
+all. I'll promise you not to fret, Hilda. Good-by, dear, dear, darling
+Hilda."
+
+"Good-by, my sweetest little treasure, good-by."
+
+Hilda got into the carriage; her husband took his place by her side.
+Mildred Anstruther tossed a great shower of rice after them, Miss Mills
+and Babs hurled slippers down the avenue, Judy was nowhere to be seen.
+
+"Hilda," said Quentyns, as they were driving to the station, "why did
+you have such a very funny bouquet in church? You showed me Lady
+Dellacoeur's flowers last night. Why didn't you wear them, darling?
+Those harsh holly berries and leaves weren't in your usual taste."
+
+"But you're not angry with me for carrying that little bouquet, Jasper,
+are you?"
+
+"My darling, could I be angry with you for anything?"
+
+"The little bunch of holly was Judy's wedding present," said Hilda,
+tears dimming her eyes; "I promised her that I would wear them. Sweet
+little darling, my heart aches at leaving her."
+
+Quentyns took Hilda's hand and held it firmly within his own. He said
+some sympathetic words, for Hilda's slightest grief was grief to him,
+but in his heart he could not help murmuring:
+
+"That tiresome, morbid child. Poor darling Hilda, I must show her very
+gently and gradually how terribly she is spoiling Judy."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+HONEYMOON.
+
+    The night is in her hair
+      And giveth shade for shade,
+    And the pale moonlight on her forehead white
+      Like a spirit's hand is laid;
+    Her lips part with a smile
+      Instead of speakings done:
+    I ween, she thinketh of a voice,
+      Albeit uttering none.
+
+                    --MRS. BARRETT BROWNING.
+
+
+A month later Mrs. Quentyns was sitting in one of the largest hotels at
+Rome waiting for her husband to come in. The day was so balmy and genial
+that it was almost impossible for Hilda to believe that the time of year
+was early February. Dressed in dark-green velvet, with a creamy feather
+boa lying by her side, Hilda sat amidst all her unaccustomed
+surroundings, her eyes looking straight down the lofty room and her
+thoughts far away. The bride was thinking of her English home--she was
+an intensely happy bride--she loved her husband devotedly--she looked
+forward to a good and blessed life by his side, but still (and to her
+credit be it spoken) she could not forget old times. In the Rectory
+gardens now the crocuses and snowdrops were putting out their first
+dark-green leaves, and showing their tender petals to the faint winter
+sunshine. Judy and Babs, wrapped in furs from top to toe, were taking
+their afternoon walk--Babs was looking in vain for insect life in the
+hedges, and Judy was opening her big eyes wide to see the first green
+bud that ventured to put out its little tip to be greeted by the winter
+cold. Aunt Marjorie was learning to make use of her legs, and was
+glowing with warmth of body and vexation of spirit. The Rector was
+tranquilly writing a sermon which, notwithstanding its polished diction,
+should yet show the workings of a new spirit which would move his
+congregation on Sunday.
+
+Hilda seemed to see the whole picture--but her mind's eye rested longest
+on the figure of the tall, rather overgrown child, whose eyes always
+wore too hungry an expression for perfect happiness.
+
+"Little darling," murmured Hilda, "how I wish I had her with me
+here--she'd appreciate things so wonderfully. It is the greatest treat
+in the world to take Judy to see a really good picture--how her eyes
+shine in her dear face when she looks at it. My sweet little Judy,
+Jasper does not care for me to talk much to you, but I love you with all
+my heart and soul; it is the one drawback to my perfect happiness that I
+must be parted from you."
+
+Hilda rose as she spoke, and going over to a table on which her
+traveling-bag stood, opened it, pressed the spring on a certain lock,
+and taking out a little crumpled, stained letter, read the words written
+on it.
+
+    "My darling Hilda [wrote the poor little scribe], this is to say
+    that I love you better than anyone else in the world. I'll
+    always go on loving you best of all. Please take a thousand
+    million kisses, and never forget Judy.
+
+    "P. S.--I'll pray for you every day and every night. I hope you
+    will be very happy. I won't fret if you don't. This letter is
+    packed with love.
+
+                    "JUDY."
+
+A step was heard along the passage; Hilda folded up the letter, slipped
+it back into its hiding place, and ran down the long room to meet her
+husband.
+
+"Well, my darling," he exclaimed; "the English mail has just come in,
+and here's a budget for you."
+
+"And a budget for you too, Jasper. What a heap of letters!"
+
+"Yes, and one of them is from Rivers. He rather wants me in London:
+there's a good case coming on at the Law Courts; he says I shall be
+counsel for it if I'm in town. What do you say to coming back to London
+on Saturday, Hilda?"
+
+"You know I shall be only too delighted; I am just pining to be home
+again. Do you think we could go down to the Rectory? I should so like to
+spend Sunday there."
+
+"My darling, what are you thinking of? I want to be in London, not in
+Hampshire. Now that I have got you, sweetheart, I must neglect no chance
+of work."
+
+Hilda's face turned slightly pale.
+
+"Of course, darling," she said, looking up sweetly at her tall husband;
+"but where are we to go on Saturday night? You spoke of going home."
+
+"And so we are going home, my love--or rather we are going toward home;
+but as we have not taken a house yet, we must spend a week with the
+Malverns when first we get to England. I will send a line to my aunt,
+and tell her to expect us on Saturday."
+
+Hilda said nothing more. She smothered the ghost of a sigh, and sitting
+down by the wood fire, which, notwithstanding the genial weather, was
+acceptable enough in their lofty room, began to open her letters. The
+Rectory budget was of course first attended to. It contained several
+inclosures--one from her father, which was short and principally
+occupied over a review of the last new theological book he had been
+reading, one from Aunt Marjorie, and one from Miss Mills.
+
+"None from Judy," said Hilda, in a voice of surprise; "she has only
+written to me once since we were married."
+
+She spoke aloud, and looked up at her husband for sympathy. He was
+reading a letter of his own, and its contents seemed to amuse him, for
+he broke into a hearty laugh.
+
+"What is it, Jasper?" asked Hilda. "What is amusing you?"
+
+"Something Rivers has said, my love. I'll tell you presently. Capital
+fellow he is; if I get this brief I shall be in tremendous luck."
+
+Hilda opened Aunt Marjorie's letter and began to read. The old lady was
+a somewhat rambling correspondent. Her letters were always closely
+written and voluminous. Hilda had to strain her young eyes to decipher
+all the sentences.
+
+    "I must say I dislike poverty [wrote Aunt Marjorie]; you are
+    well out of it, Hilda. It is my private conviction that your
+    father has absolutely forgotten that his income has jumped down
+    in a single day from three thousand three hundred and fifty
+    pounds a year to the three hundred and fifty without the odd
+    thousands; he goes on just as he has always done, and is
+    perfectly happy. Dean Sharp sent him his last book a week ago,
+    and he has done nothing but read it and talk of it ever
+    since--his conversation in consequence is most tiresome. I miss
+    you awfully, my love. I never could stand theology, even when I
+    was surrounded by comforts, and now when I have to stint the
+    fires and suffer from cold feet, you may imagine how unpleasant
+    it is to me. My dear Hilda, I am afraid I shall not be able to
+    keep Miss Mills, she seems to get sillier every day; it is my
+    private conviction that she has a love affair on, but she's as
+    mum as possible about it. Poor Sutton cried in a most
+    heartrending way when she left; she said when leaving, 'I'll
+    never get another mistress like you, ma'am, for you never
+    interfere, even to the clearing of the jellies.' I am glad she
+    appreciates me, I didn't think she did while she was living with
+    us. The new cook can't attempt anything in the way of soup, so
+    I have given it up for dinner; but your father never appears to
+    miss it. The garden is looking horrible, so many weeds about.
+    The Anstruthers have all gone up to London--taken a house for
+    the season at an enormous price. How those people do squander
+    money; may they never know what it is for it to take to itself
+    wings!
+
+    "By the way, Judy has not been well; she caught cold or
+    something the day of your wedding, and was laid up with a nasty
+    little feverish attack and cough. We had to send for Dr. Harvey,
+    who said she had a chill, and was a good deal run down. She's up
+    again now, but looks like a ghost with her big eyes. She
+    certainly is a most peculiar child--I don't pretend to
+    understand her. She crept into the room a minute ago, and I told
+    her I was writing to you, and asked her if she had any message.
+    She got pink all over just as if she were going to cry, and then
+    said:
+
+    "'Tell Hilda that I am not fretting a bit, that I am as happy as
+    possible. Give her my dear love and heaps of kisses' (my dear
+    Hilda, you must take them for granted, for I am not going to put
+    crosses all over the letter).
+
+    "Then she ran out of the room as if she had nothing further to
+    say--really a most queer child. Babs is a little treasure and
+    the comfort of my life.
+
+                    "Your affectionate old Aunt,
+                          "MARJORIE."
+
+"Jasper!" said Hilda, in a choked sort of voice. "Jasper!"
+
+"What is it, my darling? Why, how queer you look, your face is quite
+white!"
+
+"It is about Judy; she's not well!" said Hilda. "I ought to go to her, I
+ought not to delay. Couldn't we catch the night mail?"
+
+"Good gracious!" said Quentyns, alarmed by Hilda's manner. "What is
+wrong with the child? If it is anything infectious----"
+
+"No, no, it is nothing of that sort; but in any case, whatever it is, I
+ought to go to her--I ought not to delay. May I telegraph to say we are
+starting at once?"
+
+"My darling, how excitable you are! What can be wrong with the child?"
+
+"Oh, Jasper, you don't understand--Aunt Marjorie says----Here, read
+this bit."
+
+"I can't read that crabbed, crossed writing, Hilda."
+
+"Well, I'll read it aloud to you; see where it begins--'Judy has not
+been well----'"
+
+Hilda read the whole passage, a lump in her throat almost choking her
+voice. When she had finished, Quentyns put his arms round her and drew
+her to his heart.
+
+"Why, you poor little, foolish, nervous creature," he said, "there's
+nothing wrong with Judy now; she was ill, but she's much better. My
+darling Hilda--my love, you must really not disturb yourself about a
+trifling mishap of this sort."
+
+"It isn't a trifle, Jasper. Oh, I know Judy--I know how she looks and
+what she feels. Oh, do, do let me go back to her, darling."
+
+"You read that letter in such a perturbed sort of voice that I can
+scarcely follow its meanings," said Quentyns. "Here, give it to me, and
+let me see for myself what it is all about. Why will old ladies write
+such villainous hands? Where does the passage begin, Hilda? Sit down,
+darling, quiet yourself. Now let me see, here it is--'Judy has not been
+well----'"
+
+Hilda's hands had shaken with nervousness while she read her aunt's
+letter aloud, but Quentyns held the sheet of thin paper steadily. As the
+sentences fell from his lips, his full tones seemed to put new meaning
+into them--the ghostly terrors died out of Hilda's heart. When her
+husband laid down the sheet of paper, and turned to her with a
+triumphant smile, she could not help smiling back at him in return.
+
+"There," he said, "did not I tell you there was nothing wrong with Judy
+now? What a little goose you are!"
+
+"I suppose I am; and if you really, really think--if you are quite sure
+that she's all right----"
+
+"Of course, I am absolutely certain; doesn't Aunt Marjorie say so? The
+fact is, Hilda, you make too great a fuss about that little sister of
+yours--I feel almost jealous of her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+STARVED.
+
+    If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
+    And be all to me? Shall I never miss
+    Home-talk and blessing and the common kiss?
+
+                    --E. BARRETT BROWNING.
+
+
+In the first pleasant spring-time of that same year, Mrs. Anstruther, a
+very gay and fashionable-looking woman of between forty and fifty years
+of age, turned on a certain morning to her daughter and made a remark:
+
+"Don't forget that we must pay some calls this afternoon, Mildred."
+
+Mildred was standing by the window of their beautiful drawing room. The
+window-boxes had just been filled with lovely spring flowers; she was
+bending over them and with deft fingers arranging the blossoms and
+making certain small alterations, which had the effect of grouping the
+different masses of color more artistically than the gardener had done.
+
+"Yes, mother," she said, half turning her handsome head and glancing
+back at her parent. "We are to make calls. I am quite agreeable."
+
+"I wish you would take an interest, Mildred; it is so unpleasant going
+about with people who are only just 'quite agreeable.' Now, when I was a
+young girl----"
+
+"Oh, please, mother, don't! The times have completely changed since you
+were young; enthusiasm has gone out of fashion. I am nothing if I am not
+fashionable! Of course, if calls have to be made, I shall make them.
+I'll put on my most becoming bonnet, and my prettiest costume, and I'll
+sit in the carriage by your side, and enter the houses of those friends
+who happen to be at home, and I'll smile and look agreeable, and people
+will say, 'What an amiable woman Miss Anstruther is!' I'll do the
+correct thing of _course_, only I suppose it is not necessary for my
+heart to go pitter-patter over it. By the way, have you made out a list
+of the unfortunates who are to be victimized by our presence this
+afternoon?"
+
+Mrs. Anstruther sighed, and gazed in some discontent at her daughter.
+
+"It is so disagreeable not to understand people," she said. "I don't
+profess to understand you, Mildred. If you will give me my visiting-book
+I can soon tell you the places where we ought to go. And oh, by the way,
+should we not call on Hilda Quentyns? she has taken a house somewhere in
+West Kensington."
+
+"You don't mean to tell me that the Quentyns are in town?" said
+Mildred, turning sharply round and gazing at her mother.
+
+"Of course; they have been in London for some time. I met Lady Malvern
+yesterday, and she gave me Hilda's address. She seems to have gone to
+live in a very poky place. See, I have entered the name in my
+address-book--10, Philippa Road, West Kensington."
+
+"Then of course we'll go to her--that will be _really_ nice," said
+Mildred with enthusiasm. "We might go to Hilda first and spend some
+little time with her."
+
+"But Mrs. Milward's 'at home' begins quite early. I should not like to
+miss that."
+
+"Who cares for Mrs. Milward! Look here, mother, suppose _you_ pay the
+calls and let me go and see Hilda. I have a good deal I want to talk
+over with her; for one thing, I want to say something about Judy."
+
+"Poor, queer little Judy," said Mrs. Anstruther with a laugh. "What can
+you possibly have to say about her?"
+
+"I don't think Judy is at all well," said Mildred. "There is such a
+thing as dying of heart-hunger. If ever a child suffered from that
+old-fashioned complaint, it is that poor mite at Little Staunton
+Rectory."
+
+"My dear Mildred, you get more absurd every day. Judy lives in a most
+comfortable home, for notwithstanding their poverty, old Aunt Marjorie
+manages to keep everything going in really respectable style. The child
+has a loving father, a devoted aunt, a dear little sister, and an
+excellent governess, and you talk of her dying of heart-hunger! It is
+absurd."
+
+"Nevertheless," said Mildred,--she stopped abruptly, her bright eyes
+looked across the room and out through the open window,--"nevertheless,"
+she said, giving her foot an impatient tap, "I should like to see Hilda.
+I should like to have a long talk with her. I have heard nothing about
+her since her wedding, so by your leave, mother, I'll drive over to West
+Kensington immediately after lunch and send the victoria back for you."
+
+Mrs. Anstruther, who was always more or less like wax in the hands of
+her strong-minded daughter, was obliged somewhat unwillingly to submit
+to this arrangement; and Mildred, charmingly dressed and looking young
+and lovely, was bowled rapidly away in the direction of Hilda Quentyns'
+humble home soon after two o'clock.
+
+"It will be pleasant to take the poor old dear by surprise," said
+Mildred to herself. "There was a time when I felt jealous of her good
+fortune in having secured Jasper Quentyns, but, thank goodness, I have
+quite got over the assaults of the green-eyed monster now. Ah, here we
+are. What a queer little street!--what frightfully new and yet
+picturesque houses! They look like dove-cotes. I wonder if this pair of
+turtle-doves coo in their nest all day long."
+
+The footman jumped down and rang the doorbell. In a moment a
+neatly-dressed but very young looking servant stood in the open doorway.
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Quentyns was at home," she said, and Mildred entered Hilda's
+pretty house.
+
+She went into the drawing room, and stood somewhat impatiently waiting
+for her hostess to appear. The little room was furnished with an eye to
+artistic effect, the walls were decorated with good taste. The furniture
+was new, as well as pretty. One beautiful photogravure from Burne Jones'
+"Wheel of Fortune" was hung over the mantelpiece. Hilda and Quentyns,
+faithfully represented by an Italian photographer, stood side by side in
+a little frame on one of the brackets. Mildred felt herself drawing one
+or two heavy sighs.
+
+"I don't know what there is about this little room, but I like it," she
+murmured; "nay, more, I love it. I can fancy good people inhabiting it.
+I am quite certain that Love has not yet flown out of the window. I am
+quite sure, too, of another thing, that even if Poverty does come in at
+this door, Love will remain. Oh, silly Hilda, what have you to do with
+the 'Wheel of Fortune'? your position is assured; you dwell safely
+enthroned in the heart of a good man. Oh, happy Hilda!"
+
+The door was opened, and Hilda Quentyns smiling, with roses on her
+cheeks and words of delighted welcome on her lips, rushed into the room.
+
+"How sweet of you to call, Mildred," she exclaimed. "I was just
+wondering if you would take any notice of me."
+
+"You dear creature," said Mildred, kissing Hilda and patting her on the
+shoulder. "Two hours ago I heard for the first time that you were in
+London. I ate my lunch and ordered the victoria, and put on my prettiest
+bonnet and drove over to see you as fast as ever the horses would bring
+me. I could not well pay my respects to Mrs. Quentyns in a shorter
+time."
+
+"I am very glad to see you," said Hilda.
+
+"How childish you look," replied Mildred, gazing at her in a rather
+dissatisfied way; "you have no responsibilities at all now, your Jasper
+takes the weight of everything, and you live in perpetual sunshine. Is
+the state of bliss as blissful as we have always been led to imagine,
+Hilda, or are the fairy tales untrue, and does the prince only exist in
+one's imagination?"
+
+"Oh, no, he is real, quite real," said Hilda. "I am as happy as it is
+possible for a human being to be. Jasper--but I won't talk of him--you
+know what I really think of him. Now let me show you my house. Isn't it
+a sweet little home? Wasn't it good of Jasper to come here? He wanted a
+flat, but when he saw that my heart was set on a little house, he took
+this. Don't you like our taste in furniture, Milly? Oh, Milly dear, I
+_am_ glad to see you. It is nice to look at one of the dear home-faces
+again."
+
+"Come and show me your house," said Mildred; "I am going to stay a long
+time--all the afternoon, if possible."
+
+"I am more than glad; you must remain to dinner. I will telegraph to
+Jasper to come home early."
+
+"I don't mind if I do," said Mildred. "I have no very special
+engagements for this evening, and even if I had I should be disposed to
+break them. It is not often one gets the chance of spending an hour in a
+nest with two turtle-doves."
+
+"Come, come," said Hilda, "that sounds as if you were laughing at us.
+Now you shall see the house, and then we'll have tea together, and you
+must tell me all about the old place."
+
+The turtle-doves' nest was a very minute abode. There was only one
+story, and the bed-rooms in consequence were small and few.
+
+"Aren't we delightfully economical?" said Hilda, throwing open the door
+of her own room. "Is not this wee chamber the perfection of snugness?
+and this is Jasper's dressing room, and here is such a dear little
+bath-room; and this is the spare-room (we have not furnished it yet, but
+Jasper says we can't afford to have many visitors, so I'm not making any
+special haste). And this is our servants'-room; I did not think when we
+lived at Little Staunton that two servants could fit into such a tiny
+closet, but these London girls seem quite to like it. Now, Mildred, come
+downstairs. You have looked over this thimbleful of a house, and I hope
+it has pleased you. Come downstairs and let us talk. I am starving for
+news."
+
+"Well, my dear, begin catechising to your heart's content," said
+Mildred. She threw herself back into the easiest of the easy-chairs as
+she spoke, and toasted her feet before Hilda's cheerful fire. "What do
+you want to know first, Mrs. Quentyns?"
+
+"How long is it since you left home--when did you see them all?"
+
+"I was at home a fortnight ago, and I spent the greater part of one
+afternoon at the Rectory."
+
+"Oh, did you? Is it awfully changed?"
+
+"No; the house is _in statu quo_. It looks just as handsome and stately
+and unconcerned as of old. Aunt Marjorie says it is full of dust, but I
+did not notice any. Aunt Marjorie has got quite a new wrinkle between
+her brows, and she complains a great deal of the young cook, but my
+private opinion is that that unfortunate cook is your aunt's salvation,
+for she gives her something else to think of besides the one perpetual
+grievance."
+
+"Oh, yes, yes," said Hilda, a little impatiently, "poor dear Aunt
+Maggie; and what about the others? How is my father?"
+
+"He looks thin, and his hair is decidedly silvered; but his eyes just
+beamed at me with kindness. He never spoke once about the change in his
+circumstances, and on Sunday he preached a sermon which set me crying."
+
+"Dear Mildred, I think father's sermons were always beautiful. How I
+should like to hear him once again!"
+
+"So you will, of course, very soon; they're all expecting you down. Why
+don't you go?"
+
+The faintest shadow of a cloud flitted across Hilda's face.
+
+"Jasper is so busy," she said.
+
+"Well, go without him. I am quite convinced you would do them a sight of
+good."
+
+"Jasper does not like me to leave him," said Hilda; "we both intend to
+run down to the Rectory for a flying visit soon, but he is so busy just
+at present that he cannot fix a day. Go on, Milly, tell me about the
+others. What of Babs?"
+
+"I saw her squatting down on the middle of the floor with a blind kitten
+just three days old in her lap. The kitten squalled frightfully, and
+Babs kept on calling it 'poor, _pretty_ darling.' I thought badly of the
+kitten's future prospects, but well of its nurse's; she looked
+particularly flourishing."
+
+"And Judy?" said Hilda, "she wasn't well a little time ago, but Aunt
+Marjorie has said nothing about her health lately. Has she quite, quite
+recovered? Did she look ill? Did you see much of her?"
+
+"She was sitting in the ingle-nook, reading a book."
+
+"Reading a book!" said Hilda; "but Judy does not like reading. Was the
+day wet when you called at the Rectory?"
+
+"No; the sun was shining all the time."
+
+"Why wasn't she out scampering and running all the time, and hunting for
+grubs?"
+
+"She had a cough, not much, just a little hack, and Aunt Marjorie
+thought she had better stay indoors."
+
+"Then she is _not_ quite well!"
+
+"Aunt Marjorie says she is, and that the hack is nothing at all. By the
+way, Hilda, if your husband won't spare you to go down to the Rectory,
+why don't you have that child here on a visit? Nothing in the world
+would do her so much good as a sight of your face."
+
+"Oh, I know, I know; my little Judy, my treasure! But the spare-room is
+not ready, and Jasper is so prudent, he won't go in debt for even a
+shilling's-worth. He has spent all his available money on the house
+furnishing, and says the spare-room must wait for a month or so. As soon
+as ever it is furnished, Judy is to be the first guest."
+
+"Can't you hire a little bedstead of some sort?" said Mildred, "and put
+it up in that room, and send for the child. What does Judy care about
+furnished rooms!"
+
+"You think she looks really ill, do you, Mildred?"
+
+"I will be candid with you, Hilda. I did not like her look--she suffers.
+It is sad to read suffering in a child's eyes. When I got a peep into
+Judy's eyes I could see that her soul was drooping for want of
+nourishment. She is without that particular thing which is essential to
+her."
+
+"And what is that?"
+
+"Your love. Do send for her, Hilda. Never mind whether the spare-room is
+furnished or not."
+
+Hilda sat and fidgeted with her gold chain. Her face, which had been
+full of smiles and dimples, was now pale with emotion, her eyes were
+full of trouble.
+
+"Why are you so irresolute?" asked Mildred impatiently.
+
+"Oh, I--I don't know. I am not quite my own mistress. I--I must think."
+
+The servant entered the room with a letter on a little salver. Hilda
+took it up.
+
+"Why, this is from Judy," she exclaimed. "Perhaps she's much better
+already. Do you mind my reading it, Mildred?"
+
+"Read it, certainly. I shall like to know how the dear queer mite is
+getting on."
+
+Hilda opened her letter, and, taking out a tiny pink sheet, read a few
+words written on it.
+
+    "MY DEAR HILDA:
+
+    "I am writing you a little letter. I hope you are quite well. I
+    don't fret, and I hope you don't. I think of you and never
+    forget you. I give you a kiss for now and for to-night, and for
+    every other night, and a million, thousand kisses for always.
+
+                    "Your loving
+                          "JUDY."
+
+    "Here are my kisses."
+
+A whole lot of crosses and round o's followed.
+
+    "Here is my tex for us both. 'The Lord wach between me and
+    thee.'
+
+                    "JUDY."
+
+Hilda's eyes filled with sudden tears.
+
+"There is something else in the envelope," she exclaimed. "I think a
+scrawl from Aunt Marjorie. I had a volume from her yesterday. I wonder
+what she wants to write about again."
+
+    "MY DARLING HILDA:
+
+    "Now don't be frightened, my dear, but I have something to tell
+    you which I think you ought to know. Our dear little Judy
+    fainted in a rather alarming way in church yesterday. Of course
+    we sent for the doctor, and he says she is very weak, and must
+    stay in bed for a day or two. He says we need not be alarmed,
+    but that her strength is a good deal run down, and that she must
+    have been fretting about something. It just shows how little
+    doctors know, for I _never_ saw the child sweeter, or more
+    gentle, or more easily amused. You know what a troublesome
+    little creature she used to be, always flashing about and
+    upsetting things, and bringing all kinds of obnoxious insects
+    into the house; but she has been just like a lamb since your
+    wedding, sitting contentedly by my side, looking over her fairy
+    story-books, and assuring me she wasn't fretting in the least
+    about you, and that she was perfectly happy. Babs did say that
+    she heard her crying now and then at night, but I fancy the
+    child must have been mistaken, for Judy certainly would not
+    conceal any trouble from me. I will write to you again about her
+    to-morrow. She directed this envelope to you herself yesterday
+    morning before church, so I am slipping my letter into it. Don't
+    be frightened, dear, we are taking all possible care of her.
+
+                    "Your affectionate
+                          "AUNT MARJORIE."
+
+"There," said Hilda, looking up with a queer, terrified expression in
+her eyes, "I knew how it would be. I married Jasper to please myself,
+and I have killed Judy. Judy's heart is broken. Oh, what shall I do,
+Milly, what shall I do?"
+
+"Let me read Aunt Marjorie's letter," said Mildred.
+
+Her quick, practical eyes glanced rapidly over the old lady's illegible
+writing.
+
+"I don't think you have killed her, Hilda," said Miss Anstruther then,
+"but she is simply fading away for want of the love which was her life.
+Go back to her; go back at once, and she will revive. Come, there is not
+a moment to be lost. I'll run out and send a telegram to Little
+Staunton. I'll tell them to expect you this evening. Where's an A B C?
+Have you got one?"
+
+"I think there is one on the wagon in the dining room. I'll fetch it."
+
+Hilda ran out of the room; she brought back the time-table in a moment.
+Her face was white; her hands shook so that she could scarcely turn the
+leaves.
+
+"Let me find the place," said Mildred. "There, let me see. Oh, what a
+pity, you have lost the four o'clock train, and there isn't another
+until seven. Never mind, say you will take that one. You'll arrive at
+Bickley at twenty minutes to ten, and soon after ten you'll be at the
+Rectory. I'll run at once and send off the telegram, for the sooner
+Judy's heart is relieved the better."
+
+Mildred rushed to the davenport, filled in a telegraph-form, and brought
+it to Hilda to read.
+
+"There, is that right?" she exclaimed. "Put your name to it if you are
+satisfied."
+
+Hilda dashed the tears, which were still blinding her eyes, away.
+
+"Yes, yes," she exclaimed, "that will do. Take it at once, this moment,
+before--before I have time to change my mind."
+
+Mildred had written, "Tell Judy to expect me at ten to-night." Hilda
+added her name, and Mildred prepared to leave the room.
+
+"Good-by, Hilda," she said. "I won't come back, for you will need all
+your time to pack, and to leave things in order for your Jasper.
+Good-by, dear. Of course, you could not _think_ of changing your mind,
+it would be wicked, cruel; yes, it would be terribly cruel. Good-by,
+Hilda, good-by."
+
+Mildred seated herself in the victoria and desired her coachman to drive
+to the nearest telegraph-office.
+
+"I have made a discovery," she said, under her breath. "Jasper Quentyns
+was not the prince; no, _my_ prince has not yet shown his shining face
+above the horizon. Doubtless he will never come; but better that than to
+think he has arrived and wake to find him common clay. Hilda is
+absolutely _afraid_ of her husband. No, Hilda, I would not be in your
+shoes for a good deal."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+WAITING.
+
+    The days are clear,
+      Day after day,
+    When April's here,
+      That leads to May,
+    And June
+      Must follow soon.
+    Stay, June, stay!
+      If only we could stop the moon
+      And June!
+
+
+It was an April day, but the weather was still cold at Little Staunton,
+and Aunt Marjorie thought it well to have a nice bright fire burning in
+Judy's bedroom.
+
+Judy was sitting up in bed, her hair was combed back from her face, she
+wore a pink dressing-gown, the black shadows under her eyes were not so
+marked as yesterday, her firm little lips had an expression of extreme
+and touching patience. Judy's movements were somewhat languid, and her
+voice when she spoke had lost its high, glad pitch.
+
+Aunt Marjorie kept coming in and out of the room. Miss Mills fussed with
+the fire, went to the window to look out over the landscape and to make
+the same remark many times.
+
+"How late the spring is this year," said the governess, in her dreary
+monotone.
+
+Babs stood with her back to Judy, sorting a cabinet full of curiosities.
+There was no shadow of any sorrow on Babs' serene face--her full
+contented voice prattled on interminably.
+
+A drawing-board lay on Judy's bed, a sheet of drawing-paper, two or
+three pencils, and a thick piece of india-rubber lay by her side. For
+over an hour she had been drawing industriously. A pink color came into
+her cheeks as she worked, and Aunt Marjorie said to herself:
+
+"The child is all right--she just needed a little rest--she'll soon be
+as well as possible. I'll go downstairs now, and write to Hilda about
+her."
+
+Miss Mills also thought that Judy looked better. Miss Mills was still
+guilty of keeping up a somewhat one-sided correspondence with the person
+whom she so cordially hated--she had not heard from him for nearly a
+month, and thought that the present would be a good opportunity to write
+another letter to remind him of her existence. So, glancing at Judy as
+she went, she also left the room.
+
+The door was shut carefully, and the two little sisters were alone. When
+this happened, Judy threw down her pencils and gave utterance to a
+faint, quickly-smothered sigh.
+
+"Why do you do it so softly?" said Babs, not troubling herself to turn
+her face, but still keeping her stout back to her sister.
+
+"Do what so softly?" asked Judy.
+
+"Those groans to yourself. Aunt Marjorie won't believe that you ever
+groan, and I _know_ you do. She said you was as happy as the day is
+long, and I said you _wasn't_. You know you do sob at night, or you have
+she-cups or something."
+
+"Look here," said Judy, "it's very, very, _very_ unkind of you, Babs, to
+tell Aunt Marjorie what I do at night. I didn't think you'd be so
+awfully mean. I am ill now, and Aunt Maggie would do anything for me,
+and I'll ask her to put you to sleep in Miss Mills' room, if ever you
+tell what I do at night again."
+
+"I'll never tell if you don't wish me to," said Babs, in her easy tones.
+"You may sob so that you may be heard down in the drawing room and I
+won't tell. Look here, Judy, I have found your old knife."
+
+"What old knife?"
+
+"The one you saved that animal with last autumn, don't you remember?"
+
+"Oh, yes, yes--the _dear_ little earwig. Do let me see the knife, Babs;
+I thought I had lost it."
+
+"No, it was in the back of your cabinet, just under all the peacock's
+feathers. Wasn't the earwig glad when you saved her?"
+
+"Yes," said Judy, smiling, "didn't she run home fast to her family? She
+was sticking in the wood and couldn't get out, poor darling, but my dear
+little knife cut the wood away and then she ran home. Oh, didn't she go
+fast!"
+
+"Yes, didn't she?" said Babs, laughing. "I think earwigs are such
+_sweet_ little animals, don't you, Judy?"
+
+"Insects, you mean," said Judy. "Oh, yes, I love them special because
+most people hate the poor dears."
+
+"What are you drawing, Judy? What a queer, queer picture!"
+
+"I'm going to call it 'Where the nasty fairies live,'" said Judy, "but I
+haven't finished it. Babs, how long is it since Hilda went away?"
+
+"Weeks, and weeks, and weeks," replied Babs. "I has almost forgotten how
+long."
+
+"Years and years, you mean," said Judy.
+
+The little pink flush of excitement faded out of her cheeks, her eyes
+looked hollow, the shadow under them grew darker than ever.
+
+There came a rush along the passage, and Aunt Marjorie, puffing with
+the haste she had used, but trying to walk slowly and to speak calmly,
+entered the room.
+
+"Judy, my darling," she said, "I have very good news for you."
+
+"For me," said Judy, flushing and paling almost in the same moment.
+
+"Yes, my dear little pet, very nice news. Your darling Hilda is coming."
+
+"Aunt Maggie!"
+
+"Yes, here's a telegram from her. She says in it, '_Tell Judy to expect
+me at ten to-night_.' Why, my darling, how white you are! Babs, run and
+fetch me those smelling-salts. Now, Judy, just one whiff. Ah, now you're
+better."
+
+"Yes, auntie, much, much, _much_ better. I am only awfully happy."
+
+Judy smiled, and the tears rushed to her eyes; her little thin hand
+trembled, she tried to push her drawing materials away.
+
+"Please may I have the telegram?" she asked.
+
+"Of course you may, my darling. Oh, and here comes kind Miss Mills with
+your chicken-broth. Just the thing to set you up. Drink it off, dear.
+Miss Mills, our sweet Hilda is coming to-night. I have just had a
+telegram, she'll be here about ten."
+
+"Who's to meet her?" asked Miss Mills. "You forget that there are no
+horses in the stables now, and no carriage in the coach-house."
+
+"I did forget," said Aunt Marjorie. "I must send a message to Stephens
+to take a fly to the station."
+
+"I'll go and tell him as soon as ever tea is over," answered Miss Mills.
+"Ah, Judy! You'll soon be well now, Judy, won't you?"
+
+"I am well already," said Judy. "What delicious chicken-broth! Auntie
+dear, stoop down, I want to whisper something to you."
+
+"Yes, my dearie, what is it?"
+
+"I needn't be asleep when Hilda comes, need I? You will let me sit up in
+bed, won't you? I'll promise to be so quiet, I won't make a sound to
+disturb Babs, but I should love to be awake and waiting for darling
+Hilda. Please, please, auntie, say I may."
+
+"My darling--until ten o'clock! so awfully late. Judy dear, you're
+getting quite feverish--you must calm yourself, my pet. Well, then,
+well, _anything_ to soothe you. We'll see how you keep, dearie. If you
+don't get at all excited, I--I'll see what I shall do. Now I must leave
+you, darling, to go and get Hilda's room ready. I wonder if Jasper is
+coming with her, she doesn't say anything about him."
+
+Aunt Marjorie trotted out of the room, Miss Mills started on her walk
+to the village, and Judy began to speak eagerly to Babs.
+
+"I am quite well," she said; "you'll never hear me sob again at night. I
+am quite the happiest girl in the world. Oh, think of kissing Hilda
+again; and I didn't fret, no, I didn't--not really. Babs, don't you
+think you might make the room look pretty? You might get out all the
+animals and put them on the chimney-piece."
+
+"I'll be very glad to do that," replied Babs. "I often wanted to look at
+the darlings, but it was no fun when you didn't wish to play with them."
+She opened a little box as she spoke, and taking out china dogs, cats,
+cocks and hens, ducks, giraffes, elephants, monkeys, and many other
+varieties of the animal world, bestowed them with what taste she could
+manage on the mantelpiece. "Don't they look sweet!" she exclaimed. "I
+suppose you're not strong enough to have a game, Judy? If you could bray
+like the donkey, I'd be the roaring bull."
+
+"To-morrow, perhaps, I can," said Judy, in a weak voice; "but the room
+is not half ready yet. I want you to pin some of my drawings and some of
+my texes on the wall. You'll find them in my own box if you open it."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Babs in delight. "I do like making the room pretty for
+Hilda, and you ordering me. You may purtend if you like that I am your
+little servant."
+
+"Very well; you're putting that picture upside down, Babs."
+
+"Oh, how funny! Is that right?"
+
+"No, it's awfully crooked."
+
+For the next half-hour Babs labored hard, and Judy superintended, giving
+sharp criticisms and ordering the arrangements of the chamber with much
+peremptoriness.
+
+"Now we must have flowers," she exclaimed. "You must go out to the
+garden, and pick all the violets you can get."
+
+"But it's very late to go out," said Babs, "and Miss Mills will be
+angry."
+
+"As if that mattered! Who cares who is angry when Hilda is coming? The
+worst Miss Mills can do is to punish you, and you won't mind that when
+you think about Hilda. I know where there are violets, white and blue,
+on that south bank after you pass the shrubbery; you know the bank where
+the bees burrow, and where we catch ladybirds in the summer; run, Babs,
+do run at once and pick all you can find."
+
+Judy's room was decorated to perfection. Judy herself lay in her white
+bed, with pink roses on her cheeks, and eyes like two faintly shining
+stars, and smiles coming and going on her lips, and eager words dropping
+now and then from her impatient little tongue.
+
+"What is the hour now, Aunt Marjorie? Is it really only half-past nine?"
+
+"It is five-and-twenty to ten, Judy, and Miss Mills has gone in the fly
+to the station, and your Hilda will be back, if the train is punctual,
+by ten o'clock. How wonderfully well you look, my darling. I did right
+after all to let you sit up in bed to wait for your dear sister."
+
+"Yes, I am quite well, only--I hope Jasper won't come too."
+
+"Oh, fie! my pet. You know you ought not to say that treasonable sort of
+thing--Jasper is Jasper, one of the family, and we must welcome him as
+such--but between ourselves, just for no one else to hear in all the
+wide world, I do hope also that our dear little Hilda will come here by
+herself."
+
+Judy threw her thin arms round Aunt Marjorie's neck and gave her a
+silent hug.
+
+"I'll never breathe what you said," she whispered back in her emphatic
+voice.
+
+Babs slept peacefully in her cot at the other end of the room. The white
+and blue violets lay in a tiny bowl on the little table by Judy's bed.
+The rumble of wheels was heard in the avenue. Aunt Marjorie started to
+her feet, and the color flew from Judy's face.
+
+"It cannot be Hilda yet," exclaimed the aunt. "No, of course, it is the
+doctor. He will say that you are better to-night, Judy."
+
+The medical man entered the room, felt the pulse of his little patient,
+looked into her eyes, and gave utterance to a few cheerful words.
+
+"The child is much better, isn't she?" asked Aunt Marjorie, following
+him out of the room.
+
+"Hum! I am not so sure; her pulse is weak and quick, and for some reason
+she is extremely excited. What is she sitting up in bed for? she ought
+to have been in the land of dreams a long time ago."
+
+"Don't you know, Dr. Harvey; didn't we tell you, my niece, Mrs.
+Quentyns, is expected to-night? and Judy is sitting up to see her."
+
+"Suspense is very bad for my little patient. What time is Mrs. Quentyns
+expected to arrive?"
+
+"About ten. Judy is especially attached to her sister, and if I had
+insisted on her trying to go to sleep, she would have tossed about and
+worked herself into a fever."
+
+"She is very nearly in one now, and I don't particularly like the look
+of excitement in her eyes. I hope Mrs. Quentyns will be punctual. As
+soon as ever she comes, the child must settle to sleep. Give her a dose
+of that bromide mixture immediately after. I'll come and see her the
+first thing in the morning."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+HUSBAND AND WIFE.
+
+        But she is far away
+      Now; nor the hours of night, grown hoar,
+      Bring, yet to me, long gazing, from the door,
+    The wind-stirred robe of roseate gray,
+    And rose-cream of the hour that leads the day,
+      When we shall meet once more.
+
+                    --D. G. ROSSETTI.
+
+
+Hilda Quentyns, Judy's idol, was not the strongest of characters. She
+was very sweet and amiable, intensely true and affectionate to those to
+whom she gave her heart, but she was somewhat timorous and somewhat
+easily led.
+
+Long ago, when Babs was a baby, Hilda's mother had died. Since then Judy
+had been her special care.
+
+Now with trembling hands she packed her portmanteau, gave the young cook
+and parlor-maid directions what to do in her absence, and then sitting
+down before her davenport, prepared to write an explanatory letter to
+her husband.
+
+She thought it quite probable that Jasper would be angry with her for
+rushing off like this, but for once she intended to brave his
+displeasure.
+
+In her heart of hearts she knew exactly the state Judy was in. The
+ardent soul was wearing out the delicate little frame. That suffering
+which Judy would not speak of, which she was too brave to show sign or
+whisper of, was making her body ill. If Hilda went to her darling, the
+suffering would cease. Love would shine all round Judy's starved heart,
+and she would soon be well and strong again.
+
+"Yes, it is my manifest duty to go to her," whispered the wife to
+herself. "I will go to Little Staunton and nurse her for a few days, and
+when she is better she must come to London and live with me. Jasper
+won't like it--I know he won't like it, but he has really nothing to
+complain of, for I told him from the very first what Judy was to me.
+Yes, I must go, but I wish--I do wish that the train for Little Staunton
+left Waterloo at six instead of seven. I should be well on my journey
+before Jasper came back. Oh, Jasper, my darling, why do I say words of
+this sort, as if I were--as if I could be--afraid of you!"
+
+Hilda dipped her pen into the ink and wrote the first words of her
+letter.
+
+    "MY DEAREST HUSBAND:
+
+    "When you read this you will be surprised--"
+
+A rather crooked dash of her pen finished this sentence--she was
+startled by a quick double knock at the front door. A moment later
+Susan, the neat maidservant, brought in a telegram on a salver.
+
+"The boy is waiting to know if there is any answer," she said.
+
+Hilda tore open the yellow envelope; her eyes rested on the following
+words:
+
+    "Rivers will dine with us. Have everything nice, and expect me
+    home at 6.30.
+
+                    "JASPER."
+
+Mrs. Quentyns' first sensation was one of relief.
+
+"It is all right," she exclaimed, looking up at the servant, who was
+startled at her mistress's pale cheeks. "I thought my little sister,
+Miss Judy, was worse, but the telegram is from your master, Susan. Tell
+the boy there is no answer, and send cook to me without a moment's
+delay."
+
+Susan left the room, and Hilda slipped the telegram into her pocket. She
+still felt only a sense of relief, and the first faint qualms as to
+what Jasper would think of her sudden departure had not begun to visit
+her. A knock was heard at the drawing-room door.
+
+"Come in, come in," said the young mistress. "Oh, cook," exclaimed
+Hilda, "I have just had a telegram from your master. He is bringing a
+gentleman home to dine. A rather particular gentleman, and we want a
+specially nice dinner. I--I forget what I ordered this morning."
+
+The fat cook bestowed a pitying glance upon Hilda.
+
+"The boiled chicken was to be fricasseed, mum," she said, "and you
+ordered me to open one of the tins of oxtail soup; there were to be
+apple fritters afterward, and a cheese savory--that is all."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Hilda, putting her hand to her head, "that dinner would
+have done very well for Mr. Quentyns and me, but we must make some
+alterations now. You had better run round to the fishmonger's, cook, and
+go to the butcher's, and order----"
+
+Hilda rushed to her davenport, scribbled some hasty directions on a
+piece of paper, and handed them to the servant.
+
+"You must go this moment," she said, "it is six o'clock now; and please
+call at the green-grocer's on your way back, and get a pound of bananas
+and some Tangerine oranges. I will see that the wine is all right, and
+speak to Susan about the table while you are out. Run, cook, run, at
+once--things must look their _very_ best, and be served in the best
+possible manner for dinner to-night."
+
+The cook muttered something unintelligible, and by no means too well
+pleased with her errand, departed.
+
+Hilda called Susan, and going into the dining room helped her to
+decorate the table; then after impressing upon the neat little
+parlor-maid the necessity of doing what she could to help cook in this
+sudden emergency, she ran upstairs to put on her bonnet and jacket, for
+the time had almost arrived when she must start on her journey. She had
+just come downstairs when the click of the latch-key was heard, and
+Jasper, in excellent spirits, entered the house.
+
+"Well, my love," he said, going up to his wife and kissing her; "oh, you
+have been out!--did you get my telegram? I told Rivers we should not
+dine until half-past seven, in order to give you plenty of time to
+prepare. Perhaps you have been ordering some things for dinner, Hilda;
+that is right, and just what I should have expected of you. I am
+particularly anxious that Rivers should see that I have got the
+sweetest, prettiest, and best little wife and housekeeper in the
+world."
+
+For some reason which she could not explain, even to herself, Hilda felt
+her tongue tied. She returned her husband's kiss, and when he entered
+the tiny dining room she followed him.
+
+"Very nice, very nice," he exclaimed, looking with approval at the
+dinner-table, which was charmingly decorated with pink Liberty silk and
+white flowers. "But what is this?" he added suddenly, "there are only
+two places laid. One for you and one for me. We must ring for Susan at
+once--I think Rivers would rather sit at the side, away from the fire."
+
+"I--Jasper, I want to tell you something."
+
+"What is it? how pale you are, darling!"
+
+"I want to tell you something," repeated Hilda; "I--I am not going to
+dine with you to-night."
+
+"What do you mean, my dear girl--are you ill? what can be the matter?"
+
+"I am not ill, but Judy is--I am going down to Little Staunton. I have
+telegraphed to them to expect me by the train due at 9.40, and it is
+time for me to go. Is that you, Susan? Please would you order a hansom
+at once?"
+
+Susan instantly left the room, closing the door behind her.
+
+For nearly half a minute Quentyns was silent, a great wave of color had
+rushed over his face, and it was with difficulty he could keep back some
+annoyed and some sarcastic words. He was a man who prided himself on
+having great self-control, and before he uttered his first sentence he
+felt that he had recovered it.
+
+"You're trembling, dear," he said gently, "and you--you absolutely look
+as if you were _afraid_ of me. Come into the drawing room, love, and
+tell me what is wrong with Judy. My _bête noire_, Judy! what has been
+her last transgression?"
+
+"Jasper, don't, don't," said Hilda, in a voice of pain. "Judy is really
+ill this time--she fainted in church on Sunday; she is in bed now, and
+the doctor says she is very weak."
+
+"I suppose so, or she would not have fainted. I used constantly to faint
+when I was a child--the slightest thing sent me off. I was not kept in
+bed afterward, for children were not cockered up and fussed over when I
+was young. My faint was generally traced to over-eating. If you must go
+down to see Judy, I don't wish to prevent you, Hilda, but why go
+to-night?"
+
+"Oh, Jasper, I must--I must run away this instant too, for I hear the
+cab--I telegraphed to say I would go."
+
+Jasper put on a new stubborn look which Hilda had never seen before.
+
+"I don't wish to coerce you," he said, in a cold voice, "you're
+perfectly free to act as you think right in the matter. I can go down
+with you by an early train in the morning, or you can go by yourself
+now, and put me to extreme inconvenience. You're at liberty to choose."
+
+"Don't speak like that, Jasper, you pain me so dreadfully."
+
+"I fail to see how I am paining you, I am giving you a free choice. You
+can be with Judy before noon to-morrow, or you can go immediately."
+
+"I sent a telegram to her to expect me; it is so bad for sick children
+to be kept waiting."
+
+"So it seems. Yes, Susan, tell the cab to wait."
+
+Susan left the room, and heavy tears gathered in Hilda's eyes.
+
+"Can I send another telegram?" she asked weakly.
+
+"I don't believe you can, the telegraph office will be closed at Little
+Staunton. Never mind, Hilda, you had better go; I am disappointed,
+annoyed, of course, but what of that? What is a husband to a sick
+sister? Go, my dear, or you will miss your train!"
+
+"No, I won't go," said Hilda; "you have made it impossible for me to
+go. I'll stay and entertain your guest, and Judy will suffer. Yes; don't
+kiss me just now, Jasper; I think you are cruel, but I'll stay."
+
+Hilda went over to the bell and rang it.
+
+Susan answered the summons.
+
+"Give the cabman this shilling," said Mrs. Quentyns, "and tell him that
+he is not required."
+
+"You have done quite right, my love," said Quentyns, "and when you have
+got over your first little feeling of annoyance you will see the matter
+in the same light that I do. I'll telegraph to Little Staunton early in
+the morning to tell them to expect us by the 11.35 train. Of course Judy
+would have been asleep hours before you reached her to-night, so it does
+not really matter in the least. Now come upstairs and put on your very
+prettiest dress, that soft pink _chiffon_, in which you look as like a
+rosebud as a living woman can. I have capital news for you, Hilda, my
+love; Rivers certainly is a brick; he has got me to act as counsel
+in----"
+
+Quentyns talked on in his satisfied, joyous tones. He had won the
+victory, and could afford to be very gracious and generous. Hilda felt
+as if a band of iron had closed round her heart. She was too gentle and
+sweet in her nature to be long angry with her husband. Her face was a
+little paler than usual, however, and her eyes had a weary look in them.
+
+Rivers, who was a very keen observer of human nature, noticed the silent
+depression which hung over her, but Hilda's husband failed to observe
+it.
+
+"I can easily manage her," he muttered to himself; "it would have been
+beyond all reason to have had her absent from our first little dinner
+just because a child had fainted. Pshaw!--I can see that Hilda is going
+to be painfully fanciful; it all comes from having lived so long in the
+wilds of the country. Well, I'll take her down to Little Staunton
+to-morrow, and be specially good to her, but she must get over these
+absurdities about Judy, or life will not be worth living."
+
+The dinner was a success, and Hilda looked lovely. A certain dreamy and
+far-away expression in her eyes added the final touch to her beauty.
+When the men sat together over their wine, Rivers spoke of her in tones
+of rapture.
+
+"You're the luckiest fellow in Christendom, Jasper," he said; and Jasper
+Quentyns, who looked up to Tom Rivers as the first of men, felt almost
+unduly elated.
+
+"The lines had fallen unto him in pleasant places," so he muttered, and
+he forgot all about a sick and troublesome child, who at this very
+instant was counting the moments as they flew by, in her tired and weary
+eagerness to clasp her arms round Hilda's neck. Hilda, too, in the
+drawing room, was shedding silent tears, but what did that matter? for
+Jasper knew nothing about them.
+
+Jasper and Hilda were both musical, and Tom Rivers liked nothing better
+than to listen to their voices as they sang duet after duet together.
+The songs they sung were full of noble sentiment. Their voices mingled
+until they almost sounded like one rich and perfect note, as they sang
+of love which is undying and self-sacrifice which is ennobling. Quentyns
+felt a glow of elation filling his breast as his eyes rested on his
+lovely wife, and the tormentings of Hilda's conscience were soothed, and
+she too partly forgot Judy.
+
+Breakfast was served at an early hour next morning at Philippa Terrace,
+and Quentyns and his wife started for Little Staunton in time to catch
+the early train.
+
+They arrived at the small way-side station not more than twenty minutes
+beyond the appointed time, and were met by Miss Mills, who was driving
+the village pony cart herself.
+
+The governess addressed Hilda in a calm voice, but her inward
+excitement was very manifest. Jasper had talked cheerfully all the way
+down to Little Staunton, but Hilda had been almost silent. She felt
+oppressed--she dreaded she knew not what. Now, when she looked into Miss
+Mills' face, she felt her own turn pale.
+
+"No, don't speak," she said, in a hoarse whisper. "I _know_ you have bad
+news, but don't tell me now, not until we get home."
+
+"Get in," said Miss Mills, "I won't be long driving you to the Rectory.
+It is rather important for you to be there, and as the trap only holds
+two, perhaps Mr. Quentyns won't mind walking."
+
+"Not at all," said Jasper, in his pleasant, calm voice. "Can you make
+room for our portmanteau at your feet, Miss Mills? Ah, yes, that will do
+nicely. By the way, how are you all? has Judy quite recovered from her
+faint?"
+
+When Quentyns asked this question Miss Mills bent suddenly forward under
+the pretense of trying to arrange the portmanteau.
+
+"We won't be any time getting to the Rectory," she said, turning to
+Hilda; she touched the pony with her whip as she spoke and they started
+forward.
+
+"It was such a pity you didn't come last night," said the governess, as
+they entered the Rectory gates.
+
+"I--I could not help it," murmured poor Hilda. With one hand she was
+tightly grasping the edge of the little basket-carriage.
+
+"Stop, there is father," she exclaimed suddenly. "Let me go to him. I--I
+can bear him to tell me if there is anything wrong."
+
+In an instant she reached the Rector's side. Her arms were round his
+neck, her head on his shoulder, and she was sobbing her heart out on his
+breast.
+
+"My dearest Hilda, my darling!" exclaimed her father. "What is the
+meaning of all this? Why are you so dreadfully unhappy, my child?"
+
+"Tell me, father, I can bear it from you. Is she--is she dead?"
+
+"Is who dead?"
+
+"Ju--Judy."
+
+"No; what has put that into your head? But your little sister is very
+ill, Hilda. I am not so much alarmed about her as your Aunt Marjorie is,
+but I confess her state puzzles me. I saw Dr. Harvey to-day, and I don't
+think he is satisfied either. It seems that for some reason the child
+was over-excited last night--there was difficulty in getting her off to
+sleep, and she cried in a very distressing and painful way. I was
+obliged to sit with her myself. I held her hand, poor little darling,
+and had a prayer with her, and--toward morning she dropped off into a
+sleep."
+
+"And," continued Hilda, "she was better when she awoke, wasn't she? Do
+say she was, father. You showed her Jasper's telegram the very instant
+she awoke, and of course she got much better immediately."
+
+"My dear Hilda, the strange thing about Judy has yet to be told; she has
+not awakened--she is still asleep, and this prolonged and unnatural
+sleep disturbs Dr. Harvey a good deal."
+
+"I had better go to her at once, father. I think the doctor _must_ be
+mistaken in thinking sleep bad. When Judy sees me sitting by her bedside
+she will soon cheer up and get like her old self. I'll run to her now,
+father: I don't feel half so much alarmed since you tell me that she is
+only asleep."
+
+The Rector gave vent to a troubled sigh; Hilda put wings to her feet,
+and with the lightness and grace of a bird sped toward the house.
+
+"Hilda, Hilda!" called her husband. He had taken a short cut across some
+fields, and was now entering the Rectory domain. He thought it would be
+quite the correct thing for his wife to wait for him. Surely she would
+like to enter her family circle with him by her side. "Hilda, stop!" he
+cried, and he hurried his own footsteps.
+
+But if Hilda heard she did not heed. She rushed on, and soon disappeared
+from view inside the deep portico of the old house.
+
+Two or three moments later she was sitting without her hat and jacket,
+and with a pair of noiseless house-slippers on her feet, by Judy's
+bedside.
+
+All the preparations which had been made with such care and pains by
+Babs the night before were still making the nursery look pretty. The
+little china animals sat in many funny groups on the mantelpiece. The
+white and blue violets lay in a large bowl on a table by Judy's side.
+One of the little sleeper's hands was thrown outside the counterpane.
+Hilda touched it, and found that it burned with a queer, uncomfortable
+dry heat.
+
+"But how quietly she is sleeping," said Mrs. Quentyns, looking up with
+tears in her eyes at Aunt Marjorie; "why are you so solemn and
+sad?--surely this sleep must be good for her."
+
+"My dear, Dr. Harvey calls Judy's state more stupor than sleep. He says
+the most extraordinary things about the child ... that she has been
+over-excited and subjected to a severe mental strain, and he fears
+mischief to the brain. But surely he must be wrong, for nothing _could_
+exceed the quiet of our life at the Rectory since the money has gone and
+you have left us, and no one could have been less excited in her ways
+than Judy has been since your marriage. I can't make out what Dr. Harvey
+means."
+
+"I think I partly understand," said Hilda; her voice had a choking
+sound. "Don't talk so loud, Aunt Marjorie," she said impatiently; "you
+will wake her--you will disturb her."
+
+"But that is what we wish," interrupted the old lady. "The doctor says
+we must do everything in our power to rouse her. Ah, and here he comes;
+he will speak for himself."
+
+"I am glad to see you, Mrs. Quentyns," said Dr. Harvey. "Your not coming
+last night when the child expected you was a grave mistake, but better
+late than never."
+
+He stopped speaking then, and bent over the little sleeper.
+
+"Draw up the blind," he said to Aunt Marjorie, "let us have all the
+light we can. Now don't be frightened, Mrs. Quentyns--I am not going to
+hurt the child, but I must examine her eyes."
+
+Hilda felt as if she could scarcely restrain a stifled scream as the
+doctor lifted first one lid and then the other, and looked into the
+dark depths of the sweet eyes.
+
+"The child has got a shock," he said then. "I feared it when I called
+early this morning. I don't say for a moment that she will not get
+better, but her state is very precarious. I should like you to nurse her
+altogether, Mrs. Quentyns; much depends on her seeing you by her side
+when she wakes."
+
+"I shall never leave her again," said Hilda, in a stifled tone.
+
+The doctor's practiced ear caught the suppressed hysteria in her voice.
+
+"Come, come," he said cheerily, "you have nothing to blame yourself for.
+The little one has evidently felt your absence in a remarkable manner."
+
+"Really, doctor, you are quite mistaken," began Aunt Marjorie. "What I
+principally noticed about Judy was her great quietness and docility
+since Hilda left. She scarcely spoke of her sister, and seemed content
+to sit by my side and read fairy stories. She used to be such a very
+excitable, troublesome sort of child. If you ask me frankly, I think
+Hilda's absence did her good."
+
+The doctor looked from the old lady to the young.
+
+"I must adhere to my first opinion," he said. "The child has missed her
+sister. Now that you have come, Mrs. Quentyns, we will hope for the
+best."
+
+He went out of the room as he spoke, and Aunt Marjorie followed him.
+
+Hilda dropped on her knees by Judy's cot.
+
+"Oh, my God, forgive me," she cried, in a broken anguished prayer. "I
+did wrong to leave my little Judy. Oh, God, only spare her life, and I
+will vow to you that _whatever_ happens she shall never leave me in the
+time to come. Whatever happens," repeated Hilda, in a choking voice of
+great agony. Then she rose and took her place beside the child's bed.
+
+A couple of hours passed by. The door was softly opened, and Quentyns
+stole into the room. He had been very much shocked by the doctor's
+account of the child, and his face and tone expressed real sympathy as
+he came up to Hilda.
+
+"Poor little Judy!" he said, bending over her. "What a queer excitable
+little mite it is."
+
+Hilda beat her foot impatiently.
+
+"Well, my darling," continued Quentyns, not noticing his wife's
+suppressed agitation, "she will soon be all right now you have come.
+Lunch is ready, Hilda, and you must be weak for want of food. Come,
+dearest, let me take you down to the dining room."
+
+"Oh, no, Jasper! I can't leave Judy; and please, please don't talk so
+loud."
+
+"The doctor does not wish her to be kept _too_ quiet, Hilda; and surely,
+my dear, you are not going to starve yourself!"
+
+"Aunt Marjorie will send me something to the dressing room; I can't be
+away from Judy even for one minute. There is no saying when she will
+awake, and I must be with her when she does."
+
+Quentyns smothered an impatient exclamation. After a pause he said
+gently:
+
+"As you please, dear; I will bring something up myself to the dressing
+room for you," and he stole on tip-toe out of the room.
+
+Nothing could be more patient than his manner, and Hilda reproached
+herself for the feeling of irritation which his presence gave her.
+
+There came a sigh from the bed--the faintest of sounds; Mrs. Quentyns
+turned her head quickly, and saw to her rapture that Judy's big
+greeny-gray eyes were wide open and fixed earnestly on her face. There
+was no surprise in the pretty eyes, nor any additional color in the pale
+little face.
+
+"Hilda," said Judy, "I _thought_ it was only a bad dream--you never
+went away, did you?"
+
+"I am never going to leave you again, Judy," replied her sister; "never,
+never, as long as we both live. I vow--I promise--nothing shall part us,
+nothing except death."
+
+Hilda flung herself on her knees by the child's bed, and burst into
+hysterical sobs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+HILDA'S ENGAGEMENT RING.
+
+        My heart is heavy for scorn,
+      Mine eyes with impatient tears,
+    But heaven looks blue through the cherry-blooms,
+      And preaches away my fears.
+
+                    --EMILY PFEIFFER.
+
+
+Contrary to the doctor's fears, and in accordance with Hilda's hopes,
+Judy grew better. A weight had been lifted from her heart--her starved
+affections were nourished and soothed once more. Hilda scarcely ever
+left her room, and Hilda's presence was perpetual sunshine to the child.
+
+No one could possibly have behaved better than Quentyns did during this
+trying time. A certain feeling of compunction had visited him when he
+discovered how real Judy's illness was. He was assailed by a momentary
+pricking of his conscience, but as the little girl quickly grew better,
+and was soon pronounced by the doctor to be quite out of danger, it was
+but natural that an active man of the world like Quentyns should wish to
+return to town, should find the quiet Rectory simply unendurable, and
+also that he should wish to take his young wife with him.
+
+The Quentyns arrived at Staunton Rectory on a certain Wednesday, and on
+the following Sunday evening Quentyns thought the time had arrived for
+him to speak to Hilda about their return to town. He had not seen much
+of her during the days which had intervened, and he was obliged now to
+send Babs with a message to Judy's room to ask his wife to come to him.
+
+Hilda was reading aloud to Judy when Babs entered the room, and said in
+her important, calm way:
+
+"Jasper wants you, Hilda, and you are to go to him this minute."
+
+Hilda could read beautifully, and Judy had lain in a dream of rapture,
+listening to the beloved voice as it told the old story of Christian and
+his pilgrimage. Now the wistful, distressed look crept back into her
+face.
+
+"Never mind, dear," said Hilda, bending forward and kissing the child.
+"I shall not be long away."
+
+Quentyns was waiting for his wife in the large conservatory which opened
+into the drawing room. It was nearly empty of flowers and plants now,
+but was still a pleasant place to lounge about in.
+
+"Well, my love," he said in his pleasant tone. "Why, how pale you look,
+Hilda. I am not going to scold you, darling--oh, no, not for the world;
+but I haven't got too much of your society during these last few days. I
+don't blame you, and I am not jealous; but if you _could_ spare me half
+an hour now, there are one or two things I want to talk over with you."
+
+"Of course I can spare you half an hour, Jasper, or an hour for that
+matter, if you want it," replied Hilda cheerfully. "Judy is much, much
+better to-night, and I am feeling quite happy about her."
+
+Hilda slipped her hand through her husband's arm as she spoke; he gave
+the little hand an affectionate squeeze and drew his wife close to his
+side.
+
+"I am glad Judy is better," he said. "What I have to propose will be
+quite convenient then, Hilda. I want to go back to town by the first
+train in the morning. I have heard from Rivers, and----What is it, my
+love? You really do look very pale. You are overdoing yourself, and I
+cannot allow it. Now that Judy is better you must rest. I shall get Dr.
+Pettifer to look you up and give you a tonic when we get back to town."
+
+"Stop, Jasper," said Hilda suddenly. "I am not tired nor worn out in
+any way. I look pale now because my heart beats--because----Jasper, I
+cannot go to town with you to-morrow. I know you must go; of course, I
+quite understand that; but I am not going--not until Judy is well enough
+to be moved."
+
+Quentyns did not reply for several seconds, then he said in a gentle
+tone, which did not betray an atom of his true feeling:
+
+"I half expected you to say something of this sort, Hilda; I cannot
+pretend that I am not sorry. The fine weather is coming on; the London
+season will soon be at its height. I do not mean for a moment to imply
+that we can avail ourselves of what is termed a season in town, but for
+a poor and struggling man it is essential that he should leave no stone
+unturned to introduce himself to those persons who can and will help
+him. The influential sort of people who can materially assist me in my
+career are now in London, Hilda. You, my darling, are an excuse for many
+valuable introductions. You see, therefore, that not alone from an
+affectionate point of view you ought now to be with me. But," continued
+Jasper, looking straight ahead of him, and fixing his fine, intelligent
+eyes on the distant landscape, "I waive all that. I understand that you
+do not wish to leave Judy until she is fit to be moved to the seaside.
+If she maintains the progress she is now making, Dr. Harvey will
+probably allow Aunt Marjorie to take her away at the end of the week. I
+shall have you home on Saturday at the latest, Hilda."
+
+"Yes," said Hilda. "I hope so, but--but, Jasper, you still fail to
+understand me. When Judy goes away, she is not going to the seaside--she
+is coming with me to London--to Philippa Terrace. It is a promise, and
+I--I won't--I can't go back from it. I stand or fall by my promise,
+Jasper--I wish to say so now once for all."
+
+"You stand or fall by your promise!" repeated Quentyns. "What an
+extraordinary remark. One would suppose, my darling, that I was an ogre
+or the worst sort of tyrant. I always told you that Judy should come to
+stay with us for a few weeks when we had a room to receive her in. If
+matters progress as satisfactorily as I hope, we shall have a snug,
+prettily furnished, little spare room by the end of the present season.
+I promise you, Hilda, that Judy shall be its first tenant."
+
+Hilda laid her hand with a sort of trembling, nervous impatience, on her
+husband's arm.
+
+"I have made a mistake--I have been a coward," she said. "Even now,
+Jasper, you don't a bit understand me. Long ago, when mother died, she
+left Judy in my charge. I ought never to have married and left her. Judy
+is not an ordinary child, and she suffered. When I went away her heart
+was starved. She could not live with a starved heart. In my absence, my
+little Judy nearly died. She is better now--she is recovering because I
+am with her. I am never going to leave her again while she lives."
+
+"Hilda, what nonsense you talk," said Quentyns, with temper in his tone.
+"If Judy lives to grow up, she will marry like other girls--and will
+leave you of her own accord."
+
+"If she does," replied Hilda, "that alters the case, but until she
+leaves me by her own wish or marries, she is in my charge. I will not be
+parted from her, Jasper. I shall not return to Philippa Terrace until I
+can bring her with me."
+
+"Is that really your final decision?" said Quentyns--he turned round now
+and looked at his wife; his face was very cold, its expression carefully
+veiled. He was intensely anxious not to show even a trace of ill-temper.
+His words were guarded. "Is that your final decision, Hilda?" he said,
+and there was a fine withering sort of sarcasm in his voice. "Do you
+mean seriously to desert the husband you married not three months ago
+for the sake of a child's whim? Is that the way you keep your marriage
+vow?"
+
+"No, no, Jasper! I want to be true to you both. I made two vows, and I
+want to keep them both. Help me, Jasper; I am not a bit a strong-minded
+girl, I am just very loving. My heart is full of love to you and to
+Judy. Help me to do this--help me to love you both, to serve you both.
+Go back to town to-morrow and furnish the spare room, and I will bring
+Judy back with me on Friday or Saturday."
+
+"I said I should not run in debt. I have no more money to spend on
+furniture at present. You don't really care for me, Hilda, or you would
+never speak as you do. But, once for all, I will not be drawn into a
+path which simply means ruin for the sake of any woman, and for the
+ridiculous fancies of any child. I will buy no furniture until I can pay
+for it. That ends the matter, my dear. If you are determined to stay at
+the Rectory for the summer, they will all, I am sure, be charmed to have
+you, and I will try and run down as often as I can. I need not say that
+I think you are making a most grave mistake, but a willful woman must
+e'en have her way, I suppose. Ah, and here comes the Rector, he has just
+returned from evening service."
+
+Quentyns went toward the door of the conservatory, which he flung open.
+Mr. Merton was just entering his drawing room.
+
+"One moment, Jasper--one moment," said Hilda; she rushed after her
+husband, her face was like death, her eyes were blazing with passion.
+
+"Your cruel words make anything possible," she said. "I made two vows
+before God, and I will keep them both. There, this was costly, I
+presume. You spent money on it--sell it again, and buy the furniture
+that you will not go in debt for."
+
+She thrust her engagement ring into Quentyns' hand and rushed away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+JUDY'S ROOM.
+
+    An ear that waits to catch
+    A hand upon the latch.
+
+                    --DORA GREENWELL.
+
+
+"Here is a letter from Jasper, Hilda darling," said Aunt Marjorie,
+coming into Judy's bedroom two or three days after the events mentioned
+in the last chapter. "I know the hand-writing, dear. How strong and
+manly it looks. I do love a manly hand, don't you?"
+
+Hilda did not reply. She rose from her seat by Judy's side, and taking
+her husband's letter, walked to the window, and, standing with her back
+to the light, opened it eagerly. Her face was a little pale and worn,
+and her eyes had tired lines under them. No one had noticed any change
+in her, however. Judy was fast recovering--each day her spirits rose,
+her appetite improved, her strength grew greater. She was to be taken
+into Hilda's old boudoir to-day, and Babs was importantly moving the
+beloved china animals, arranging flowers, and getting the room ready
+for the great event.
+
+Aunt Marjorie, after her usual fashion, fussed over Judy while Hilda
+read her letter. It was brief, but somehow it gave the young wife
+unexpected hope and pleasure:
+
+    "MY DEAREST WIFE:
+
+    "Pray forgive me for not writing sooner, but I have been
+    exceedingly busy since I returned to town, and have dined each
+    night with Rivers at his club. I send a hasty line now to say
+    that you can bring Judy back to Philippa Terrace whenever she is
+    strong enough to be moved, as I have given Shoolbred full
+    directions with regard to furnishing the spare room, and have
+    just had a letter from him to say the goods will be delivered
+    to-day.
+
+    "Pray don't tire yourself more than is necessary. And believe
+    me,
+
+                    "Your affectionate husband,
+                          "JASPER QUENTYNS."
+
+"Judy," said Hilda--she turned eagerly, the old lovely color mantling
+her cheeks, and the brightness of hope filling her eyes. "Isn't Jasper
+good, Judy? I have just heard from him--he says the furniture is coming
+in for your room to-day. We can go back to town as soon as ever Dr.
+Harvey thinks you strong enough to be moved, my pet."
+
+"Which won't be this week," interrupted Aunt Marjorie. "It would be the
+sheerest madness. Has Jasper proposed such a thing, Hilda? If so, I can
+only say how like a man. In about a fortnight, this dear child may be
+the better for change of air.... I have no doubt too that Dr. Harvey
+will be pleased to have a London opinion about her. There may be a
+weakness of the heart's action. I never am easy about people who faint
+off suddenly. Now, Judy, why do you flush up? you know you oughtn't to
+listen when Auntie talks to Hilda about you. Go on reading your pretty
+story book, my love. Yes, Hilda, I should like the child to see a
+first-class physician. You know your mother's heart was not strong. He
+will doubtless order cod-liver oil, but for my part I prefer cream."
+
+"I know something better than cream for Judy--don't I, my pet?" said
+Hilda, turning to her little sister with her bright smile.
+
+"And so do I," replied Judy. "Oh, Hilda, to think of living with you in
+your own little house! Oh, Hilda, I'm _too_ happy--I am so happy that my
+heart aches. It aches with pleasure."
+
+Judy's thin arms were flung round her sister's neck. Her lips pressed
+Hilda's soft young cheek, her eyes looked into Hilda's. It seemed to
+them both at that moment that soul answered to soul.
+
+"Now what nonsense this is," said Aunt Marjorie in her fussy tones.
+"Judy, I hope Hilda is not going to encourage you in silly sentimental
+talk of that kind. You say your heart aches with pleasure. Really, my
+dear, I have no patience to listen to you. I should like to know what a
+child like you knows about heart-aches--you, who have been brought up in
+what I may call the very lap of luxury. For, Hilda, I have made it the
+object of my life ever since poverty came to us, to prevent even the
+slightest shadow of its wings touching the children. They have had their
+excellent governess, and their warm schoolroom and snug bedroom. I cut
+down one of my own fur cloaks to give them really nice winter jackets,
+and I took special care that the schoolroom table should be as liberal
+as ever. It is impossible, therefore, for me to understand Judy's silly
+words about her heart aching."
+
+Aunt Marjorie left the room, and Judy still softly rubbed her cheek
+against Hilda's.
+
+"But my heart did ache," she said after a pause--"it aches with joy now,
+and it did ache--oh, it kept crying, it felt starved without you,
+Hilda."
+
+"I understand--yes, I understand," replied Hilda.
+
+"You don't mind what Aunt Marjorie says then?"
+
+"Not about you, my own little love."
+
+"Hilda, I did really try very, very hard not to fret."
+
+"The effort was too much for you, my Judy; but never mind, the pain and
+the parting are all over now. Isn't it kind of your new brother--isn't
+it kind of dear, dear Jasper--to get the nice little room furnished and
+ready for you, darling?"
+
+"Yes, Hilda. Has he gone in debt for the furniture? You told me long ago
+that the room would have been furnished and that I should have come to
+you, but there was no money left, and Jasper would not go in debt. Has
+he really gone in debt now, just to please me?"
+
+"No, my love, no--we have managed. You must not ask inquisitive
+questions. All is right now, and we shall be very happy together."
+
+Dr. Harvey was highly pleased, when he heard that his little patient was
+going to London with her sister. He was a man with plenty of
+observation, and he could read between the lines much better than poor
+obtuse old Aunt Marjorie.
+
+"You are the right physician for your little sister, Mrs. Quentyns," he
+said. "I prophesy that Miss Judy will become perfectly strong and well
+in a short time under your care. Yes, there will be nothing to prevent
+her traveling to town on Saturday next, if you really wish it. The
+weather is extraordinarily mild for the time of year, and a change will
+do Judy more good than anything else."
+
+Hilda wrote a joyful letter to her husband that day.
+
+"You are to expect us both on Saturday," she said. "Oh, Jasper, how
+happy your letter has made me. How good--how really good you are. Please
+forgive me if I was a little hasty with you the other evening. I know
+you will never regret, darling husband, helping me to keep both my
+vows--the vow I made to you, and the vow I made mother. No one ever had
+a more loving wife than I shall prove to you, and no one ever had a
+dearer little sister than you will find my Judy when you really know
+her."
+
+"Her Judy, indeed!" murmured Quentyns, when he read his wife's letter at
+his breakfast-table on the following morning. "Tiresome little
+piece--she'll never be _my_ Judy, however much she may be Hilda's. Well,
+I suppose I must make the best of a bad job, but if I had known
+beforehand that that wretched sentimental child was to be tacked on to
+us, I'd have thought twice.... No, I wouldn't though, I love Hilda well
+enough to bear some inconvenience for her sake; but if she thinks this
+step will really add to our happiness, she'll soon find her mistake.
+Fancy her asking me to sell her engagement ring! I can never get over
+that. Things can't be quite the same again--it's impossible. Well, well,
+more than one friend has told me I'd wake from my dream of bliss some
+day. I have, with a vengeance--it has been something of a shock too.
+Heigho! I am not going to _look_ like defeat, anyhow. Of course, too,
+I'll be just the same to Hilda outwardly. Ah, there's Susan--I'd better
+speak to her and get her to tell cook. This is Thursday--they'll be here
+in two days."
+
+"Susan," as the neat parlor-maid entered the room, "I have had a letter
+from your mistress. She is coming home on Saturday, and will bring
+little Miss Merton with her. Have the things come from Shoolbred's yet?"
+
+"The furniture, sir, for the spare room? Yes, it arrived yesterday, and
+the man is coming to lay down the carpet and put up the curtains this
+morning."
+
+"Well, Susan, you get the room ready, and have the bed well aired, and
+tell me if there's anything more wanted--the child has been ill, and
+she'll require every comfort. Mrs. Quentyns will wish the room to look
+as nice as possible. I know nothing about these matters--see to it,
+Susan, will you?"
+
+"Yes, sir; you may depend on me and cook to do everything right----"
+
+"And tell cook about your mistress. Let me see, they'll be home between
+five and six on Saturday evening. I shan't dine at home to-night, and if
+a telegram comes for me, I want you to wire to my city address. This is
+it."
+
+Quentyns left the house, and Susan and the cook spent a busy day in
+dusting, polishing, sweeping, and cleaning.
+
+The little spare room looked very sweet and bright with the simple tasty
+furniture which Quentyns had chosen. The small bed was inviting in its
+white draperies. The furniture, painted in artistic greens, had a cool
+and young effect. The room looked like a child's room, and Susan and
+cook were in ecstasies over its appearance.
+
+"Master _'ave_ taste and no mistake," said cook. "But why don't he come
+and look for 'isself at all we have done, Susan? So natty as everything
+looks, and the furniture master's taste and all. Won't missis be
+pleased! But why don't he come and say what he thinks of how we has put
+the things, Susan?"
+
+"Never you mind," said Susan. "Master knows as the arranging of
+furniture is woman's province--there's no fussing in him, and that's
+what I likes him for."
+
+Saturday arrived in due time, and the little house in Philippa Terrace
+was in apple-pie order.
+
+As Quentyns was leaving for town that morning, Susan waylaid him.
+
+"What hour shall I tell my missis that we may expect you home, sir?" she
+asked. "Mrs. Quentyns and the little lady will be here by six, and the
+very first thing my missis will ask is, when you are coming in."
+
+"Say," began Quentyns--he paused. "I'll write a line," he said; "you can
+give it to your mistress. I shan't be in to dinner to-night, and cook
+had better prepare tea for Mrs. Quentyns and Miss Merton, with fish or
+chops or something of that sort. I'll write a line--I'm glad you
+reminded me, Susan."
+
+Quentyns went into his tiny little study, and wrote a few hasty words.
+
+    "DEAR HILDA: I have some important work to get through to-night,
+    and shall not be back early. I have the latch-key, so no one
+    need sit up. I shall dine at the club with Rivers. Go to bed
+    early if you are tired.
+
+                    "Your Affectionate Husband."
+
+This letter was handed to Hilda on her arrival. She was too excited and
+too interested in getting Judy into the house, and showing her all the
+pleasant arrangements made for her comfort, to read it at first; but
+when her tired little sister was safe in bed, and Hilda had seen her
+enjoying a cup of tea, with some toast and a new-laid country egg, then
+she took Jasper's note out of her pocket.
+
+She was in her own room, and she hesitated for a moment before she
+opened it. She had a kind of premonition that there was pain in it. Her
+home-coming had made her happy, and even while she was opening the
+envelope of Jasper's letter she was listening for the click of his
+latch-key in the hall-door lock.
+
+He was always home in good time on Saturdays, and surely he would make
+extra haste to-night in order to give his wife and his little sister a
+hearty welcome.
+
+Hilda's was the most forgiving nature in the world. During that scene
+in the conservatory at Little Staunton she had lost her temper with her
+husband, but she felt quite sure now that her hasty words must be
+forgotten. As she forgave absolutely, so would he. Why had he written to
+her therefore? Why was he not here? She pulled the note out of its
+envelope, and read the few words that it contained.
+
+It is not too much to say that her heart sank down, down, very low
+indeed in her breast. She became conscious for the first time in her
+life of that heart-hunger, that absolute starved sort of ache which had
+so nearly wrecked Judy's little life. This was the first pang of pain,
+but the ache was to go on and become worse presently.
+
+Hilda was a very patient sort of woman, however, and it did not occur to
+her to cry out or make a fuss. She read the note twice, then put it into
+her pocket and went downstairs.
+
+"Tell cook that I don't want any dinner," she said to Susan; "I will
+have my tea upstairs with Miss Judy. Tell her not to get dinner, as Mr.
+Quentyns is obliged to be out this evening."
+
+"Hilda," called Judy's weak little voice from out of her luxurious white
+bed; "Hilda, do come here a minute."
+
+Hilda went immediately into the room.
+
+"I am so happy and so sleepy," said Judy. "I'm like a bird in a
+nest--oh, I am so snug. Jasper will be coming in presently, won't he,
+Hilda? and you'll want to be with him. I shan't need you at all
+to-night, Hilda darling; I'm going to sleep very soon, and I just sent
+for you now to say that you mustn't come up to me after dinner--you must
+stay with Jasper and let him amuse you. I am sure you want lots of
+amusement after all the dull nursing you have had. Go and put on your
+pretty dinner dress now, Hilda, and then come and look at me and say
+good-night. I am so awfully happy, and I just want one kiss from you
+before I go to sleep."
+
+"But you don't want to go to sleep yet, little puss," said Hilda, in her
+most cheerful tone; "at least I hope you don't until I have had my tea.
+I want to have my tea with you, darling, so I hope you don't mind
+putting up with my company for a little longer."
+
+"As if I could mind--you know better. But, Hilda, if you have tea now
+you won't be hungry for your dinner."
+
+Judy puckered her dark brows with anxiety.
+
+"I'm not going to have dinner."
+
+"You aren't--not really! then what will Jasper say?"
+
+"I've had a little letter from Jasper, darling; he is obliged to be out
+late on business, and won't dine at home to-night. Ah, here comes Susan
+with another new-laid egg for me, and some fresh toast. Now I am going
+to have a delightful little supper in your company, Judy, and then I
+shall settle you for the night."
+
+Hilda talked faster than was her wont; there was an additional
+rose-color in her pretty cheeks, and a brighter light than usual in her
+soft brown eyes. She laughed and jested and made merry over her egg and
+toast.
+
+"How pretty you look!" said Judy, with a heart-whole sigh of admiration
+and content.
+
+She saw nothing wrong, and Hilda kissed her and left the room a few
+minutes later.
+
+She was still wearing her heavy traveling-dress, but after a moment's
+reflection she went into her bedroom, and quickly changed it for a pale
+silk dress of the softest shade of rose. This dress was a special
+favorite of her husband's; he used to liken her to a rosebud in it, and
+said that no color more truly matched the soft tender bloom of her young
+face.
+
+Hilda put on the rose silk now, arranged her dark hair picturesquely,
+and going downstairs to the little drawing room, occupied herself for an
+hour or more in giving it some of those delicate touches which make the
+difference between the mistress of the house being at home and away.
+
+It was a very warm evening for the time of year, but Hilda had a fire
+lit in the grate. The shaded lamp shed a softened golden glow in its
+accustomed corner of the room, and Jasper's favorite chair was placed
+ready for his reception; then Hilda sank down into her own easy-chair,
+and taking up a book, tried to read.
+
+Susan came presently into the room.
+
+"Oh, Susan," said her mistress, "I was about to ring for you. It has
+struck ten o'clock; you and cook are to go to bed, please; I will wait
+up for Mr. Quentyns."
+
+"If you please, ma'am," said Susan.
+
+She stopped and hesitated.
+
+"Yes, Susan?" answered Mrs. Quentyns, in a gentle interrogative tone.
+
+"If you please, ma'am, master has been very late coming home when you
+was in the country--not till past midnight most nights."
+
+"Thank you, Susan; but Mr. Quentyns will probably be in earlier
+to-night, and I wish to remain up. Go to bed, and tell cook to do the
+same. Oh, and please, I should like Miss Judy to have a cup of tea
+brought to her room at eight to-morrow morning. Good-night, Susan."
+
+The parlor-maid withdrew.
+
+"And don't she look beautiful as a pictur," she muttered under her
+breath. "Pore young lady, I doubt if she's pleased with master though.
+Him staying away and all on the first night as she comes back. I
+wouldn't set up for him ef I were her--no, that I wouldn't; I wouldn't
+make so little of myself; but she's proud, too, is Mrs. Quentyns, and
+she don't let on; no, not a bit. Well, I respect her for that, but I
+misdoubt me if all is right atween that pair."
+
+Susan went upstairs to confide her suspicions to cook. They talked in
+low whispers together, and wondered what the mystery could be which was
+keeping Quentyns from his pretty wife's side.
+
+In the meantime, in the silent house the moments for the one anxious
+watcher went slowly by. Her novel was not interesting--she let it fall
+on her knees, and looking at the little clock on the mantelpiece,
+counted the moments until eleven should strike. She quite expected that
+Jasper would be home at eleven. It did not enter for a moment into her
+calculations that he could be absent on this first night of her return
+beyond that hour. When the eleven musical strokes sounded on the little
+clock, and were echoed in many deeper booms from without, she got up,
+and opening the drawing-room door, stepped out into the little hall.
+
+Footsteps kept passing and passing in the street. Cabs kept rolling up
+to other doors and rolling away again. Jasper must surely arrive at any
+moment.
+
+Hilda softly opened the hall door, and standing on the steps, looked up
+and down the gas-lit street. If Jasper were walking home he would see
+her. The lamp light from within threw her slim figure into strong
+relief. A man passing by stopped for an instant to look at her.
+
+Hilda shut the hall door hastily in fear and distress. The man had
+looked as if he might say something rude. She returned to her little
+drawing room, and sitting down by the dying fire stared fixedly into its
+embers until her eyes were full of tears.
+
+Between twelve and one Quentyns let himself softly into the house with
+his latch-key. He was immediately attracted by the light in the drawing
+room, the door of which was slightly ajar. He came into the room at
+once, to find Hilda lying back in her easy-chair, fast asleep. She was
+looking pale--all her pretty roses had fled. Quentyns' first impulse was
+to fold her in his arms in an embrace of absolute love and
+reconciliation.
+
+What a pity it is that we don't oftener yield to our first impulses,
+for they are as a rule whispered to us by our good angels.
+
+Quentyns bent forward, and lightly, very lightly, touched the sleeper's
+soft hair with his big hand. That touch was a caress, but it startled
+Hilda, who woke up with a cry.
+
+"Oh, Jasper," she said, looking at him with alarm in her eyes, "you--you
+are home! I didn't mean to go to sleep, and--what is it, Jasper?"
+
+"Kiss me, Hilda; I am glad you have returned," said Quentyns. "But
+another night, if I should happen to be late, you must not sit up for
+me--I hate being waited for."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE LITTLE RIFT.
+
+    No backward path; ah! no returning;
+      No second crossing that ripple's flow:
+    Come to me now for the mist is burning:
+      Come ere it darkens; Ah, no; ah, no!
+
+                    --JEAN INGELOW.
+
+
+Jasper Quentyns was quite certain that he was behaving admirably under
+circumstances of a specially trying nature.
+
+Judy's advent in the house gave him no small annoyance. Hilda's behavior
+about Judy, her fit of sudden passion, above all the relinquishing of
+her engagement ring, had cut him to the quick. He was proud, sensitive,
+and jealous; when, therefore, he could smile at Judy and chat in light
+and pleasant tones to his wife, when he could remark on the furniture in
+the spare room, and make many suggestions for the comfort of the little
+sister-in-law whom he detested, he was under the impression that his
+conduct was not only exemplary but Christian.
+
+It was true that he went out a good deal in the evenings, not taking
+Hilda with him as had been his original intention, but leaving her at
+home to enjoy the society of the child who had brought the first cloud
+into his home.
+
+"I am going to dine out to-night, Hilda," he would say. "A man I know
+particularly well has asked me. Afterward he and I may go to the theater
+together. You won't mind of course being left, as you have Judy with
+you?"
+
+"Oh, no, dear!" she replied, on the first of these occasions; and when
+Jasper came to say something of this sort two or three times a week,
+Hilda's invariable gentle answer was always that she did not mind.
+
+Jasper was kind--kindness itself, and if she did feel just a trifle
+afraid of him, and if she could not help knowing all over her heart that
+the sun did not shine now for her, that there was a cloud between her
+husband and herself, which she could neither brush away nor penetrate,
+she made no outward sign of being anything different from the cheery and
+affectionate Hilda of old. There were subjects now, however, which she
+shrank from touching on in Jasper's presence. One of them was her
+engagement ring, another the furniture in Judy's room. That ring she had
+been told by more than one connoisseur was worth at least fifty pounds,
+and Hilda was certain that the simple furniture which made Judy's
+little room so bower-like and youthful could not have cost anything
+approaching that sum. Still Jasper said nothing about giving her change
+out of the money which he had spent, and Hilda feared to broach the
+subject of the ring to him. Another topic which by a sort of instinct
+she refrained from was Judy herself. When Jasper was in the house Hilda
+was always glad when Judy retired to her own room. When the gay little
+voice, happy now, and clear and sweet as a lark's, was heard singing
+snatches of gay songs all over the house, if Jasper were there, Hilda
+would carefully close the door of the room he was sitting in.
+
+"Not now, Judy darling," she would say, when the child bounded eagerly
+into their presence. "Jasper is just going out--when he is out I will
+attend to you. Go on with your drawing in the dining room until I come
+to you, Judy."
+
+Judy would go away at once obedient and happy, but Hilda's face would
+flush with anxiety, and her eyes would not meet her husband's. So
+between each of these young people there was that wall of reserve which
+is the sad beginning of love's departure; but Hilda, being the weaker of
+the two and having less to occupy her thoughts, suffered more than
+Jasper.
+
+On a certain evening when Judy had been a happy resident of No. 10
+Philippa Terrace for over a month, Quentyns was about to leave his
+office and to return home, when his friend Tom Rivers entered his room.
+
+"Have you any engagement for to-night, Quentyns?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"None," said Jasper, visible relief on his face, for he was beginning to
+dislike the evenings which he spent with a wife who always had a sense
+of constraint over her, and with the knowledge that Judy's presence was
+only tolerated when he was by. "I am at your service, Tom," said Jasper.
+"Do you want me to go anywhere with you?"
+
+Rivers was a great deal older than Quentyns, he was a very clever and
+practical man of the world. He looked now full at Jasper. He had not
+failed to observe the eager relief on his friend's face when he asked if
+he had any engagement. To a certain extent Jasper had made Rivers his
+confidant. He had told him that Hilda's little sister, who had been so
+ill and had given them all such a fright, was staying now at Philippa
+Terrace.
+
+Rivers shrewdly guessed that Hilda's little sister was scarcely a
+welcome guest, as far as Quentyns was concerned. Rivers had taken a
+fancy to pretty Mrs. Quentyns. With a quick mental survey he saw again
+the picture of the young wife on the night when he had dined at Philippa
+Terrace.
+
+"She did not look perfectly happy," he thought. "I hope Quentyns is good
+to her. I seldom saw a more charming face than hers, but with such eyes,
+so full of expression, so full of that sort of dumb, dog-like
+affectionateness, she must, she will suffer horribly if there comes a
+cloud between her husband and herself. Quentyns is the best of fellows,
+but he can be dogged and obstinate--I hope to goodness there's nothing
+up in that pretty little home of theirs."
+
+Aloud Rivers said abruptly, "I had thought of asking you to dine at the
+club with me, and then we might have gone to see Irving in _Henry
+VIII._,--a friend has given me two stalls,--but on second thoughts I can
+dispose of those tickets. What I should really like best is to come home
+with you, Quentyns, and have the pleasure of another chat with your
+wife. I want to hear you both sing too--I seldom heard two voices better
+suited to go together. May I invite myself to dinner to-night, Jasper?"
+
+"Oh, certainly," said Jasper, after a moment's awkward hesitation. "I'll
+just wire to Hilda, if you don't mind."
+
+"Not at all," said Rivers; "but remember, I am coming to take
+pot-luck."
+
+Jasper ran off to the nearest telegraph office.
+
+Rivers saw that his proposal was anything but welcome, but for that very
+reason he was determined to carry it out.
+
+An hour later he found himself standing in the pretty drawing room in
+Philippa Terrace, talking to the most charming little girl he had ever
+had the pleasure of meeting.
+
+Quentyns had run up at once to his room, and Hilda had not yet put in an
+appearance, but Judy, who was sitting on a sofa reading "Sylvie and
+Bruno," jumped up at once and came forward in her shy but self-possessed
+little way to meet her sister's guest.
+
+"How do you do?" she said. "Where would you like to sit?"
+
+"I prefer standing, thank you," said Rivers. He smiled at Judy and held
+out his hand. "So you are the young mutineer," he said suddenly.
+
+Judy's big eyes looked up at him in surprise--she was dressed in a green
+silk frock, with a broad golden-brown sash round her waist. Her dress
+was cut rather low in the neck, and she had several rows of golden-brown
+beads round her throat. The quaint dress suited the quaint but earnest
+little face.
+
+"What do you mean by calling me such a queer name?" said Judy.
+
+"I am a great friend of your brother-in-law's," said Rivers, now
+dropping into a chair and drawing the child toward him, "and he has told
+me all about you--you mutinied when Mrs. Quentyns went away--it was very
+wrong of you, very wrong indeed."
+
+"You can't judge anything about it," said Judy, the sensitive color
+coming into her face; "you are on Jasper's side, so you can't know."
+
+"Of course I'm on Jasper's side, he's an excellent fellow, and a great
+friend of mine."
+
+"I don't like him," said Judy; "it isn't to be expected I should."
+
+"Of course not, you wouldn't be a mutineer if you did."
+
+"I wish you wouldn't call me by that horrid name," said Judy. "I can't
+quite understand what it means, but I'm sure it's disagreeable."
+
+"A mutineer is always a disagreeable person," continued Rivers, looking
+with his pleasant eyes full at the child. "He is in a state of
+rebellion, you know. People aren't nice when they rebel against the
+inevitable."
+
+"What's the inevitable?" asked Judy.
+
+"The inevitable!" repeated Rivers. "The inevitable," he continued
+gravely, "is what has to be met because it cannot be avoided. The
+inevitable stands directly in a person's path; he can't go round it, he
+can't jump over it, he has just to meet it bravely and make the best
+friend he possibly can of it."
+
+"Oh," said Judy, "that sounds like a fairy tale. Babs and I love fairy
+tales, particularly the old, old ones--the Jack the Giant Killer
+sort--you understand?"
+
+"Jack the Giant Killer had lots of inevitables to meet," pursued Rivers.
+
+"Yes, of course," said Judy; "now I know what you mean as far as dear
+Jack was concerned, but I don't know what you mean about me."
+
+"Well, you see, Miss Judy--you don't mind my calling Jasper's little
+sister Miss Judy?"
+
+"Oh, don't talk of him," said Judy, a frown between her brows.
+
+"But I must if I'm to explain my meaning to you, for he's the
+inevitable."
+
+"Now what _do_ you mean?--you're the most puzzling sort of grown-up
+person I ever met!"
+
+"And you're the most intelligent sort of little person I ever met. Now
+let me explain matters to you. Your sister is very pretty, isn't she?"
+
+"Pretty?" said Judy meditatively--"pretty is such a common sort of
+word--if you call flowers pretty, Hilda is, I suppose, but she's much,
+much more than pretty."
+
+"I understand. I'm quite sure I understand you perfectly. And your
+sister is good too, and sweet?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" Judy's eyes filled with tears, she blinked her eyelashes and
+looked out of the window.
+
+"Well, now," said Rivers, and his voice was quite tender, for Judy's
+manner and attitude touched him wonderfully. "Well, now, you see it was
+inevitable that some man should love a woman like your sister, and want
+to make her his wife, and wish to take her altogether to himself. It was
+inevitable, also, that a woman with a gentle heart like Mrs. Quentyns
+should love this man in return and want to devote her life to him."
+
+"Don't!" said Judy, suddenly; "I understand you now, I don't want you to
+say another word." She crossed over to the window and stood there with
+her back to Rivers, looking gravely out.
+
+Hilda came down in her rose-colored silk, and Rivers did not wonder that
+Judy thought of the flowers when she looked at her.
+
+Hilda was unfeignedly glad to see him, and they had a pleasanter evening
+than any since Judy's advent in Philippa Terrace. Rivers paid a great
+deal of attention to the smallest and youngest member of the party, and
+not only completely won Hilda's heart by so doing, but induced Quentyns
+to look at his little sister-in-law with new eyes, and to discover for
+the first time, that under certain conditions that wistful little face
+could be both lovely and charming.
+
+"Remember about the inevitable," said Rivers, as he bade the child
+good-night.
+
+"What did Mr. Rivers mean, Judy?" said Hilda. "Oh, Judy, what flushed
+cheeks!--I did wrong to let you sit up, but you seemed so happy--you
+seemed to take such a fancy to Mr. Rivers."
+
+"He was disagreeable to me--very disagreeable," said Judy, "but I liked
+him."
+
+"And what did he mean by reminding you of the inevitable?" continued
+Hilda.
+
+"It was in that way he was disagreeable," replied Judy. "I can't
+explain, Hilda darling; good-night--I am going to bed now."
+
+That evening, in their own room, Hilda came suddenly to her husband's
+side.
+
+"Jasper, don't you think you might forget about it now?" she said
+timidly.
+
+"Forget about what, Hilda?" He had been genial and pleasant until she
+began to speak; now his face stiffened in every outline, and the look
+came over it which always took poor Hilda's courage away.
+
+"We were so happy to-night," she began in a faltering voice--"we had
+quite the best evening we have had since----" here she hesitated.
+
+"Since Judy came," pursued Jasper. "Yes, that goes without saying, there
+were four of us--even the dearest friends are dull when there are three,
+and of course Rivers is capital company, he's quite the best fellow all
+round I ever met."
+
+"Oh, yes!" said Hilda, a little impatiently, "but I don't want to talk
+of him. Jasper dear, let us forget, let us--oh, let us be as we were
+before."
+
+Tears choked her voice, she turned her head away.
+
+"I am so tired," she said suddenly; "I am the sort of girl who wants
+sunshine, I am so tired of being without it."
+
+"When you talk in that metaphorical style I fail to understand you,"
+said Quentyns. "There's not the least cloud between us that I am aware
+of, and if you are not in the sunshine, Hilda, I am afraid it is your
+own fault. I have done everything in my power to meet your wishes. You
+profess great love for me, and great love for your sister, and now you
+have us both, what can you possibly want besides?"
+
+"Only your forgiveness, your complete and full forgiveness."
+
+"I have nothing to forgive, my dear. You do your best--no one can do
+better than their best."
+
+"No," said poor Hilda, with a sigh. She did not add any more.
+
+"I trust you are not going to turn into a fanciful sort of woman," said
+Quentyns, half an hour later. "If there's a person in the world who
+irritates me it's a woman with whims, a woman who has a grievance."
+
+"Oh, no, Jasper! I won't have a grievance," she replied humbly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+THREE IS TRUMPERY.
+
+    The crown must be won for Heaven, dear,
+    In the battle-field of life:
+    My child, though thy foes are strong and tried,
+    He loveth the weak and small;
+    The Angels of Heaven are on thy side,
+    And God is over all!
+
+                    --ADELAIDE PROCTOR.
+
+
+Judy's life was sunshine, and therefore Judy got quickly well; she was
+like the birds and the flowers--give her sunshine enough, and she would
+sing like the birds and bloom like the flowers. Hilda was her sun, and
+now she was always basking herself in the beloved presence. Her cup of
+happiness was full, and such contentment reigned in her little heart
+that no moment was dull to her, and time never hung heavy on her hands.
+
+Hilda was just as sweet and loving as of old, and really, now that she
+lived in the house with him, Jasper, her _bête noire_, the awful big
+brother-in-law who had come and stolen her treasure away, seemed to make
+but little difference in her life; it was almost nicer being with Hilda
+in London than being with Hilda at the old Rectory--she seemed to get
+more undivided attention from her sister than when that sister was the
+Rector's right hand in his busy life, and when Judy had to learn lessons
+with Babs, and walk with stupid, non-comprehending Miss Mills.
+
+Now Judy learned rapidly, for Hilda was her teacher; and how delightful
+that lunch was which was also Judy's early dinner, when she and her
+sister sat _tête-à-tête_, and talked always, always of old times.
+
+If visitors dropped in at tea-time Judy could afford, in her generous
+happiness, to give them a little of her fascinating Hilda's attention,
+for so often now there were heavenly evenings to follow, when that _bête
+noire_ the brother-in-law was not coming home, and the two sisters could
+be alone.
+
+Judy loved the cozy sort of tea-dinners which began those evenings, and
+then the long talk afterward in the lengthening twilight, when she sat
+on a stool at Hilda's feet, with her head pressed up against Hilda's
+arm, and her happy heart beating close to the other heart, which was all
+her world.
+
+On those evenings too Hilda came upstairs and tucked her up in her white
+bed, and said, _Now I lay me down to sleep_ to her, just as she used in
+the old nursery at home, after mother died.
+
+It was an understood thing, although no words had passed between the
+two--it was an understood thing, that on the evenings when Jasper was at
+home, Hilda should not come upstairs to Judy. This seemed a perfectly
+fair and just arrangement, they were both in full accord on the subject;
+but Judy could not help loving those days when she might have her sister
+all to herself the best.
+
+On the morning after Rivers had dined in Philippa Terrace, as Jasper was
+preparing to go out as usual, Hilda ran into the little hall to give him
+a last word; she left the door of the dining room ajar, which was not
+her invariable custom, and Judy, sitting at the breakfast table, found
+herself in the position of an eavesdropper.
+
+"You are coming back to dinner to-night?" asked the wife.
+
+Jasper had been visited with some slight qualms of compunction that
+morning, as he noticed how much paler Hilda's face was than when first
+he had married her, so he put his arm round her neck now, and looking at
+her with something of his old tenderness, said gently:
+
+"Do you really wish it?"
+
+"Jasper, how can you doubt?" she replied. "All the moments you are away
+from me are long and wearisome."
+
+"Long and wearisome," repeated Judy softly to herself in the breakfast
+parlor. Some of the color fled out of her face now; she lost her
+appetite for the bread-and-butter and marmalade which she was eating.
+
+"You don't find three trumpery," pursued Jasper. Then he added with a
+little sigh, "I wish I didn't; but I'll come home, Hilda, if you wish
+it. Good-by, my dear. Stay, stop a moment; suppose I take you to the
+play to-night. Judy won't mind going to bed a little earlier than
+usual."
+
+Just at that moment Hilda started and looked round; she heard a slight
+noise, and wondered if Susan were coming upstairs. The sound which
+disturbed her was made by Judy, who, awaking suddenly to the knowledge
+that she was an eavesdropper, had risen from the breakfast table and had
+gently closed the dining-room door.
+
+"Of course Judy doesn't mind being left," said Hilda in a joyful tone.
+"I should love to go out somewhere with you, Jasper. I really do want a
+little bit of change."
+
+"Very well, my love; I'll take tickets for something amusing, and be
+home to dinner at six."
+
+Quentyns went out, and Hilda danced back to the dining room. Her husband
+had been kind, with something of the old tender kindness, and her heart
+leaped up like a flower answering to the sun.
+
+Judy was standing by the window looking out.
+
+"Isn't it a lovely day, pet?" said Hilda, coming up to her. "Suppose we
+give ourselves a holiday, and go to the Academy together. I have not
+been there yet this year, and you have never been in all your life,
+puss. You know how you love pictures; fancy room after room full of
+pictures--all sorts, good, bad, and indifferent; all colors in them; all
+sorts of subjects depicted on the canvases. There's a treat for my
+little artist--shall I give it her?"
+
+"Yes, Hilda, I'd like to go with you very much."
+
+"Are you tired, dear, your face is so grave?"
+
+"No, darling, I'm not at all tired."
+
+"Well, we'll give ourselves a holiday. Run up and put on your pretty
+green cloak, and that big black hat with the green velvet. I want you to
+look as picturesque as possible. I want to be proud of you."
+
+Judy suddenly flew to Hilda, clasped her arms round her neck, gave her
+a passionate hug, and then rushed out of the room.
+
+"What's the matter with the child?" thought the elder sister for a brief
+moment, "she was so bright yesterday, and even this morning, but now
+she's dull, although she tries to hide it. I wonder if I ought to give
+her some more of her tonic. Well, well, whether Judy is grave or gay, I
+cannot help feeling very happy at the thought of going out with Jasper
+once more."
+
+Hilda gave all directions with regard to the nice little dinner which
+was to precede the play. She found a story book which Judy had not yet
+read, and left it in the drawing room ready for her entertainment when
+she was away; then, dressed also in her best, she went out with her
+little sister, and, calling a hansom from the nearest stand, drove to
+Burlington House.
+
+As usual the great exhibition was crowded with all sorts and conditions
+of men--the fashionable, the studious, the artistic, the ignorant, were
+all to be found there. Judy had a passion for art. She was an artist by
+nature, down to the tips of her sensitive little fingers. No sooner did
+she find herself in the midst of all the pictures, than whatever cloud
+made her a little graver than usual took to itself wings and flew away.
+
+Her pertinent remarks, her eager criticism, shrewd, observant, often
+strangely to the point, aroused the attention of some of the bystanders;
+they smiled as the pretty child and the beautiful girl walked slowly by
+together. Judy's intelligent face was commented on; the pathetic, eager,
+wistful eyes seemed to make their way to more than one heart. Hilda,
+thinking of her evening with Jasper, was quite her old self, and people
+thought what a happy pair the two were.
+
+In the third room they suddenly came face to face with Rivers.
+
+"What a bit of luck!" he said, going up at once to them. "Now, Mrs.
+Quentyns, I shall insist upon taking you to lunch somewhere. Miss Judy,
+how are you? what do you think of our national picture fair?"
+
+"Some of the pictures are lovely," she replied.
+
+"Some!" he retorted, raising his brows. "You don't mean to say you are
+setting yourself up as a critic."
+
+"Judy is an artist by nature," said Hilda for her. "Hark to her remarks
+with regard to the two dogs in that picture."
+
+"They are meant to move, but they are perfectly still," said Judy; "if I
+drew them, I'd"--she puckered her brows--"oh, I'd see that they were
+gamboling about."
+
+A young man, who was standing not far off, turned away with a red
+face--he happened to be the unfortunate artist. Bitter hatred of Judy
+filled his heart, for some of the people who were standing near tittered
+aloud, and remarked for the first time that the dogs were wooden.
+
+Rivers walked with Mrs. Quentyns and Judy through the different rooms:
+he was an art connoisseur himself, and even dabbled in paint in a
+dilettante sort of fashion. He drew Judy on to make remarks, laughed and
+quizzed her for some ideas which he considered in advance of the times,
+for others which were altogether too antiquated for him to pass
+unchallenged.
+
+"Oh, how Stanmore would like to hear you," he remarked, naming one of
+the pet artists of the New Art school. "Why, Judy, you are a democrat;
+we should have no Academy if we listened to you, you little rebel; but
+then, I forgot, of course you are a mutineer--you are true to your
+character through everything."
+
+Hilda scarcely listened as the young man and the child chatted and
+laughed together, her heart was dwelling altogether in the future. She
+fancied herself even now driving to the play by her husband's side; she
+saw the pretty dress she meant to wear; in her mind was reflected as in
+a picture the image of her fair self, and the image also of the man who
+was still in her heart lover as well as husband. No matter for the
+present cloud, he was still her lover. She wondered if he would give her
+another tender glance, and if, as they sat side by side when the curtain
+was up and the actors were moving about on the stage, he would touch her
+hand with his, and show her in that way that she was forgiven.
+
+"If he would only understand that I must keep both my vows," she
+murmured, "if I could only get him to really comprehend that much, much
+as I love my Judy, I would rather be alone with him--that is, I would
+rather be alone with him, if it makes him unhappy to have my sweet
+little Judy in the house. But how happy she is since I brought her home;
+how gay her voice sounds now."
+
+"I said you were a mutineer," laughed Rivers. "I know by your manner
+that you will never put up with the inevitable."
+
+"Don't!" said Judy; Hilda was looking at a lovely landscape, a friend
+she knew came up and spoke to her. "Don't!" said Judy, turning and
+looking full at the young man; her eyes were grave, her childish face
+grew suddenly white and drawn. "Perhaps I am going to give up being a
+mutineer," she murmured.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+A LITTLE GIRL AND A LITTLE CROSS.
+
+    Love that hath us in the net,
+    Can he pass, and we forget?
+    Many suns arise and set,
+    Many a chance the years beget.
+    Love the gift is love the debt.
+                      Even so.
+
+    Love is hurt with jar and fret.
+    Love is made a vague regret.
+    Eyes with idle tears are wet.
+    Idle habit links us yet,
+    What is love? for we forget:
+                  Ah, no! no!
+
+                    --TENNYSON.
+
+
+Mrs. Quentyns and Judy enjoyed their lunch with Rivers. They went into
+the Park afterward for a short time, and then Hilda, remembering that
+the hours were flying, and that she must be dressed and ready to receive
+her husband before six that evening, bade the young man a hasty good-by,
+and drove home with Judy.
+
+"I am so glad you are going to the play," said the little girl. "Why
+don't you often go--why don't you constantly go out in the evening?"
+
+"If I did, Judy, what a dull time you'd have."
+
+"You're quite mistaken, Hilda; I shouldn't be dull at all. You don't
+know how I like story-books, and Susan is such a nice girl. She has got
+brothers and sisters at home, and she tells me about them when you are
+out. I am never lonely; I couldn't possibly be sad in the same house
+with you. If I saw you once or twice a day it would be enough for me--it
+would really."
+
+"My dear little pet," laughed Hilda, "how solemnly you are talking, what
+a frightfully earnest tone has got into your voice, and how you are
+puckering your poor little forehead. I have only one thing to say in
+reply to your generous wish to leave me so much by myself, namely, that
+I should find it extremely inconvenient and extremely lonely to have you
+in the house and only see you twice a day."
+
+"But suppose I weren't with you at all, Hilda--suppose I were still at
+the Rectory."
+
+"That would be different," said Hilda, in a light tone; "you would be in
+your natural home, and I----"
+
+"But you _would_ be lonely if I were away from you, Hilda; do say you'd
+be fearfully lonely!"
+
+The passion in Judy's voice was unnoticed by Hilda.
+
+"I'd miss you, of course, my pet," she said; "but I do declare that
+stupid driver is taking us wrong. Oh, if he goes up that way it will be
+such a round that I shall be late for Jasper's dinner. Poke your parasol
+through the little window in the roof, Judy, and stop him, do."
+
+Judy obeyed, the driver received his directions in due course, and a
+moment or two later Hilda and Judy were standing in the little hall at
+Philippa Terrace. Quentyns came suddenly forward.
+
+"Why, Jasper, you have come back already," said the wife. "It isn't five
+yet, but I--I can dress in no time. Have you got the tickets?--where are
+we going?"
+
+"Come into the drawing room, Hilda, I want to say a word to you," said
+Quentyns.
+
+"Run upstairs and take your things off, Judy," said Hilda. She followed
+her husband into the little drawing room and shut the door. "Well?" she
+said. Her voice was still gay, but a little, just a little, of the old
+fear was creeping back into her heart.
+
+"I am ever so sorry, Hilda, to disappoint you," said Quentyns, "but when
+I went to town this morning I absolutely forgot an engagement I made a
+week ago. I have to go down with two or three men to Richmond. We are to
+dine at the Star and Garter, and afterward Philip Danvers has asked me
+to go home with him. The Danvers are charming people--have a beautiful
+house on the river, and everything in the best possible style. I should
+rather like to cultivate them. It is never a good plan to throw over
+friends who may be influential; still, if you really wish it, Hilda,
+I'll come home to-night and make some sort of excuse to Danvers--wire to
+him that I am ill, or something of the kind. Of course it is too late
+for me to get tickets for the play, but if you would like me to stay at
+home, I'll--I'll do it--so there!"
+
+Hilda's face, which had been white, was now flushed.
+
+"Why didn't you tell me this morning?" she said. "Why did you forget? I
+spent a day of hope, and now--now----" Her eyes filled with sudden
+tears, she bit her lips and turned away.
+
+Her action, which seemed almost pettish, annoyed Quentyns.
+
+"You needn't cry," he said. "I never supposed you could be so childish.
+Do you think I forgot on purpose? I was looking forward to my time at
+Richmond, but it slipped my memory that this was the day. You needn't
+cry, however, for if you have suddenly taken such a frantic desire for
+my society, it is at your service. I shall go out and wire to Danvers,
+and be back again in half an hour."
+
+After all, Mrs. Quentyns had plenty of self-control. The annoyance and
+distress in her voice had altogether left it when she spoke again.
+
+"Of course you must go, Jasper," she said. "You don't suppose for a
+quarter of an instant that I should stand in your way. Let me go up with
+you and help you to put the things you want into a bag, and you will
+want some tea before you start. I'll ring and tell Susan to prepare it.
+Now come along, dear; I'm glad of course that you are having this
+pleasure."
+
+As Hilda ran upstairs her manner was once more quite cheerful. Quentyns,
+however, whose conscience was smiting him, although he didn't know it,
+could not help acting more or less like a bear with a sore head.
+
+"I shouldn't have accepted the invitation," he said, "upon my word I
+shouldn't, did I not know that you would have Judy to keep you company.
+You know I haven't that passion for children you have, and----"
+
+The door was closed behind the two.
+
+"Don't say any more," said Hilda, in a frightened sort of voice. "I told
+you I was glad that you were to have the pleasure. Now which bag will
+you take? Will the small Gladstone be large enough?"
+
+Ten minutes later Quentyns had left the house in a hansom, and Hilda
+went up to Judy's room.
+
+"Come downstairs, darling," she said, "we are to have another long
+evening all to ourselves. What a good thing I've got my sweet little
+sister to stay at home with me. Judy, this was to be a festive night,
+and I had quite a festive dinner prepared. Suppose we keep the occasion,
+although we are only to be by ourselves. You shall dine with me
+to-night, Judy, and we'll both dress for dinner. You shall wear white,
+for you look so sweet in white, and I'll do the same."
+
+"Have you got the old India muslin dress that you used to wear at the
+Rectory before--before there was a Jasper?" said Judy, in a queer,
+steady kind of little voice. "If you have that old India muslin that
+father loved and Aunt Marjorie loved, and that Babs and I used always to
+say you looked like an angel in, will you put it on to-night,
+Hilda?--will you wear that dress once again?"
+
+"What a queer thing!" replied Hilda. "I never threw the old muslin away.
+I think I can poke it out of some depths somewhere; and it is so soft
+that, if I shake it out and hang it up for about half an hour, it will
+be quite presentable. Yon funny Judy, why do you wish to see me in that
+dress?"
+
+"You were all mine when you wore that dress last," said Judy.
+
+"I am always yours, my dearest. But don't let us talk sentiment; let us
+make ourselves smart, and let us come downstairs and be happy. We'll
+imagine that we are at a very gay party; heaps and heaps of other people
+in the room, but we two, as is sometimes the case, are more or less
+alone in the crowd. We are so completely one that other people scarcely
+affect us. We can talk together, and whisper old secrets about the
+garden, and Babs, and the animals, and the organ in the church, and the
+funny chorister-boy who would never sing in tune; we can talk of all
+these things, although there are throngs and throngs around us, for in a
+crowd those who love each other often find the best sort of solitude.
+Come down, Judy, come down, and let's be happy!"
+
+"How flushed you are, Hilda; are you well?"
+
+"Yes; I never felt better."
+
+"You look awfully pretty; you look quite lovely."
+
+"What a dear little flatterer you are! Does it really matter whether I
+look pretty or not? Aunt Marjorie would scold you, child, for praising
+my looks to my face; she would say you were encouraging vanity."
+
+"And I should tell her to her face that I was not," answered Judy
+stoutly. "It's right to look beautiful; it's copying the flowers. Now
+run and put on your India muslin dress, Hilda."
+
+Hilda left the room, and half an hour later the two sisters met in the
+little drawing room. There were fresh flowers in the vases; and a great
+bowl of primroses, which Aunt Marjorie had sent from the Rectory, was
+placed on the little table in the square bay-window.
+
+Judy in her white dress stood near the flowers. She took up one, and in
+an absent sort of fashion pulled it to pieces. Susan announced dinner,
+and the sisters dined together in great state, and with apparent
+enjoyment. Hilda joked about everything, and Judy, catching up her
+spirit, did likewise.
+
+"Let us imagine, just for to-night, that I am grown-up," she said;
+"treat me as if I were your grown sister--not your little
+sister--Hilda."
+
+Hilda felt in the humor to comply with any request Judy made.
+
+"We will have our coffee in the drawing room," she said. "Black coffee
+for me, please, Susan, but bring in a little jug of cream for Miss
+Judy's. Now, dearest," turning to the child, "don't forget that the play
+is going on; we have dined out with numbers, oh, numbers of guests, and
+now we are in the large assembly-room, alone in the crowd, happy because
+we are together."
+
+Judy had thrown herself back into a deep arm-chair in the little drawing
+room while Hilda was speaking; her eyes had a sort of starry radiance
+about them, her cheeks were slightly flushed, her cloudy soft brown hair
+was thrown back from her white brow.
+
+Hilda moved about the room; she was restless notwithstanding the
+enforced calm she was putting upon herself. Judy smiled when Hilda
+spoke, but in her heart certain words kept repeating themselves--they
+had repeated themselves like a sort of mournful echo in that poor little
+heart all day.
+
+"All the moments you are away from me are long and wearisome," Hilda had
+said to her husband. "All the moments."
+
+And then he had said to her:
+
+"You don't find three trumpery. I wish I didn't!"
+
+"So I'm the trumpery," thought Judy to herself. "I'm three. And all the
+moments while Hilda is away from Jasper are long and wearisome. Poor
+Hilda! poor darling! how well she hid it all from me; how good, how very
+good she has been to me; but I'm glad I know. It was a lucky, a very
+lucky thing that the door of the breakfast room was left slightly open
+this morning, and so I was able to hear Jasper's words."
+
+"How silent you are, dearest," said Hilda, looking at the child.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said Judy, jumping up. "I was thinking."
+
+"Think aloud then, sweet. Let me share your pretty thoughts."
+
+"But they are not pretty, Hilda; and I think I'd rather no one shared
+them. Now let us talk about old times--about the dear old times before
+there was a Jasper."
+
+"Judy," said Hilda, "there is just one thing I should like to say to
+you. Even if it gives you pain, I ought to remind you, my darling, that
+Jasper is my husband; that I love him. Oh! Judy, Judy, my heart aches
+with love to him. My heart aches because I love my husband so much."
+
+Judy clenched her hands; a great wave of crimson swept over her face.
+Hilda had hidden her own face in her hands, and did not notice the
+child's agitation. Presently the little sister's hand softly touched her
+forehead.
+
+"And you're lonely to-night, poor Hilda, because your Jasper is away?"
+
+"Yes, Judy, it's true. I'm afraid even to tell you how lonely I am."
+
+"And you've been trying to seem cheerful, just to please me."
+
+"And to please myself too," said Hilda, starting up and wiping the tears
+from her eyes. "There, we won't talk about it any more; we'll go on
+pretending that we are having an awfully jolly time."
+
+"You're very brave, Hilda," said Judy; "and when people are brave,
+things generally come right. Now, may I sit on your knee, just as if I
+were a baby instead of a tall girl with long legs? _I_ wouldn't make you
+unhappy, Hilda darling. When there's an inevitable I must face it; I
+must, and you will see that I will. Jack the Giant Killer shan't beat
+_me_ over difficulties when I've made up my mind."
+
+"Judy, your face is flushed, and your eyes are too bright; that strong
+coffee was bad for you, you won't sleep to-night."
+
+"I dare say I shan't sleep; but now let us talk of old times."
+
+"Only for a few moments, dear; you look so excited that I shall not
+rest until I see you safely in bed."
+
+Judy laughed, and declared stoutly that she never felt better.
+
+Half an hour afterward she went up to her pretty little bedroom, Hilda
+promising to follow her in about a quarter of an hour, if she possibly
+could.
+
+When the elder sister entered the room, she found Judy standing by her
+bed in her frilled night-dress.
+
+"You will get cold, love--do get into bed," said Hilda.
+
+"I want to say my prayers to you, Hilda, if you don't mind," said Judy,
+"just as I used when I was a very little girl."
+
+"Of course, darling, if you wish it."
+
+Hilda sat down, and the little sister knelt at her knee.
+
+The old baby prayers were said aloud; but suddenly, in the midst of
+them, Judy bent her head and murmured something which Hilda could not
+hear.
+
+She jumped up a moment later and put her arms round her sister's neck.
+
+"You won't be lonely long, Hilda," she said. "It will be all right;
+you'll see it will be as right as possible. I am glad you are fond of
+Jasper. I am really, really, awfully glad."
+
+"Good-night, my darling," said Hilda, kissing her. She went out of the
+room with tears in her eyes.
+
+"Poor little Judy, how little she knows," thought the elder sister; "how
+very little she knows what a cloud there is between Jasper and me. Oh,
+if it goes on much longer, I think my heart will break!"
+
+In the meantime, in her pretty white bed, Judy was murmuring an old text
+to herself:
+
+"He that taketh not up his cross and followeth after Me, cannot be My
+disciple."
+
+Once, long ago, the Rector had explained this text, or rather given a
+shadow of its meaning to the child.
+
+"Followeth after Me," she murmured; and a vision came to her of One who,
+in the great cause of Love, had taken up His cross, even to death.
+
+She wiped the tears from her eyes, and fell asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+JUDY'S SECRET.
+
+    Be strong to _hope_, oh, Heart!
+      Though day is bright,
+    The stars can only shine
+      In the dark night.
+    Be strong, oh, Heart of mine,
+      Look towards the light!
+
+                    --ADELAIDE PROCTOR.
+
+
+The next morning Judy was down specially early to breakfast.
+
+Her cheeks were slightly more flushed than usual, and her eyes, to
+anyone who watched them closely, had a determined, almost hard,
+expression in them. Hilda, however, was too much occupied with her own
+sad thoughts to take any special notice of the child.
+
+"You look well, Judy," she said, giving a quick glance at her. "Now come
+to breakfast, dear, I've a good deal to do afterward."
+
+"Are you going out, Hilda?" asked Judy.
+
+"No, I'm going to be busy all the morning over my accounts; they've got
+into the most disgraceful muddle, and I want to put them straight. I
+shall be in the drawing room, for I keep all my household books in the
+davenport there. I mean to give you a holiday, Judy, but perhaps you
+won't mind reading some of your history to yourself, and doing a few
+sums this morning."
+
+"Of course not," said Judy brightly. "Shall I make you some toast,
+Hilda? This in the toast-rack is so soft and flabby--do let me, Hilda."
+
+"If you like, dear, you may. It is lucky there is a fire, but I must
+tell cook to discontinue them, the weather is getting so warm."
+
+Judy was an adept at making toast, and it was an old fashion at the
+Rectory that Hilda's toast should be made by her, on those blissful
+red-letter days when the elder sister had tea with the little ones in
+the nursery.
+
+Judy wondered as she delicately browned that toast, and scorched her own
+little cheeks, if Hilda would remember the old days, and the toast which
+she used to make her; but Mrs. Quentyns seemed to be in a sort of brown
+study that morning, and thanked the child absently when the crisp hot
+toast was put on her plate.
+
+"Jasper will be home quite early to-day, won't he, Hilda?" inquired
+Judy.
+
+"I don't know, Judy--yes, I suppose so."
+
+"I'm sure he'll be home early," repeated Judy with confidence; "perhaps
+he'll take you to the play to-night, and perhaps you'll be awfully
+happy."
+
+"Oh, don't talk about it, Judy," said Hilda, in a weary voice; "we must
+all make up our minds to face the fact that there's a great deal _more_
+than mere happiness in the world. What is happiness? It's only a small
+part of life."
+
+"I don't think it is going to be a small part of your life, Hilda; but
+now I'm not going to idle you any more, for you want to get to your
+accounts."
+
+Judy ran out of the room. As she was going slowly upstairs, she paused
+once to say softly to herself:
+
+"It's all happening beautifully; I ought to be glad. Of course I am
+glad. '_He that taketh not up his cross._' I'm glad that text keeps
+running in my head, it makes me so nice and strong."
+
+Susan was doing out Judy's room when the little girl ran into it. Judy
+was fond of Susan, and Susan of her, and the girl stopped her work now
+to listen to the child's eager words.
+
+"Susan, do you think Mrs. Quentyns would let you come out with me for a
+little this morning, for about an hour or an hour and a half?"
+
+"Well, miss," said Susan, "it aint Monday, which is the day to get ready
+for the laundry, nor yet Wednesday, when I turns out the drawing room,
+nor Friday, which is silver day--there's nothing special for Thursday; I
+should think I could go with you, Miss Judy, and it will be a treat to
+take you about. Is it Mme. Tussand's you has a hankerin' for, Miss?"
+
+"No, no, Susan, I'm not going to any exhibition; it's a secret--I'll
+tell you when we're out."
+
+"The Doré Gallery, perhaps?" suggested Susan.
+
+"No, it's nothing of that sort; I'll tell you when we're out."
+
+"Very well, miss, I'm proud to be at your service whatever it is."
+
+"I'll run down now and ask my sister if you may come with me, Susan."
+
+Judy threw her arms round Hilda as she was coming up from the kitchen
+premises.
+
+"Hilda, the day is so fine!"
+
+"No, Judy, you mustn't tempt me to go out. I really have to get those
+accounts straight, they quite weigh on my mind."
+
+"So you shall, Hilda darling; but I was wondering if after I've read my
+history and done my sums, and a little bit of writing I want to get
+through, if you'd let Susan--if you'd let Susan take me out."
+
+"Susan!" repeated Hilda, "but I can go with you myself this afternoon."
+
+"I know, only I do so want a run on this fine morning, and Susan says
+it's not laundry day, nor drawing-room day, nor silver day; it's
+Thursday, which is nothing special; she can come, may she, Hilda?--do
+say yes."
+
+"It's not like you, Judy," said Hilda, "to be in this impatient state. I
+would rather you did not propose plans to the servants without first
+consulting me, darling, it rather puts them out of their place; but as
+you have done it, and as you are the best of dear little girls, I
+suppose I must say 'yes' on this occasion. If Susan hurries with her
+work, she may take you out: but of course you won't be very long, will
+you?"
+
+To this question Judy made no reply. She gave Hilda a tight clasp and a
+fierce kiss, and rushed away.
+
+"Susan, you're to hurry with your work, for you may come," she shouted,
+almost boisterously, to the parlor-maid, and then she ran down to the
+dining room and shut the door behind her.
+
+"It's happening beautifully," she murmured again; "how lucky that I
+never spent godmother's sovereign. And now to write my letter to Hilda.
+I'm not going to waste my time crying, there'll be time enough for that
+by and by--that's if I want to cry, perhaps I shan't. When I think of
+how very happy Hilda will be, perhaps my heart will sing. But now for
+the letter--Hilda mustn't find it too soon; I'll put it under her
+pin-cushion, then perhaps she won't see it for some hours after I've
+gone, but now I must write it."
+
+Judy took out her own little blotting-book, placed a sheet of paper
+before her, and began laboriously, with little fingers which rapidly got
+ink-stained, to put a few words on the paper.
+
+    "DARLING HILDA,
+
+    "You'll be s'prised when you get this. I'm going home. I'm quite
+    well now, and I'm not going to fret, but I'm going to be
+    _really_ happy. Good-by, Hilda; I love you awfully.
+
+                    "Your
+                          "JUDY."
+
+This little note was put into an envelope, and sealed with some precious
+red wax, and before she left the house Judy found an opportunity to put
+it under Hilda's pin-cushion.
+
+"It doesn't tell her a bit what I think, nor what I feel," murmured the
+poor child. "But it's best for her just to suppose that I _want_ to go
+home. She'll be happy all the sooner if she thinks that."
+
+Susan was rather elated at escaping housework, and at being allowed to
+go out so early in the morning. She was especially fond of Judy, and
+would do anything in the world for her. Now, therefore, principally on
+Judy's account, but also in the hope that the baker might happen to see
+her as she passed his shop, she put on her very smartest hat and her
+very best jacket, and patiently waited in the front hall for Judy's
+appearance.
+
+Hilda came out of the drawing room to see the two as they went off.
+
+"You had better take an omnibus, and get out at Kensington Gardens," she
+said to the maid. "I shall expect you back in time to get lunch ready,
+Susan. Judy pet, give me a kiss before you go."
+
+Judy had lost her roses now, her face was pale, and there were dark
+shadows under her big eyes. Her little voice, however, had a very stout,
+determined tone about it.
+
+"Good-by, Hilda," she said; "one kiss--two, three kisses, Hilda; it is
+good of you to let us out,--and we are going to be so jolly. Good-by,
+darling Hilda."
+
+"Good-by, Judy," said Hilda.
+
+She kissed the child, but in a pre-occupied manner--the cloud which
+weighed on her heart was oppressing her, and dulling her usually keen
+perceptions where Judy was concerned.
+
+"It's all the better," thought the little girl, "it's easier to say
+good-by when she's not extra loving."
+
+Hilda went back to her accounts, and Judy and Susan walked down the
+terrace, and turning the corner were lost to view.
+
+They had gone on a little way, and Susan was about to hail a passing
+omnibus, when Judy suddenly put her hand on the servant's arm.
+
+"Susan," she said, "I am going to tell you the secret now. You'll be
+_sure_ to keep it?"
+
+"Well, of course, miss, I'll do my best--I hope I aint one of the
+blabbing sort."
+
+"I don't think you are, Susan--you look as if a person could trust you.
+I'm going to trust you with a most important thing."
+
+"Very well, miss--I'll be proud I'm sure; but hadn't we better stop that
+'bus--there's the conductor looking at us."
+
+"Does that 'bus go in the direction of Waterloo Station?" asked Judy.
+
+"Waterloo--bless you, Miss Judy--I don't know whether it do or not. I
+don't s'pose so for a quarter of a minute. Waterloo is miles from
+here--that I do know. But it's nothing to us where Waterloo is, miss,
+it's to Kensington Gardens we're going, and the 'bus has gone on now, so
+there's no good our worrying ourselves about it. Another will pass us in
+a minute. There are plenty half empty at this hour of the day."
+
+"I wish you would stop talking, Susan, and let me explain what I mean,"
+said Judy, almost fretfully. "It's to Waterloo I want to go, not to
+Kensington Gardens. Do you hear me--do you understand what I'm saying?"
+
+"I suppose you're joking me, Miss Judy. My missis said we were to go to
+Kensington Gardens."
+
+"Please, Susan, stop for a minute. I want to say something very
+important. _I am going home._ That's the secret. I am going home to Aunt
+Marjorie and to father, and my little sister Babs, and the way home is
+by Waterloo, so I must get there. Now do you understand? That's the
+secret--I am going home to-day."
+
+Judy's face was so pale, and her words so intensely earnest, that Susan
+saw at last that the secret was no joking matter, but something real and
+hard to bear.
+
+"Now I wonder what the little dear is up to," she said under her breath.
+
+"You know, Miss Judy, pet," she replied aloud in as soothing a voice as
+she could command, "that you don't really mean to run away like
+that,--for it is running away to go back to your home, and never say a
+word to Mrs. Quentyns, and she so wrapped up in you, and your room
+furnished so prettily and all."
+
+Judy had to gulp down a sob before she answered Susan.
+
+"I didn't expect you to understand me," she said with a dignity which
+made a deep impression on the maid. "I'm not running away, and I'm doing
+right not wrong. You don't suppose it's always very pleasant to do
+right, but sometimes one can't think about what's pleasant. I wouldn't
+have asked you to help me at all, Susan, but I don't know how to get to
+Waterloo Station. Of course I came from there with my sister, but I
+didn't notice the road we took, nor anything about it. I know we were a
+long time in a cab, so I suppose the station is a good way from Philippa
+Terrace. What you have got to do now, Susan, is to obey me, and not to
+ask any questions. I really know what I'm about, and I promise that you
+shan't get into any trouble."
+
+But to Judy's surprise Susan was firm.
+
+"I won't have hand nor part in the matter," she said; "I was told to
+take you to Kensington Gardens, miss, and it's there we've got to go,
+or we'll turn round and go back to Philippa Terrace."
+
+For a moment or two Judy felt afraid that all her plans were in
+jeopardy. She might of course call a cab on her own account, and trust
+the driver to take her safely to her destination; but brave as she was,
+she had scarcely courage for this extreme step; besides, the driver of
+the hansom might take it into his head to listen to Susan's strong
+objections, and even if he did obey Judy, Susan would go back to
+Philippa Terrace, and tell Hilda everything, and then Hilda would follow
+Judy to Waterloo, and prevent her going home at all.
+
+The strongest feeling in the child's mind was a desire to be safe back
+in the Rectory before Hilda knew anything about her determination.
+
+"Then she can't do anything," thought Judy. "She'll have nothing for it
+but to make herself quite happy with Jasper again."
+
+Suddenly an idea came to her.
+
+"I won't argue with you any more, Susan," she said. "I suppose you
+_think_ you are doing right, and if you do, of course I can't expect you
+to act in any other way. If you knew everything that is in my heart, I
+am quite sure you would help me; but as you don't, I must think of
+something else. You know Mr. Rivers, don't you--the gentleman who dined
+at Philippa Terrace two nights ago?"
+
+"Yes, miss, of course."
+
+"My sister and I took lunch with him yesterday," continued Judy. "He is
+a very nice gentleman; he's a great friend of Mr. Quentyns."
+
+"Oh, yes, miss, I'm aware," replied the maid.
+
+"He lives in chambers," continued Judy. "I don't in the least know what
+chambers means; but he asked me to go and see him some day and have
+lunch with him. He wrote his address on a piece of paper and gave it to
+me, and I have it in my purse. My sister said I might certainly lunch
+with Mr. Rivers. Now, Susan, I intend to go to him to-day. So please
+call a hansom, and I shall drive there at once. You can come or not as
+you please. If you prefer it you can go home; but of course I'd rather
+you came with me."
+
+Susan deliberated. Certainly Miss Judy was in a very queer condition,
+and it would be as much as her place was worth to take her to Waterloo;
+but to drive with her to the chambers of that nice gentleman who was,
+she knew, one of her master's greatest friends, seemed a shifting of
+responsibility which was quite a way out of the dilemma, for not for
+worlds would Susan do anything really to hurt the child's feelings.
+
+"All right, miss," she said after a pause; "even that seems queer
+enough, but Mr. Rivers can explain matters himself to my missis. Here's
+a nice 'ansom with a steady horse. Stop, driver, please, stop! Draw up
+here by the lamp-post. Now, miss, shall I get in first and give you a
+hand?"
+
+"No, Susan; I can get into a hansom without anyone helping me."
+
+"Drive to No. 10 Johnson's Court, Lincoln's Inn Fields," said Judy, in a
+clear voice to the man; and then she and Susan found themselves bowling
+away farther and farther from West Kensington, from Judy's pretty
+bedroom, from Hilda and her love.
+
+In an incredibly short space of time they arrived at their destination;
+the driver pulled up his horse at No. 10 Johnson's Court, with an
+_esprit_ which Judy would have much admired had her thoughts been less
+pre-occupied.
+
+She jumped out with alacrity, declining Susan's assistance, and asked
+the man what his fare was. He named a sum which Susan took into her head
+to consider exorbitant, and which she loudly objected to Judy's paying;
+but the little girl gave it without a moment's hesitation, and the next
+instant was running up the stairs to Rivers' chambers.
+
+What might have happened had that gentleman been out no one can say;
+Judy's heroic impulse might after all have come to nothing, and Jasper
+might still have had to complain of that three, which means trumpery,
+invading his house; but it so happened that Rivers was in, and, busy man
+that he was, comparatively disengaged. When Judy inquired for him he was
+standing in his clerk's room, giving some directions. At the sound of
+her voice he looked up, and with a start and smile of delight came
+forward to welcome her.
+
+"I am very glad to see you," he said; "how kind of you to remember your
+promise."
+
+Then, seeing by her face that Judy's poor little heart was very full, he
+took her into his private room, and desired Susan to wait in the clerk's
+room.
+
+"Now, Jack the Giant Killer, what is it?" said Rivers; "what's the
+matter?"
+
+"I told you," said Judy; "I told you yesterday, that _perhaps_ I was
+going to stop being a mutineer. Well, I have stopped. I thought you'd
+like to know."
+
+"So I do, Judy," said Rivers. "I am proud to be acquainted with a
+little girl who has such immense control over herself. I should like to
+hear how you have contrived to get out of the state of rebellion into
+the state of submission. I know of course that you have been killing a
+giant, but I am interested in the process."
+
+"I'm killing the giant by going home," said Judy, standing very erect by
+Rivers' table, and pushing back her shady hat from her white forehead.
+"I am going home, back to Little Staunton Rectory. I see what you mean,
+that it's better--better for Jasper and Hilda, to be without--without
+_me_. I pretended not to understand you the other night, but I don't
+pretend any longer now; and yesterday evening, when Hilda and I were all
+alone, for Jasper had gone away down to Richmond, I--I made up my mind.
+Hilda doesn't know anything about it."
+
+"Sit down, Judy," said Rivers. "I cannot tell you how I respect you."
+
+[Illustration: "I'D RATHER STAND, PLEASE." P. 222.]
+
+"I'd rather stand, please," said Judy. "Hilda doesn't know," she
+continued, "and she _mustn't_ know until I am safe back at Little
+Staunton Rectory. Susan--you know Susan, she's Hilda's parlor-maid;
+well, Susan came out with me this morning, and I coaxed her very hard to
+take me to Waterloo, but she refused. I don't quite know how to get
+there by myself, so now I want to know if you will take me?"
+
+"Certainly I will," said Rivers. "What is more, I'll go with you to the
+Rectory. I have nothing special to do to-day, and it will be quite a
+pleasure to spend a little time in your company. Do you know anything
+about the trains, and what is the name of the station we have to go to?"
+
+Judy named the one nearest to the Rectory.
+
+"You had better sit down for a moment," pursued Rivers. "I have an 'A B
+C' here, so I can tell you in a moment which is the best train to take.
+Now, what is the matter?"
+
+"Only, Mr. Rivers, Hilda must not know anything--anything about it until
+I am safe home. Can this be managed?"
+
+"I have very little doubt that it can. I shall go out now and speak to
+Susan and send her away. Thank you, Judy, for coming to me; I would do
+anything for you, because you are brave, and I respect and admire all
+brave people."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+GIANT-KILLER.
+
+    And the Prince, seeing that it was of no use to remonstrate,
+    bowed and retired.
+
+                    --THE GOLDEN BRANCH.
+
+
+Susan came home and told her mistress that Judy was spending the day
+with Mr. Rivers.
+
+"What an extraordinary thing for the child to do!" said Hilda.
+
+"She said, ma'am, that Mr. Rivers asked her to lunch, and that you knew
+about it."
+
+"Yes; but why did she not say something to me when she was going out? It
+is so unlike Miss Judy to keep a thing of that sort to herself."
+
+Susan made no reply. She was no longer responsible, and was only too
+anxious not to betray the child.
+
+"Mr. Rivers says he'll take the best care of her, ma'am," she said,
+after a pause.
+
+"Well, go and take off your hat, Susan, and lay the lunch," said Hilda,
+feeling still more puzzled, but not caring to pursue her inquiries any
+further.
+
+She had a sense of aggrievement and a feeling of added loneliness as she
+sat down to her solitary lunch. She missed Judy, and wondered at her
+sudden want of confidence; but soon the deeper trouble which Jasper's
+conduct had caused returned to trouble her, and she forgot her little
+sister in the sadness of her thoughts.
+
+She spent a long and very lonely afternoon indoors, for she had not the
+heart to go out, and besides, she expected Judy home every minute.
+
+She thought it likely that Rivers would take her somewhere after lunch,
+but surely he would bring her back to Philippa Terrace in time for tea.
+Hilda ordered some cakes which she knew were special favorites of Judy's
+to be ready for this meal; and then she sat in her pretty little drawing
+room, and tried to divert her thoughts over the pages of the latest
+novel which had arrived from Mudie's.
+
+It was either not specially interesting, or Hilda found it difficult to
+concentrate her attention. She flung the book on her knee, and sat
+absorbed in what Judy and Babs called a brown study. She was startled
+out of her meditations by Susan bringing in the tea-tray and the little
+kettle and spirit-lamp.
+
+"Did Mr. Rivers say when he would bring Miss Judy home?" she asked of
+the maid.
+
+Susan colored and hesitated slightly in her reply.
+
+"No, ma'am; he said nothing at all about coming home," she answered.
+
+Hilda noticed her hesitation, but did not wish to question her further.
+After the servant left the room, however, she began for the first time
+to feel both impatient and uneasy with regard to her little sister.
+
+"If Judy is not here by six o'clock," she said to herself, "I will go to
+Lincoln's Inn Fields in search of her. How extraordinarily impatient she
+was to go out this morning; and how very odd of her to insist on going
+to Mr. Rivers', and to say nothing at all to me about it; and then how
+queer--how more than queer--her not having yet returned. My sweet little
+Judy, the most thoughtful child who ever breathed--it is unlike her to
+cause me anxiety of this sort."
+
+Hilda did not care for the social little meal which was generally so
+lively when Judy was present. Immediately afterward she ran upstairs to
+put on her bonnet and jacket; and as she was going out, left a message
+with Susan.
+
+"If Miss Judy and Mr. Rivers come," she said, "please say that I have
+gone to Lincoln's Inn Fields, as I felt anxious about the child being
+so long away."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said the servant.
+
+"Whistle for a hansom for me, please, Susan."
+
+Susan did so; and half an hour afterward Hilda was making inquiries at
+Rivers' chambers with regard to his whereabouts. The clerks there could
+give her no definite information. Mr. Rivers had gone out with a little
+lady soon after twelve o'clock, and had told them not to expect him back
+that day.
+
+"I shall find Judy at Philippa Terrace when I go home," thought Mrs.
+Quentyns. "It was thoughtless of her not to tell me how long she would
+be out--it was wonderfully unlike her. Still, of course, she will be at
+home now."
+
+But when Hilda returned no Judy was there to greet her; but her
+husband's face was seen looking somewhat impatiently out at the
+drawing-room window. He came at once to help his wife out of the cab,
+and entered the house with her.
+
+"Where were you?" he asked. "It is nearly time for dinner."
+
+"I won't be a moment getting dressed, Jasper; but--but--I am anxious
+about Judy."
+
+Quentyns had meant to be specially nice and kind to Hilda after his
+evening's pleasure, but he felt it impossible now to keep the glib,
+sarcastic words back.
+
+"I might have known when I saw that fretful look on your face, that Judy
+was the cause. Now, what is her latest transgression?"
+
+"Oh, there is a telegraph-boy," said Hilda eagerly. "What--what--oh,
+_is_ there anything wrong?"
+
+She rushed to the hall-door herself, before Jasper could prevent her.
+Susan, coming into the hall to answer the imperative double knock, was
+sent back to the kitchen regions, in a cross voice, by her master.
+
+"Really, Hilda," began Quentyns, "your impetuosity is most undignified.
+I must say that these kinds of scenes are----Now, what is the matter,
+my love--tears again. A coming home of this sort is not the most
+cheerful sort of thing, you must allow."
+
+"Oh, Jasper, Jasper, I'm not even listening to you," said poor Hilda.
+"What can be the matter? what can be wrong? Here's a telegram from Mr.
+Rivers. He says--see what he says.
+
+"'Little Staunton Rectory. Have brought Judy home. Will call and see you
+soon after ten this evening. Rivers.'"
+
+"Rivers!" repeated Jasper.
+
+His voice grew thoughtful; he did not like Rivers, of all men, to be
+mixed up in his domestic affairs. Rivers, at least, must keep him on a
+pedestal, and know nothing of his weaknesses--of that infirmity of
+temper which he struggled against, and yet, in Judy's presence, could
+not conquer. He forgot all about Judy herself in his wonder as to how
+Rivers had got mixed up in the matter.
+
+Hilda had seated herself on the sofa, and still holding the open
+telegram in her hand, was trying furtively to wipe away her fast-falling
+tears.
+
+"I wish you'd stop crying, Hilda," said her husband. "There's nothing to
+alarm you in this telegram--nothing whatever. If Judy is with a man like
+Tom Rivers, she's as safe as child can be."
+
+"But she has gone home, Jasper; she has gone home to the Rectory,
+without even telling me."
+
+"Well, my dear, it's impossible for me to explain away the vagaries of
+that most eccentric child. I presume, however, that Rivers has a key to
+the mystery, and as he says he will call here after ten o'clock, we
+shall know all about it then. No amount of discussion can explain it in
+advance. So, Hilda, perhaps you will go upstairs and get ready for
+dinner. I'm frightfully hungry."
+
+Hilda rose wearily and left the room at once.
+
+"I think I can guess something--just something of what it means," she
+said to herself. "My little Judy--my brave little Judy!"
+
+Judy's letter was lying hidden all this time under the large pin-cushion
+on Hilda's dressing table, but as it was not seen, its contents, which
+would have explained a good deal, were of course not known.
+
+The dinner which followed this unhappy beginning of the evening was as
+dismal and constrained as if poor "trumpery" were still present.
+
+Quentyns, like most men who work hard all day, was particular about this
+meal, and to-night of all nights cook had not sent up the soup to his
+satisfaction, nor the _entrée_ seasoned to his taste. It was all one to
+Hilda just now what she ate, but Quentyns pushed his plate impatiently
+away, and kept on referring to the excellent dinner he had had the night
+before at the Star and Garter. He spoke of his evening as delightful,
+and of the house of the new friend where he had slept as altogether
+irreproachable.
+
+Hilda felt that he was talking at her all the time, but she had not the
+heart to reply to him. The dismal little meal came to a mournful end,
+and the two went into the drawing room to wait for Rivers' arrival.
+
+Hilda took up a handkerchief she was embroidering for Judy, and took
+special pleasure in putting in new and exquisite stitches as her
+thoughts centered themselves in dull wonder and pain round the child.
+Quentyns became absorbed in the contents of a novel. He read for half an
+hour--he was by no means in a good humor, and now and then his eyes were
+raised to look over the top of the book at his wife. There was a patient
+sort of suffering about her which irritated him a good bit, as he could
+see no possible reason to account for it. He asked her one or two
+questions, which she answered in an abstracted manner.
+
+No, he certainly had not bargained for this sort of thing when he
+married. Hilda was not only pretty, but she could be, when she liked,
+sufficiently intellectual to satisfy his requirements. He was fastidious
+and had peculiar views with regard to women. He hated the so-called
+clever women, but at the same time he despised the stupid ones. To
+please him a woman must have tact--she must quickly understand his many
+moods. She must sympathize when he demanded sympathy, and when he showed
+by his manner that he wished to be left alone, she must respect his
+desires. Hitherto, Hilda had abundantly fulfilled his expectations. If
+Judy had not been in the house, all that he had ever dreamed of in his
+married life would have come to pass. But to-night, although Judy was
+not there to intermeddle, Quentyns felt that, for all the good his wife
+was doing him, he might as well be a bachelor at his club.
+
+"My dear," he said with some impatience, and forgetting himself not a
+little, "do you know that you have made precisely the same remark now
+five times? I did not quarrel with its brilliancy the first time I heard
+it, but on the fifth occasion I will own that it gave me a certain sense
+of _ennui_. As I see that your thoughts are miles away, I'll just run
+round to the club for a bit and find out if there is anything going on."
+
+Hilda raised her eyes in some surprise. A certain expression in them
+seemed to expostulate with Jasper, but her lips said nothing; and just
+at that moment a hansom was heard to bowl up rapidly and stop with a
+quick jerk at the door. A moment later Rivers entered the drawing room.
+He came up at once to Hilda with the air of a man who has a message to
+deliver.
+
+"Judy hopes you got her note long ere this, Mrs. Quentyns."
+
+"Her note--no; I have not received any," replied Hilda.
+
+"She wrote to you this morning, and put the note under the pin-cushion
+in your room."
+
+"How romantic and Judy-like!" said Quentyns suddenly. "Quite the correct
+thing, according to the old-fashioned novels. When the heroine elopes
+she always leaves a note under the pin-cushion."
+
+"How do you do, Jasper? I did not notice you until this moment," said
+Rivers. He gave the other man a sharp glance, which suddenly made him
+feel queer and small. "The only thing old-fashioned that I notice about
+Judy," he said, "is her noble unselfishness. She has gone home
+because--because--I think you can both guess why; an explanation would
+only be disagreeable. She begged me to tell you, Mrs. Quentyns, that she
+meant to be really _perfectly_ happy at home, and she hoped you and
+Jasper would follow her example here. Poor little Giant Killer! she slew
+an enormous giant to-day, and there are few people I respect as I do
+that dear little soul. I saw her safely to the Rectory, as, when she
+came to me, I thought it best to humor what was more a noble inspiration
+than a child's whim. I will say good-night now."
+
+Hilda scarcely said a word while Rivers was speaking. When he left the
+room, however, she stood still for an instant, listening intently.
+Jasper had gone out to see his friend into his hansom. Would he come
+back? He did for a moment.
+
+"Don't sit up for me, Hilda," he said; and there was a tone in his voice
+which caused her heart to sink down low, very low indeed.
+
+She heard the door slam behind him, and then she knew that she was
+alone. The servants had gone to bed--to all intents and purposes she was
+absolutely alone in the silent house.
+
+So Judy's sacrifice was in vain. Judy had thought, by absolutely
+sacrificing herself, that she could bring this husband and wife
+together. It was not to be.
+
+Hilda fell on her knees and buried her burning face in the sofa
+cushions.
+
+"Oh, Judy, little Judy!" she sobbed. "Oh, Judy, what shall I do? My pain
+is greater than I can bear."
+
+She knelt in this position for a long time. Her little sister's face was
+distinctly seen in her mental vision; Judy seemed surrounded by a sort
+of halo--but what of Jasper? Had all the love which united these two
+hearts vanished like a dream? Was he never coming back to her? Would he
+always misunderstand her? Oh, if she thought that, she would not stay
+with him--she would go back to the Rectory and to Judy, and forget her
+golden dream and turn back again to the old life. For three months she
+would have been a wife. She would forget that time. She would own to
+Jasper that she had made a mistake. She would be Hilda Merton once more.
+Alas! alas! that could not be. Vows and ceremonies tied her. She had
+stood beside the altar and given herself away. There was no going back
+on that step. Jasper was not the Jasper of her dreams. He must have a
+small mind not to understand Judy, and she had married him because she
+thought his mind so big and his heart so great. After all, Judy was far
+greater than Jasper.
+
+"My little Judy," she murmured again, and then she sank down a pitiable,
+weak, inconsolable figure on the hearth-rug close to the expiring fire.
+She thought over the scenes of the last night and longed to have them
+back again.
+
+"If Judy's arms were round me, I should not feel so lonely," she
+murmured. "Oh, Jasper, how can you turn from me? How can you fail to
+understand that my heart at least is big enough to love both Judy and
+you?"
+
+The lamp burnt dimly and the fire went completely out. Hilda presently
+fell asleep in the darkness, and now a moonbeam shining into the drawing
+room and falling across her tired face made it look white and unearthly,
+almost like the face of a dead girl. It was in this attitude that
+Quentyns found her when he came back somewhere between one and two
+o'clock.
+
+His conscience was reproaching him, for Rivers, an old friend, had not
+failed to give him a little spice of his mind; but he was just in that
+irritable condition where repentance is almost impossible, and when
+self-abasement only leads a man into further wrong-doing.
+
+When he saw Hilda's tired face, he said to himself with a sort of laugh:
+
+"If I don't encourage this sort of thing, I shall doubtless be more and
+more of a tyrant in the eyes of my good wife and that precious
+fastidious child and Rivers. Well, well, I cannot see the beauty of
+voluntary martyrdom. If Hilda weren't quite such a goose, she would have
+gone to bed two hours ago, instead of falling asleep here to the utter
+disregard of her health and personal appearance."
+
+So Quentyns, looking cross and uninterested, shook his wife not too
+gently; spoke in a commonplace tone, out of which he purposely excluded
+every scrap of emotion, and asked her how much longer she wanted to sit
+up.
+
+Hilda stumbled to her feet without a word. She went upstairs and to bed,
+but although her husband quickly slept, she lay awake until the morning.
+
+She came down to breakfast, looking tired and fagged. There were black
+lines under her eyes, and when Quentyns asked her what was the matter,
+she not only owned to a headache, but burst into tears.
+
+When a man is thoroughly cross, nothing irritates him more than tears on
+the part of his wife, and Quentyns now so far forgot himself as to rise
+hastily from the breakfast table and leave the room, slamming the door
+behind him. He put in his head a moment later to nod to his wife and say
+good-by.
+
+"If I'm late, don't wait dinner for me," he said, and then he left the
+house. Hilda had plenty of time to wipe her tears away in the deserted
+breakfast room. The pain at her heart was almost greater than she could
+bear. Her gentle nature was stirred by what she considered gross
+injustice on the part of her husband.
+
+"He does not care for me any more," she muttered. "I thought him great
+and brave and good. I know he is clever; I suppose he is great, and
+perhaps even good; but I am too small and too little for him--I fail to
+understand him, and he does not love me any more. Oh, if only little
+Judy had stayed with me I should not feel as broken-hearted as I do at
+present. if only little Judy had stayed with me, I should loneliness of
+my life?"
+
+At this moment Hilda's dismal meditations were interrupted by the sound
+of carriage wheels, which not only came rattling down the little street,
+but stopped at the hall door. She started up in a fright, pushed back
+her disordered hair from her flushed face, and the next moment found
+herself in the voluminous embrace of Jasper's aunt, Lady Malvern.
+
+"My dear," exclaimed that good lady, "I must apologize for not looking
+you up sooner, but I have been particularly busy; for Cynthia, my eldest
+girl, has just got engaged and we are to have a wedding in the autumn
+and all kinds of fuss; but I have not forgotten you, Hilda, and I have
+just come to carry you off for the day. It is a lovely day, and we are
+all going to drive to Richmond to picnic in the park. Run upstairs, my
+love, and put on your hat and gloves. I mean to carry you off
+immediately."
+
+"But Jasper has just gone to town--he will be so sorry to have missed
+you," said Hilda.
+
+"Well, I suppose I can endure life even though I have missed Jasper,"
+said Lady Malvern with a laugh. "In any case I want you, and so does
+Cynthia. Cynthia has taken a great fancy to you, Hilda; so run away and
+get ready. I will send a wire to your husband to come down and join us
+later on. There now, will that content you, you poor, devoted little
+soul?"
+
+Hilda smiled and a faint color came into her cheeks.
+
+"Run up to your room, my dear," said good-natured Lady Malvern. "Be as
+quick as ever you can getting into the prettiest costume you have, for
+we are to be quite a gay party, I can tell you. Now run off, dear, run
+off, and pray don't keep me waiting a moment longer than you can help."
+
+Lady Malvern was the sort of person who never could bear anyone to say
+"no" to her, and Hilda at first unwillingly, but presently with a sort
+of elation and even defiance which was altogether foreign to her gentle
+nature, prepared to make herself smart for her unexpected gayety. She
+went upstairs, pulled out one of her prettiest trousseau dresses, and,
+with hands that trembled, began to array herself in it.
+
+Meanwhile Lady Malvern sat perfectly still in the tiny little dining
+room, with a somewhat troubled look on her good-tempered face.
+
+"Now, what has Jasper been doing?" she said to herself. "That sweet
+child doesn't look happy. Marks of tears round her eyes, flushed
+cheeks--very low spirits. Dear, dear! this will never do. Not more than
+three months from the wedding-day."
+
+Lady Malvern had seen very little of her nephew since his marriage. She
+knew nothing, therefore, about Judy; but she was just that fussy,
+good-natured, hearty sort of body who could not bear anyone with whom
+she came in contact to be miserable.
+
+"I must set this right somehow or other," she said to herself. "Jasper
+doesn't understand Hilda, and Hilda is wretched, and thinks, poor dear
+little goose, that the sun will never shine again, and that life is
+practically over for her. She does not know, how could she, poor
+darling, how many rubs married people have to live through, and how
+jolly and comfortable they are notwithstanding them. Well, well, I am
+glad I called. I must set things right between this pair, whatever
+happens."
+
+Lady Malvern little guessed, however, that she personally was to have
+very little to do with smoothing the rumpled rose-leaves in Hilda's and
+Jasper's lives.
+
+When Mrs. Quentyns returned to the little dining room the flush on her
+cheeks and the softened look in her sweet eyes but added to her beauty,
+and when she found herself bowling away through the pleasant spring air
+in her kind friend's company, in spite of herself, her spirits could not
+help rising.
+
+Lady Malvern had a house in Hans Place, and there Cynthia and two
+younger girls were waiting for them.
+
+The day was a perfect one, very warm and summery for the time of year,
+and the young people all agreed that it was by no means too early in the
+season to enjoy themselves even in this _al fresco_ fashion.
+
+They were to end with tea at the "Star and Garter," and they all started
+off now for this day's pleasure in the highest spirits.
+
+Hilda was quite young enough to enjoy such a proceeding immensely. As
+space divided her from her little home in Philippa Terrace her spirits
+rose, and now, if Judy had only been by her side, she would have felt
+perfectly happy.
+
+By the time they reached Richmond Park all trace of tears and sorrow had
+left her charming face, and she was one of the brightest and gayest of
+the company.
+
+No one could make herself more useful than Hilda, and when her husband
+appeared on the scene, he was a good deal astonished to see her flying
+lightly about, ordering and directing the arrangements of the picnic
+dinner. Her gay laughter floated to his ears on the summer breeze, her
+cheeks were bright, her eyes shining. In short, she looked like that
+charming Hilda who had won his heart in the old Rectory garden not a
+year ago.
+
+Hilda was busily helping to concoct a salmon mayonnaise, when, raising
+her eyes, she met her husband's gaze. He smiled back at her a look of
+approval and love, and her heart rose considerably.
+
+There were other people present besides Jasper who thought Mrs. Quentyns
+a very beautiful young woman. There were others waiting to show her the
+most polite and gracious attentions, and these facts considerably
+enhanced her value in her husband's eyes. In short, he began to fall in
+love with his wife over again, and Judy for the time being was forgotten
+by this pair.
+
+The day passed all too quickly, and at last the moment arrived when the
+little party must turn their steps homeward.
+
+"You must both come home and have supper with us," said Lady Malvern to
+her nephew and his wife. "Oh, yes, I shall take no denial; and now,
+Jasper, will you drive Cynthia and her sister back to town? I mean Hilda
+to accompany me."
+
+Jasper was all smiles and good-humor. He was willing to accede to any
+arrangement which could add to the pleasures of the day, and Hilda, in
+whose heart a faint hope had lingered that she and her husband might
+have gone home together, followed Lady Malvern to her carriage with a
+little sigh. The whole party was soon driving home. Lady Malvern and
+Hilda had a small victoria to themselves. As soon as ever they left the
+rest of the party, the older woman turned and gave a full glance at the
+girl by her side.
+
+"Hilda," she said suddenly, "you look better than you did this morning."
+
+"Oh, I feel better," she replied. "You have done me lots of good," she
+continued, raising her eyes with an affectionate light in them to Lady
+Malvern's kind face.
+
+"I am delighted to have helped you, my love," replied the elder lady;
+"and now, Hilda, I want to say something. You have been married very
+little over three months. It is a very common illusion with girls to
+imagine that married life is a time of perpetual bliss."
+
+Hilda opened her lips to say something, but Lady Malvern interrupted.
+
+"My dear," she said, "you must hear me out. Married life is not a bed of
+roses, and the first year which a young couple spend together is
+generally the hardest of all."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Quentyns. "Why the first year?"
+
+"Because, my dear, the glamour is gradually being removed. The girl is
+finding that the hero whom she married is a right good fellow, but still
+that he is human; that he has his faults and his aggravations; that he
+needs to be humored and consulted and petted, and to have his
+smallnesses--yes, my dear, mark the word, his smallnesses--attended to.
+The husband is making similar discoveries with regard to the lovely
+angel whom he took to his arms. She, too, is mortal--affectionate, of
+course, and sweet and womanly, and ten thousand times better than a real
+angel would be to him, but still with her faults, her tempers, and her
+fads. The young couple discover these things in each other during the
+first two or three months of married life. All their future happiness
+depends on how they both act, under the influence of these discoveries.
+They have got to learn that, though they are made one by the priest,
+they are both of them distinct individualities. If they are to be happy
+together, they must both give and take. I know a married couple who are
+now the happiest, prosiest, most attached old pair in the world, who
+went through no end of storms during their first eventful year. But they
+learned a lesson and profited by it. The wife does not now think her
+husband the greatest hero that ever set foot on this earth, and the
+husband does not call his wife an angel; but I think, if their love were
+analyzed, it would be found greater, deeper, and more tender than that
+early glamour which was love, but was not equal to the love tried by
+fire which comes later in life. Now, my dear, you will forgive my little
+lecture. If you had need of it, ponder my words; if not, forgive an old
+woman for worrying you. Hilda, what a sweet, pretty little house you
+have! I always knew that my nephew Jasper had good taste. I am so truly
+glad that you have the same."
+
+While Lady Malvern was speaking, Hilda pulled down her veil, and
+struggled hard to keep the tears from her brown eyes. She could not
+quite manage this, however, and Lady Malvern, giving her a half-glance,
+saw that her eyelashes were wet.
+
+She did not add any more in words, but she made up her mind to help the
+young girl by every means in her power.
+
+They drove on rapidly. The horses were fresh, and they were getting over
+the ground with great rapidity, when a quickly approaching train
+startled one of the horses. At the same time a man on a bicycle darted
+round the corner, and before he could help himself, knocked against the
+carriage. The double shock was enough for the affrighted horses. They
+plunged, reared, and became unmanageable, and the next moment the little
+victoria was overturned, and Lady Malvern and Mrs. Quentyns were flung
+with some violence on the pavement. Lady Malvern was not severely hurt,
+and she sprang almost immediately to her feet, but the fright and fall
+had stunned Hilda, who lay white and still on the ground without any
+attempt at movement. The usual crowd of course collected, and it was on
+this scene that Quentyns, in high good-humor, and forgetting for the
+time being that there was a crumpled rose-leaf in the world, suddenly
+came with some more of the picnic party. As a matter of course, they all
+drew up. Quentyns was driving a high dog-cart. He sprang to the ground
+and ran into the midst of the crowd. Then for the first time he realized
+what had happened. His young wife, looking as if she were dead, was
+lying in Lady Malvern's arms. Lady Malvern was seated on a doorstep.
+Some men were hastily coming forward with a shutter.
+
+"My God!" exclaimed Quentyns; "is she dead?"
+
+"No, my dear boy, no--only stunned," said Lady Malvern. "Here, take her
+into your own arms, Jasper. You are stronger than I. Let her see your
+face first when she opens her eyes. No medicine will be so reviving as
+that."
+
+Here a woman came up and spoke to Lady Malvern.
+
+"I shall be only too pleased to have the young lady brought into my
+house, madam," she said. "A very good doctor lives just round the
+corner, and he can be summoned at once."
+
+"Yes, yes; send for him immediately," said Quentyns.
+
+He strode into the house with his light burden. Hilda was laid upon a
+sofa, and in a few moments the doctor arrived. He felt her all over and
+said that no bones were broken, and that no severe injury of any kind
+had occurred, but both fall and shock had been very severe. He counseled
+her being left undisturbed in her present condition until the morning.
+
+"Then I will go home," said Lady Malvern. "You will look after her
+yourself, Jasper?"
+
+"Need you ask?" he replied. He followed his aunt to the door as he
+spoke.
+
+"Hilda had a narrow escape of her life," said Lady Malvern, looking full
+at her nephew as she spoke. "How sudden and awful it all was! There were
+we chatting together, and thinking no more of danger than if such a
+thing did not exist, when all in an instant came that awful bolt from
+the blue. I shall never forget the swinging of the carriage and the way
+the horses looked when they plunged and kicked about, or the white
+piteous face of your sweet little Hilda, who would not scream nor show
+any outward sign of terror. I thought it was all over with both of us--I
+did really, Jasper. I cannot tell you how thankful we ought to be that
+things are no worse."
+
+"You are sure then that Hilda is not in danger?" queried the young man
+in a tremulous voice.
+
+"No, no; what did you hear the doctor say, you silly boy? Perhaps the
+best thing that could have happened to Hilda was this accident, dreadful
+as it was for the moment. Perhaps--well, Jasper, I think you must know
+what I mean."
+
+"Has Hilda been talking about me?" asked Jasper, a wave of red mounting
+to his brow.
+
+"Talking about you?" replied his aunt, now thoroughly angry; "only in
+the way that Hilda can talk of those whom she loves best on earth.
+Jasper, you are the luckiest man in the world, and if you don't contrive
+to make that sweet child the happiest woman, I for one will have nothing
+to do with you again."
+
+"No fear, no fear, if she loves me in that way," murmured Jasper.
+
+He turned abruptly on his heel and went back to the room where his wife
+lay. He was a very proud, reserved man, and even in moments of the
+deepest agitation would scarcely reveal his real sentiments. But that
+moment, when he had looked at his wife's white face and had thought that
+she was dead, had shaken his whole nature to its very depths. He made a
+discovery then that nothing in all the world was of any real value to
+him compared with Hilda's love.
+
+"I have acted like a brute to her," he murmured. "Rivers was right.
+She's too good for me--she's fifty times too good for me. My God, how
+white she looks as she lies there! Suppose the doctor is wrong. Why
+doesn't she speak or move? Why do they make so little of this continued
+unconsciousness? I think I'll go for some further advice. Oh, my
+darling, my darling, if you are dead, if your sweet life has been taken,
+I shall never forgive myself--never!"
+
+But just then there was a faint stir of the heavily fringed lids which
+lay against Hilda's white cheeks. The next moment the sweet brown eyes
+were opened wide, and Hilda looked into her husband's face.
+
+"What has happened?" she asked drowsily. "I don't remember anything.
+Where are we?"
+
+"Together, Hilda," he replied; "together. Does anything else really
+matter?"
+
+"Oh, no, no!" she said, with a catch in her voice.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Next day Mrs. Quentyns was so far convalescent as to be able to return
+to the little house in Philippa Terrace. Jasper, of course, accompanied
+her. They had found a good deal to say to each other, between the moment
+when she had opened her eyes the night before and now. Both had some
+things to confess--both had some words of forgiveness to crave from the
+other. So complete now had been the interchange of soul and of love
+between this pair that it seemed impossible that anything could ever
+separate such warm hearts again.
+
+"And it has been all Judy's doing," said Jasper as they sat that
+evening in the little drawing room.
+
+"What do you mean?" asked his wife.
+
+"Why," he answered, "if Judy had not brought matters to a crisis by
+going away, we might have drifted further and further apart. But now we
+must have her back again, Hilda. She has fulfilled her mission, dear
+little soul, and now she must have her reward."
+
+"No," said Hilda, in a firm voice. "Judy shall have her reward, but not
+by coming back. She did right to go. I could never, never have sent her
+away, but she did right to go."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me, Hilda, that you could be perfectly happy to
+live without her?"
+
+"With you," she said, laying her hand on his arm, and looking into his
+face with her sweet eyes shining through tears.
+
+He put his arms round her and kissed her many times.
+
+"Jasper," said Hilda after a few minutes, "I think the first wrong step
+that I took--the first beginning of that unhappy time--was when I lost
+my temper down at Little Staunton and gave up my engagement ring."
+
+"No wonder you lost your temper when I was such a brute about
+everything," said Quentyns. "It was my fault."
+
+"No, no; it was mine."
+
+"Have you missed the ring, Hilda?"
+
+"Missed it?" she held up her slender finger. "My heart has been empty
+without it," she said.
+
+"Then let me put it on again for you."
+
+"Can you? Is--isn't it sold?"
+
+"Of course not. Do you think that I could sell that ring?"
+
+"But--but the furniture in Judy's room?"
+
+"When I saw that you must have Judy with you, Hilda, I went into debt
+for the furniture. Oh, never mind all that now, my darling--the debt is
+paid in full a week ago, and I have the receipt in my pocket. Now I am
+going upstairs to fetch the ring."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+GOOD OMENS.
+
+    And so the shadows fall apart,
+      And so the west winds play;
+    And all the windows of my heart
+      I open to the day.
+
+                    --WHITTIER.
+
+
+Mildred Anstruther was paying a visit at the Rectory on the day that
+Rivers and Judy walked in. Rivers was a very striking-looking man, and
+all the Rectory people were so devoured with curiosity about him, and so
+interested in all he said and did--in his reasons for coming down to
+Little Staunton, and in his remarks about the Quentyns--that Judy's own
+return to the family circle passed into utter insignificance. She was
+there--they had none of them expected her, and as she chose to come
+back, she was welcome of course.
+
+It was a lovely day, and the whole party were out in the garden, when
+Rivers and his little charge entered their midst.
+
+Judy wore her green cloak and pretty black shady hat. There was a new
+sort of picturesqueness about her, which Aunt Marjorie noticed in an
+abstracted way; she put it down to "the polish which even a short
+residence in the metropolis always gives;" she had not the faintest idea
+that it was due to the dignity which a noble action can inspire.
+
+Judy greeted everyone quite in her old manner, and was rather glad that
+she was not fussed over, but taken quite as a matter-of-course.
+
+Aunt Marjorie was too anxious about the cream for Rivers' tea to give
+serious thoughts to anyone else just then. But when the young man had
+departed to catch the return train to London, then a few questions were
+asked of Judy.
+
+"I thought you were going to live with Hilda," said Mildred, looking
+curiously at the child.
+
+Mildred was standing a little apart from the others, and Judy, whose
+face was pale, for the suffering of her self-sacrifice was still causing
+her heart to ache horribly, looked full at her, and said in a low voice:
+
+"That turned out to be a mistake, so I've come home."
+
+"You brave little darling!" said Mildred, understanding everything like
+a flash; she stooped and kissed Judy on her forehead.
+
+Babs came rushing into the midst of the group.
+
+"Judy, Judy, I want you," she cried.
+
+"What is it?" asked Judy.
+
+"There's a butterfly coming out of a chrysalis in the butterfly-case;
+come quick--he's moving his tail backward and forward--he'll soon be
+out; come quick and see him."
+
+The dull look left Judy's eyes; they sparkled with a sudden, swift,
+childish joy.
+
+She took Babs' hand, and they rushed away, right round to the back of
+the house where the butterfly-case stood.
+
+"Let's take him out, poor darling," she said; "let's put him on a leaf,
+and watch him as he gets out of his prison."
+
+Her eyes grew brighter and brighter; she bent low to watch the
+resurrection which was going on.
+
+After all the chrysalis and the butterfly were emblems. They were good
+omens to Judy that love and hope were not dead.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Young Mutineer, by Mrs. L. T. Meade
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Young Mutineer, by Mrs. L. T. Meade
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Young Mutineer
+
+Author: Mrs. L. T. Meade
+
+Release Date: February 13, 2008 [EBook #24599]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YOUNG MUTINEER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Jacqueline Jeremy and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="tn">
+<p class="center to">Transcriber's Note:</p>
+
+<p class="center to">The words <a href="#tnote">"if only little Judy had stayed with me, I
+should"</a>, possibly repeated instead of the first words of the
+next sentence, have been reproduced as typeset.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h1 class="head">A Young Mutineer</h1>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 398px;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="398" height="600" alt="A Young Mutineer" title="Cover" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;">
+<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="416" height="600" alt="&quot;WAS THE PERSON FICKLE, AND DID HE BREAK HIS PROMISE?&quot;
+Frontispiece." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;was the person fickle, and did he break his promise?&quot;</span>
+<span class="caption2"><a href="#frontis"><em>Frontispiece</em></a>.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="tp">
+<p class="title bb"><big>A Young Mutineer</big></p>
+
+<p class="title nb"><small>BY</small>
+<br />
+MRS. L. T. MEADE</p>
+
+<p class="smcap bb noi center nt"><small>author of "a girl in ten thousand," "a ring of
+rubies," "girls new and old," etc.</small></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 120px;">
+<img src="images/title.jpg" width="120" height="52" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="title bt"><span class="pub"><small>NEW YORK</small><br />
+STITT PUBLISHING COMPANY<br />
+<small>1905</small></span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="hr5" />
+
+<div class="tobox">
+<p class="center"><span class="to">TO</span><br />
+MY LITTLE GIRL HOPE<br />
+<small>THE REAL JUDY</small></p>
+<p class="nb"><span class="tiny">October 23, 1893</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="hr6" />
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span>
+CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+<table summary="table of contents">
+<tr>
+<th class="tdb" colspan="2"><small>CHAPTER</small></th>
+<th class="tdc"><small>PAGE</small></th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">I.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">An Old-fashioned Little Pair</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#pair">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">II.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">The People Who Get Married</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#married">14</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">III.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">A Question and an Answer</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#answer">26</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">IV.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">Changes</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#changes">36</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">V.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">In a Garden</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#garden">52</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">VI.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">The Eve of the Wedding</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#wedding">67</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">VII.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">A Wedding Present</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#present">82</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">VIII.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">Honeymoon</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#honeymoon">91</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">IX.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">Starved</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#starved">101</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">X.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">Waiting</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#waiting">118</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">XI.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">Husband and Wife</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#wife">129</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">XII.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">Hilda's Engagement Ring</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#ring">149</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">XIII.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">Judy's Room</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#room">157</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">XIV.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">The Little Rift</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#rift">174</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">XV.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">Three Is Trumpery</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#trumpery">186</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">XVI.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">A Little Girl and a Little Cross</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#cross">195</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">XVII.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">Judy's Secret</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#secret">208</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">XVIII.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">Giant-killer</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#killer">224</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda">XIX.</td>
+<td class="tdb"><span class="smcap">Good Omens</span></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#omens">253</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<hr class="hr3" />
+
+<h1><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span>
+<a name="pair" id="pair"></a>A YOUNG MUTINEER.</h1>
+
+<hr class="hr4" />
+
+<h2>CHAPTER I<br />
+<small>AN OLD-FASHIONED LITTLE PAIR.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sun and shower&mdash;sun and shower&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now rough, now smooth, is the winding way;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thorn and flower&mdash;thorn and flower&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which will you gather? Who can say?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wayward hearts, there's a world for your winning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sorrow and laughter, love or woe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who can tell in the day's beginning<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The paths that your wandering feet shall go?<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;Mary Macleod.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The village choir were practicing in the church&mdash;their voices, somewhat
+harsh and uncultivated, were sending forth volumes of sound into the
+summer air. The church doors were thrown open, and a young man dressed
+in cricketing-flannels was leaning against the porch. He was tall, and
+square-shouldered, with closely-cropped dark hair, and a keen,
+intelligent face.</p>
+
+<p>When the music became very loud and discordant he moved impatiently, but
+as the human voices ceased and the sweet notes of the voluntary sounded
+in full melody on the little organ, a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>look of relief swept like a
+soothing hand over his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>The gates of the Rectory were within a stone's throw of the church. Up
+the avenue three people might have been seen advancing. Two were
+children, one an adult. The grown member of this little group was tall
+and slight; she wore spectacles, and although not specially gifted with
+wisdom, possessed a particularly wise appearance. The two little girls,
+who were her pupils, walked somewhat sedately by her side. As they
+passed the church the governess looked neither to right nor left, but
+the eldest girl fixed her keen and somewhat hungry eyes with a
+questioning gaze on the young man who stood in the porch. He nodded back
+to her a glance full of intelligence, which he further emphasized by a
+quick and somewhat audacious wink from his left eye. The little girl
+walked on loftily; she thought that Jasper Quentyns, who was more or
+less a stranger in the neighborhood, had taken a distinct liberty.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter, Judy?" asked the smallest of the girls.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," replied Judy quickly. She turned to her governess as she
+spoke. "Miss Mills, I was very good at my lessons to-day, wasn't I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Judy."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>"You are not going to forget what you promised me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I do forget; what was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"You said if I were really good I might stop at the church on my way
+back and go home with Hilda. I have been good, so I may go home with
+Hilda, may I not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, child, of course, if I promised, but we are only just on our walk
+now. It is a fine autumnal day, and I want to get to the woods to pick
+some bracken and heather, for your Aunt Marjorie has asked me to fill
+all the vases for dinner to-night. There are not half enough flowers in
+the garden, so I must go to the woods, whatever happens. Your sister
+will have left the church when we return, Judy."</p>
+
+<p>"No, she won't," replied Judy. "The practice will be twice as long as
+usual to-day because of the Harvest Festival on Sunday."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if she is there you can go in and wait for her, as you have been
+a good girl. Now let us talk of something else."</p>
+
+<p>"I have nothing else to talk about," answered Judy, somewhat sulkily.</p>
+
+<p>The bright expression which gave her small eager face its charm, left
+it; she fell back a pace or two, and Miss Mills walked on alone in
+front.</p>
+
+<p>Judy was not popular with her governess. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>Miss Mills was tired of her
+constant remarks about Hilda. She had a good deal to think of to-day,
+and she was pleased to let her two pupils amuse themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Judy's hungry and unsatisfied eyes softened and grew happy when their
+gaze fell upon Babs. Babs was only six, and she had a power of
+interesting everyone with whom she came in contact. Her wise, fat face,
+somewhat solemn in expression, was the essence of good-humor. Her blue
+eyes were as serene as an unruffled summer pool. She could say heaps of
+old-fashioned, quaint things. She had strong likes and dislikes, but she
+was never known to be cross. She adored Judy, but Judy only liked her,
+for all Judy's passionate love was already disposed of. It centered
+itself round her eldest sister, Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>The day was a late one in September. The air was still very balmy and
+even warm, and Miss Mills soon found herself sufficiently tired to be
+glad to take advantage of a stile which led right through the field into
+the woods to rest herself. She sat comfortably on the top of the stile,
+and looking down the road saw that her little pupils were disporting
+themselves happily; they were not in the slightest danger, and she was
+in no hurry to call them to her side.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>"Children are the most fagging creatures in Christendom," she said to
+herself; "for my part I can't understand anyone going into raptures over
+them. For one nice child there are twenty disagreeable ones. I have
+nothing to say against Babs, of course; but Judy, she is about the most
+spoilt creature I ever came across, and of course it is all Hilda's
+fault. I must speak to Mr. Merton, I really must, if this goes on. Hilda
+and Judy ought to be parted, but of course Hilda won't leave home
+unless, unless&mdash;ah, I wonder if there is <em>any</em> chance of that. Too good
+news to be true. Too good luck for Mr. Quentyns anyhow. I shouldn't be
+surprised if he is trying to get Hilda all this time, but&mdash;he is
+scarcely likely to succeed. Poor Judy! what a blow anything of that kind
+would be to her; but of course there is not the least chance of it."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Mills took off her hat as she spoke, and allowed the summer air to
+play with her somewhat thin fringe and to cool her heated cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"I hate children," she soliloquized. "I did hope that my time of
+servitude was nearly over, but when men prove so unfaithful!" Here a
+very angry gleam flashed out of her eyes; she put her hand into her
+pocket, and taking out a letter, read it slowly and carefully. Her
+expression <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>was not pleasant while she perused the words on the closely
+written page.</p>
+
+<p>She had just returned the letter to its envelope when a gay voice
+sounded in her ears. A girl was seen walking across the field and
+approaching the stile. She was a fair-haired, pretty girl, dressed in
+the height of the fashion. She had a merry laugh, and a merry voice, and
+two very bright blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do, Miss Mills?" she called to her. "I am going to see
+Hilda. Can you tell me if she is at home?"</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do, Miss Anstruther?" replied Miss Mills; "I did not know
+you had returned."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we all came home yesterday. I am longing to see Hilda, I have such
+heaps of things to tell her. Is she at the Rectory?"</p>
+
+<p>"At the present moment she is very busily employed trying to train the
+most unmelodious choir in Great Britain," replied Miss Mills. "The
+Harvest Festival takes place on Sunday, and in consequence she has more
+than usual to do."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, you need not tell me; I am not going to venture within sound of
+that choir. I shall go down to the Rectory and wait until her duties are
+ended. There is not the least hurry. Good-by, Miss Mills. Are the
+children well?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>"You can see for yourself," replied Miss Mills; "they are coming up the
+road side by side."</p>
+
+<p>"Old-fashioned little pair," replied Miss Anstruther, with a laugh.
+"I'll just run down the road and give them a kiss each, and then go on
+to the Rectory."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Mills did not say anything further. Miss Anstruther mounted the
+stile, called out to the children to announce her approach, kissed them
+when they met, received an earnest gaze from Judy and an indifferent one
+from Babs, and went on her way.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you like her, Judy?" asked Babs, when the pretty girl had left them.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes!" replied Judy in a careless tone; "she is well enough. I don't
+love her, if that's what you mean, Babs."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course it isn't what I mean," replied Babs. "How many rooms have you
+got in your heart, Judy?"</p>
+
+<p>"One big room quite full," replied Judy with emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>"I know&mdash;it's full of Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>"It is."</p>
+
+<p>"I have got a good many rooms in my heart," said Babs. "Mr. Love is in
+some of them, and Mr. Like is in others. Have you no room in your heart
+for Mr. Like, Judy?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Then poor Miss Mills does not live in your heart at all?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Oh, dear! what a long walk she's going to take us to-day. If I had
+known that this morning, I wouldn't have taken so much pains over my
+arithmetic. I shan't have a scrap of time with Hilda. It is too bad. I
+am sure Miss Mills does it to worry me. She never can bear us to be
+together."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Judy!" replied Babs. "I shan't let Miss Mills live in my heart at
+all if she vexes you; but oh, dear; oh, dear! Just look, do look! Do you
+see that monstrous spider over there, the one with the sun shining on
+his web?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you love spiders?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. I love all animals. I have a separate heart for animals."</p>
+
+<p>Babs looked intensely interested.</p>
+
+<p>"I love all animals too," she said, "every single one, all kinds&mdash;<em>even</em>
+pigs. Don't you love pigs, Judy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if Miss Mills does? There she is, reading her letter. She has
+read it twenty times already to-day, so she must know it by heart <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>now.
+Let's run up and ask her if she loves pigs."</p>
+
+<p>Judy quickened her steps, and the two little girls presently reached the
+stile.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Mills," said Babs, in her clear voice, "we want to know something
+very badly. Do you love pigs?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do I love pigs?" asked Miss Mills with a start. "You ridiculous child,
+what nonsense you are talking!"</p>
+
+<p>"But do you?" repeated Babs. "It is most important for Judy and me to
+know; for we love them, poor things&mdash;we think they're awfully nice."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Mills laughed in the kind of manner which always irritated Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry not to be able to join your very peculiar hero-worship, my
+dears," she said. "I can't say that I am attached to the pig."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it is very wrong of you," said Judy, her eyes flashing, "when you
+think of all the poor pig does for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Of all the poor pig does for me! What next?"</p>
+
+<p>"You wouldn't be the woman you are but for the pig," said Judy. "Don't
+you eat him every day of your life for breakfast? You wouldn't be as
+strong as you are but for the poor pig, and the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>least you can do is to
+love him. I don't suppose he likes being killed to oblige you."</p>
+
+<p>Judy's great eyes were flashing, and her little sensitive mouth was
+quivering.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Mills gave her a non-comprehending glance. She could not in the
+least fathom the child's queer passionate nature. Injustice of all sorts
+preyed upon Judy; she could make herself morbid on almost any theme, and
+a gloomy picture now filled her little soul. The animals were giving up
+their lives for the human race, and the human race did not even give
+them affection in return.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that letter very funny?" asked Babs.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not funny, but it is interesting to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you love the person who wrote it to you?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Mills let the sheet of closely-written paper fall upon her lap; her
+eyes gazed into the child's serene and wise little face. Something
+impelled her to say words which she knew could not be understood.</p>
+
+<p>"I hate the person who wrote that letter more than anyone else in all
+the world," she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>There was a passionate ring in her thin voice. The emotion which filled
+her voice and shone out of her eyes gave pathos to her commonplace
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>face. Babs began to pull a flower to pieces. She had never conjugated
+the verb to hate, and did not know in the least what it meant; but Judy
+looked at her governess with new interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you get letters from the person you hate so much?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't ask any more questions," replied Miss Mills. She folded up the
+sheet of paper, slipped it into its envelope, replaced the envelope in
+her pocket, and started to her feet. "Let us continue our walk," she
+said. "We shall reach the woods in five minutes if we are quick."</p>
+
+<p>"But," said Judy, as they went down the path across the field, "I
+<em>should</em> like to know, Miss Mills, why you get letters from a person you
+hate."</p>
+
+<p>"When little girls ask troublesome questions they must not expect them
+to be answered," responded Miss Mills.</p>
+
+<p>Judy was silent. The faint, passing interest she had experienced died
+out of her face, and the rather sulky, unsatisfied expression returned
+to it.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Mills, whose heart was very full of something, spoke again, more to
+herself than to the children.</p>
+
+<p>"If there is one bigger mistake than another," she said, "it is the
+mistake of being fond of any <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>one. Oh, how silly girls are when they get
+engaged to be married!"</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?" asked Babs.</p>
+
+<p>"I know," said Judy, who was again all curiosity and interest. "I'll
+tell you another time about it, Babs. Miss Hicks in the village was
+engaged, and she had a wedding in the summer. I'll tell you all about
+it, Babs, if you ask me when we are going to bed to-night. Please, Miss
+Mills, why is it dreadful to be engaged to be married?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your troubles begin then," said Miss Mills. "Oh, don't talk to me about
+it, children. May you never understand what I am suffering! Oh, the
+fickleness of some people! The promises that are made only to be broken!
+You trust a person, and you are ever so happy; and then you find that
+you have made a great, big mistake, and you are miserable."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that you, Miss Mills? Are you the miserable person?" asked Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, child! I didn't say it was me. I wasn't talking of anyone in
+particular, and I shouldn't even have said what I did. Forget it,
+Judy&mdash;forget it, Babs. Come, let us collect the ferns."</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose we find some white heather," said Babs eagerly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>"And much that's worth, too," replied Miss Mills. "I found a piece last
+summer. I gave&mdash;&mdash;" She sighed, and the corners of her mouth drooped.
+She looked as if she were going to cry.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
+<a name="married" id="married"></a>CHAPTER II.<br />
+
+<small>THE PEOPLE WHO GET MARRIED.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou wert mine&mdash;all mine!...<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">&mdash;Where has summer fled?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sun forgets to shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Clouds are overhead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blows a chilling blast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tells my frightened heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the hour at last<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Comes when we must part.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hurrying moments, stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Leave us yet alone!&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the world grows gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Love, when thou art flown.<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>Judy's soul swelled within her when she heard the music still sending
+volumes of sound out of the little church. Miss Mills had not spoken all
+the way home. Babs had chattered without a moment's intermission. Her
+conversation had been entirely about birds and beasts and creeping
+things. Judy had replied with rather less interest than usual. She was
+so anxious to hurry home, so fearful of being too late. Now it was all
+right. Hilda was still in the church, and, delightful&mdash;more than
+delightful&mdash;the discordant notes of the choir had ceased, and only <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>the
+delicious sounds of the organ were borne on the breeze.</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda is in the church," said Judy, pulling her governess by her
+sleeve. "Good-by, Miss Mills; good-by, Babs."</p>
+
+<p>She rushed away, scarcely heeding her governess's voice as it called
+after her to be sure to be back at the Rectory in time for tea.</p>
+
+<p>The church doors were still open, but the young man in the
+cricketing-flannels, who had stood in the porch when Judy had started on
+her walk, was no longer to be seen. The little girl stole into the quiet
+church on tip-toe, crept up to her sister Hilda's side, and lying down
+on the floor, laid her head on her sister's white dress.</p>
+
+<p>Judy's lips kissed the hem of the dress two or three times; then she lay
+quiet, a sweet expression round her lips, a tranquil, satisfied light in
+her eyes. Here she was at rest, her eager, craving heart was full and
+satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>"You dear little monkey!" said Hilda, pausing for a moment in her really
+magnificent rendering of one of Bach's most passionate fugues. She
+touched the child's head lightly with her hand as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't stop, Hilda; go on. I am so happy," whispered Judy back.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda smiled, and immediately resumed the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>music which thrilled through
+and through Judy's soul.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda was eighteen, and the full glory and bloom of this perfect age
+surrounded her; it shone in her dark red-brown hair, and gleamed in her
+brown eyes, and smiled on her lips and even echoed from her sweet voice.
+Hilda would always be lovely to look at, but she had the tender radiance
+of early spring about her now. Judy was not the only person who thought
+her the fairest creature in the world.</p>
+
+<p>While she was playing, and the influence of the music was more and more
+filling her face, there came a shadow across the church door. The shadow
+lengthened and grew longer, and the young man, whose smile Judy had
+ignored, came softly across the church and up to Hilda's side.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on playing," he said, nodding to her. "I have been waiting and
+listening. I can wait and listen a little longer if you will allow me to
+sit in the church."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall have done in a moment," said Hilda. "I just want to choose
+something for the final voluntary." She took up a book of lighter music
+as she spoke, and selecting some of Haydn's sweet and gracious melodies,
+began to play.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>Judy stirred restlessly. Jasper Quentyns came closer, so close that his
+shadow fell partly over the child as she lay on the ground, and quite
+shut away the evening sunlight as it streamed over Hilda's figure.
+Jasper was a musician himself, and he made comments which were listened
+to attentively.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda played the notes as he directed her. She brought added volume into
+certain passages, she rendered the light staccato notes with precision.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you are spoiling the playing," said Judy suddenly. She started up,
+knitting her black brows and glaring angrily at Jasper Quentyns.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mean to say you are here all the time, you little puss," he
+exclaimed. "I thought you and Miss Mills and Babs were miles away by
+now. Why, what's the matter, child? Why do you frown at me as if I were
+an ogre?"</p>
+
+<p>Hilda put her arm round Judy's waist. The contact of Hilda's arm was
+like balm to the child; she smiled and held out her hand penitently.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I don't think you are an ogre," she said, "but I do wish you
+would let Hilda play her music her own way."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't talk nonsense, Judy," said Hilda; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>"you quite forget that Mr.
+Quentyns knows a great deal more about music than I do."</p>
+
+<p>"He doesn't play half nor quarter as well as you, for all that," replied
+Judy, with emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda bent forward and kissed her little sister on her forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"We won't have any more music at present," she said, "it is time for us
+to return to the house. You are going to dine at the Rectory this
+evening, are you not, Mr. Quentyns?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you will have me."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we shall all be delighted to have you."</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda," said Judy, "do you know that Mildred Anstruther is down at the
+house waiting to see you?"</p>
+
+<p>A faint shadow of disappointment flitted across Hilda Merton's face&mdash;an
+additional wave of color mounted to Jasper Quentyns' brow. He looked at
+Hilda to see if she had noticed it; Hilda turned from him and began to
+arrange her music.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," she said, "we mustn't keep Mildred waiting."</p>
+
+<p>"What has she come for?" asked Jasper, as the three walked down the
+shady avenue.</p>
+
+<p>"You know you are glad to see her," replied Hilda suddenly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>Something in her tone caused Jasper to laugh and raise his brows in
+mock surprise. Judy looked eagerly from one face to the other. Her heart
+began to beat with fierce dislike to Jasper. What right had he to
+interfere with Hilda's music, and above all things, what right, pray,
+had he to bring that tone, into Hilda's beloved voice?</p>
+
+<p>Judy clasped her sister's arm with a tight pressure. In a few minutes
+they reached the old-fashioned and cozy Rectory.</p>
+
+<p>The Rector was pacing about in the pleasant evening sunshine, and
+Mildred Anstruther was walking by his side and chatting to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, here you are," said Mildred, running up to her friend and greeting
+her with affection; "and you have come too, Mr. Quentyns?&mdash;this is a
+delightful surprise."</p>
+
+<p>"You had better run into the house now, Judy," said Hilda. "Yes,
+darling, go at once."</p>
+
+<p>"May I come down after dinner to-night, Hilda?"</p>
+
+<p>"You look rather pale, Judy, and as we are having friends to dinner it
+may be best for you to go to bed early," said another voice. It
+proceeded from the comfortable, good-natured mouth of Aunt Marjorie.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, Aunt Maggie, you won't send me to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>bed. Hilda, you'll plead for
+me, won't you?" gasped Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"I think she may come down just for half an hour, auntie," said Hilda,
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, child, it must be as you please; of course we all know who spoils
+Judy."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we all know who loves Judy," said Hilda. "Now are you
+satisfied, my sweet? Run away; be the best of good children. Eat a
+hearty tea; don't think of any trouble. Oh, Judy! what a frown you have
+between your brows; let me kiss it away. I'll find you in the drawing
+room after dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"And you'll come and talk to me if only for one minute. Promise,
+promise, Hilda!"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I promise; now run off."</p>
+
+<p>Judy went slowly away. She thought the grown people very unkind to
+dismiss her. She was interested in all people who were grown up; she had
+not a great deal of sympathy with children&mdash;she felt that she did not
+quite belong to them. The depths of her thoughts, the intense pathos of
+her unsatisfied affections were incomprehensible to most children. Hilda
+understood her perfectly, and even Aunt Marjorie and her father were
+more agreeable companions than Miss Mills and Babs.</p>
+
+<p>There was no help for it, however. Judy was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>a schoolroom child, and
+back to the schoolroom and to Miss Mills' dull society she must go.
+Swinging her hat on her arm she walked slowly down the long, cool stone
+passage which led from the principal hall to the schoolroom regions. A
+maidservant of the name of Susan hurried past her with the tray which
+contained the schoolroom tea in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"You must be quick, Miss Judy, I am bringing in the tea," she said.</p>
+
+<p>Judy frowned. She did not think it at all necessary for Susan to remind
+her of her rather disagreeable duties. Instead of hurrying to the
+schoolroom she stood still and looked out of one of the windows. The
+words Miss Mills had uttered as they walked across the fields to the
+wood kept returning to her memory. In some curious, undefined,
+uncomfortable way she connected them with her sister Hilda. What did
+they mean? Why was it dreadful to be engaged to be married? Why were
+some people so fickle, and why were promises broken? Judy had never seen
+Miss Mills so excited before.</p>
+
+<p>"She looked quite interesting when she spoke in that voice," said Judy
+to herself. "What did she mean? what could she mean? She said it was
+dreadful to be married, and dreadful to be engaged. I think I'll go and
+ask Mrs. Sutton. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>I don't care if I am a bit late for tea. The worst
+Miss Mills will do is to give me some poetry to learn, and I like
+learning poetry. Yes, I'll go and see Mrs. Sutton. She was married
+twice, so she must have been engaged twice. She must know all&mdash;all about
+it. She's a much better judge than Miss Mills, who never was married at
+all."</p>
+
+<p>Judy opened a baize door, which shut behind her with a bang. She went
+down a few steps, and a moment later was standing in a comfortably
+furnished sitting room which belonged to the housekeeper, Mrs. Sutton.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Sutton was a stout, portly old lady. She had twinkling good-humored
+eyes, a mouth which smiled whenever she looked at a child, and a
+constant habit of putting her hand into her pocket and taking out a
+lollipop. This lollipop found its way straight into the receptive mouth
+of any small creature of the human race who came in her way.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that you, Miss Judy?" she said now, turning round and setting down
+her own cup of strong tea. "Come along, my pet, and give me a kiss. What
+do you say to this?" She held a pink sugar-stick between her finger and
+thumb. "I suppose you'll want another for Miss Babs, bless her!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>"Yes, thank you, Sutton," replied Judy. "Will you lay them on the
+table, please, and I'll take them when I am going away. Sutton, I want
+to talk to you about a <em>very</em> private matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, darling&mdash;bless your dear heart, your secrets are safe enough with
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it isn't exactly a secret, Sutton&mdash;it is something I want to know.
+Is it a dreadful thing to be engaged to be married?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bless us and save us!" said Mrs. Sutton. She flopped down again on her
+seat, and her red face grew purple. "Are you quite well, Miss Judy? You
+haven't been reading naughty books now, that you shouldn't open? What
+could put such thoughts into the head of a little miss like you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Please answer me, Sutton, it is most important. Is it dreadful to be
+engaged to be married? and are people fickle? and are promises broken?"</p>
+
+<p>"But, my dear&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Will you answer me, dear, kind Sutton?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Miss Judy, well&mdash;anything to please you, dearie&mdash;it all depends."</p>
+
+<p>"What does it depend on?"</p>
+
+<p>"Taken from the female point of view, it depends on the sort the young
+man is; but, my <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>darling, it's many and many a long day before you need
+worrit yourself with such matters."</p>
+
+<p>"But I want to know," persisted Judy. "People do get married. You were
+married twice yourself, Sutton; you told me so once."</p>
+
+<p>"So I was dear, and both my wedding gowns are in a trunk upstairs. My
+first was a figured sateen, a buff-colored ground with red flowers
+thrown over it. My second was a gray poplin. I was supposed to do very
+well with my second marriage, Miss Judy."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you were twice engaged, and twice married," said Judy. "I don't
+want to hear about the wedding gowns, Sutton. I am rather in a hurry. I
+want you to tell me about the other things. What were they like&mdash;the
+being engaged, and the being married? <a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a>Was the person fickle, and did he
+break his promise?"</p>
+
+<p>For some reason or other Mrs. Sutton's face became so deeply flushed
+that she looked quite angry.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what it is, Miss Judy," she said, "someone is putting
+thoughts into your head what oughtn't to do it. You are a motherless
+child, and there's someone filling your head with arrant nonsense. What
+do you know about engagements and&mdash;and disappointments, and dreams what
+proves but early mists of the morning? <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>what do you know of fickleness
+and broken promises? There, child, you won't get any of that bad sort of
+knowledge out of me. Now you run away, dearie. There's someone been
+talking about what they oughtn't to, and you has no call to listen, my
+pet. There's some weddings happy, and there's some that aint, and that's
+all I can say. Run away now, Miss Judy."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
+<a name="answer" id="answer"></a>CHAPTER III.<br />
+
+<small>A QUESTION AND AN ANSWER.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When some belov&egrave;d voice that was to you<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And silence against which you dare not cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aches round you like a strong disease and new&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What hope? what help? what music will undo<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That silence to your sense?<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;E. Barrett Browning.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Hilda Merton stood in a rather irresolute fashion in her bedroom.
+Several people were coming to dine at the Rectory to-night, and she, as
+the young mistress of the establishment, ought to be in the drawing room
+even now, waiting to receive her guests. The Rector was a very wealthy
+man, and all those luxuries surrounded Hilda which are the portion of
+those who are gently nurtured and well-born. Her maid had left the room,
+the young girl's simple white dress was arranged to perfection, her
+lovely hair was coiled becomingly around her shapely head. She was
+standing before her looking-glass, putting the final touches to her
+toilet.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>For some reason they took a long time to put. Hilda gazed into the
+reflection of her own pretty face as if she saw it not. Her brown eyes
+looked through the mirrored eyes in the glass with an almost abstracted
+expression. Suddenly a smile flitted across her face.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do it," she exclaimed. "I'll wear his white rose. He may think
+what he pleases. I&mdash;I do love him with all my heart and soul."</p>
+
+<p>She blushed as she uttered these last words, and looked in a
+half-frightened way across the room, as if by chance someone might have
+overheard her.</p>
+
+<p>The next moment the white rose was snugly peeping out from among the
+coils of her rich hair. Her dress was fastened at the throat with a
+pearl brooch. She was in simple white from top to toe.</p>
+
+<p>"How late you are, Hilda," said Aunt Marjorie. "I was getting quite
+nervous. You know I hate to be alone in the drawing room when our
+visitors come; and really, my love, what a simple dress&mdash;nothing but a
+washing muslin. Did not you hear your father say that the Dean and Mrs.
+Sparks were coming to dinner to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I did, Aunt Marjorie. The cook also knows that the Dean is
+coming to dine. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>Now don't fret, there's a dear. I look nice, don't I?
+that's the main thing."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Hilda, you look beautiful," said Aunt Marjorie solemnly; "but
+after all, when you have a new pink chiffon and&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, auntie dear, I see the Dean stepping out of his brougham."</p>
+
+<p>The other guests followed the Dean and Mrs. Sparks almost immediately.
+Dinner was announced, and the party withdrew to the dining room.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda, in her white dress with her happy sunshiny face, was the
+principal object of attraction at this dinner. There were two or three
+young men present, and they looked at her a good deal. Jasper Quentyns
+favored her with one quick glance; he was sitting at the far end of the
+table, and a very pretty girl was placed at his side. He saw the rose in
+Hilda's hair, and his heart beat quickly; his spirits rose several
+degrees, and he became so delightful and communicative to his neighbor
+that she thought him quite the pleasantest and handsomest man she had
+ever met.</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns did not glance again at Hilda. He was satisfied, for he felt
+pretty sure that a certain question which he meant to ask would be
+answered in the way he wished.</p>
+
+<p>The dinner came to an end, and the ladies <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>withdrew into the drawing
+room. Two little figures in white dresses were waiting to receive them.
+Babs trotted everywhere, and was universally admired, petted, and
+praised. Judy stood in the shadow behind one of the curtains and watched
+Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"Come out, Judy, and be sociable," said her sister.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to talk. I am so happy here, Hilda," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>"I do like spiders when they are very, very fat," sounded Babs' voice
+across the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you droll little creature!" exclaimed a lady who sat near; "why, I
+should fly from a spider any distance."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you like earwigs better," said Babs.</p>
+
+<p>"Earwigs, they are horrors; oh, you quaint, quaint little soul."</p>
+
+<p>Babs did not care to be called a quaint little soul. She trotted across
+the room and stood by Judy's side.</p>
+
+<p>"There's nobody at all funny here," she said in a whisper. "I wish I had
+my Kitty Tiddliwinks to play with; I don't care for fine ladies."</p>
+
+<p>"It is time for you to go to bed, Babs," said Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"No, it isn't. I am not going before you go. You always talk as if I
+were a baby, and I aren't. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>Judy, you might tell me now what it is to be
+engaged to be married."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I can't tell you now," said Judy; "the gentlemen are coming in, and
+we mustn't talk and interrupt. If you won't go to bed you must stay
+quiet. You know if Aunt Marjorie sees you she'll send you off at once;
+now they are going to sing; ah, that'll be jolly. You stay quiet, Babs,
+and listen."</p>
+
+<p>Four young men surrounded the piano. Jasper Quentyns was one; Hilda
+played the accompaniment. The four voices did ample justice to the
+beautiful glee&mdash;"Men were deceivers ever." The well-known words were
+applauded vigorously, the applause rose to an encore. Judy listened as
+if fascinated.</p>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="ix">"Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Men were deceivers ever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One foot in sea and one on shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To one thing constant never.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Then sigh not so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But let them go ..."<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's the right thing to do," said Judy, turning round and fixing
+her bright eyes on Babs.</p>
+
+<p>"How funny you look," said Babs; "<em>you</em> ought to go to bed."</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Barbara, what is this about?" said <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>Aunt Marjorie's voice. "You
+up still&mdash;what can Miss Mills be thinking of? Now, little girls, it is
+nine o'clock, and you must both go away. Good-night, Babs dear;
+good-night, Judy."</p>
+
+<p>"Mayn't I say good-night to Hilda?" whispered Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"No, she's busy; run away this moment. Judy, if you question me I shall
+have to appeal to your father. Now, my loves, go."</p>
+
+<p>The little girls left the room, Babs complacently enough, Judy
+unwillingly. Babs was sleepy, and was very glad to lay her little head
+on her white pillow; but sleep was very far away from Judy's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The little girls' bedroom was over a portion of the drawing room. They
+could hear the waves of the music and the light conversation and the gay
+laughter as they lay in their cots. The sounds soon mingled with Babs'
+dreams, but Judy felt more restless and less sleepy each moment.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Mills had entire care of the children. She dressed them and
+undressed them as well as taught them. She had left them now for the
+night. Miss Mills at this moment was writing an indignant letter in
+reply to the one which had so excited her feelings this morning. Her
+schoolroom was far away. Judy knew that she <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>was safe. If she got out of
+bed, no one would hear her. In her little white night-dress she stole
+across the moonlit floor and crept up to the window. She softly
+unfastened the hasp and flung the window open. She could see down into
+the garden, and could almost hear the words spoken in the drawing room.
+Two figures had stepped out of the conservatory and side by side were
+walking across the silvered lawn.</p>
+
+<p>Judy's heart beat with great thumps&mdash;one of these people was her sister
+Hilda, the other was Jasper Quentyns. They walked side by side, keeping
+close to one another. Their movements were very slow, they were talking
+almost in whispers. Hilda's head only reached to Jasper's shoulder; he
+was bending down over her. Presently he took her hand. Judy felt as if
+she should scream.</p>
+
+<p>"He's a horrid, horrid, wicked man," she said under her breath; "he's a
+deceiver. 'Men were deceivers ever.' I know what he is. Oh, what shall I
+do? what shall I do? Oh, Hilda, oh, Hilda, darling, you shan't go
+through the misery of being engaged and then being married. Oh, oh, what
+shall I do to save you, Hilda?"</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns and Hilda were standing still. They had moved out of the line
+of light which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>streamed from the drawing room, and were standing under
+the shadow of a great beech tree. Judy felt that she could almost hear
+their words. From where she leant out of the window she could certainly
+see their actions. Quentyns stooped suddenly and kissed Hilda on her
+forehead; Hilda looked up at him and laid both her hands in his. He
+folded them in a firm pressure, and again stooping, kissed her twice.</p>
+
+<p>Upstairs in the nursery, misery was filling one little heart to the
+brim. A sob caught Judy's breath&mdash;she felt as if she should choke. She
+dared not look any more, but drawing down the blind, crept back into bed
+and covered her head with the bed-clothes.</p>
+
+<p>In the drawing room the guests stopped on, and never missed the two who
+had stolen away across the moonlit lawn. One girl, it is true, might
+have been noticed to cast some anxious glances toward the open window,
+and the companion who talked to her could not help observing that she
+scarcely replied to his remarks, and was not fully alive to his
+witticisms; but the rest of the little world jogged on its way merrily
+enough, unconscious of the Paradise which was so close to them in the
+Rectory garden, and of the Purgatory which one little soul was enduring
+upstairs.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>"Hilda," said Quentyns, when they had stood for some time under the
+beech tree, and had said many things each to the other, and felt a great
+deal more than could ever be put into words. "Hilda," said Quentyns, and
+all the poetry of the lovely summer evening seemed to have got into his
+eyes and filled his voice, "I give you all, remember, all that a man can
+give. I give you the love of my entire heart. My present is yours, my
+future is to be yours. I live for you, Hilda&mdash;I shall always live for
+you. Think what that means."</p>
+
+<p>"I can quite understand it," replied Hilda, "for I also live for you. I
+am yours, Jasper, for now and always."</p>
+
+<p>"And I am a very jealous man," said Quentyns. "When I give all, I like
+to get all."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"How solemnly you speak," she said, stepping back a pace, and an almost
+imperceptible jar coming into her voice. Then she came close again. "The
+fault you will have to find with me is this, Jasper," she said, looking
+fully at him with her sweet eyes; "I shall love you, if anything, too
+well. No one can ever come between us, unless it is dear little Judy."</p>
+
+<p>"Judy! Don't you think you make too much <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>fuss about that child? She is
+such a morbid little piece of humanity."</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit of it. You don't quite understand her. She and I are much
+more than ordinary sisters to each other. I feel as if I were in a
+certain sense Judy's mother. When mother died she left Judy to me.
+Little darling! No one ever had a more faithful or a nobler heart. You
+must get fond of her too, for my sake; won't you, Jasper?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do anything for your sake, you know that, Hilda. But don't let us
+talk of Judy any more just now&mdash;let us&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Quentyns, is that your voice I hear?" called Aunt Marjorie, from
+the drawing room. "And, Hilda, ought you to be out with the dew falling
+so heavily?"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
+<a name="changes" id="changes"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br />
+
+<small>CHANGES.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sing on! we sing in the glorious weather<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till one steps over the tiny strand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So narrow in sooth, that still together<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On either brink we go hand in hand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The beck grows wider, the hands must sever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On either margin our songs all done;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We move apart, while she singeth ever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Taking the course of the stooping sun.<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;Jean Ingelow.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>About a week after Hilda Merton's engagement, just when her friends were
+full of the event, and congratulations began to pour in on all sides,
+there came a very unexpected blow to the inmates of the peaceful and
+pretty Rectory.</p>
+
+<p>The parish of Little Staunton was large and scattered; it stretched away
+at one side down to the sea, at another it communicated with great open
+moors and tracts of the outlying lands of the New Forest. It was but
+sparsely peopled, and those parishioners who lived in small cottages by
+the sea, and who earned their living as fishermen, were most of them
+very poor. Mr. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>Merton, however, was one of the ideal sort of rectors,
+who helped his flock with temporal as well as spiritual benefits. The
+stipend which he received from the church was not a large one, and every
+penny of it was devoted to the necessities of his poor parishioners.</p>
+
+<p>There came an awful morning, therefore, when a short announcement in the
+local paper, and a long letter from Mr. Merton's lawyer, acquainted him
+with the fact that the Downshire County Bank had stopped payment. In
+plain language, Mr. Merton, from being a wealthy man, became suddenly a
+very poor one.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie cried when she heard the news; Hilda's face turned very
+pale, and Judy and Babs, who were both in the room at the time, felt
+that sort of wonder and perplexity which children do experience when
+they know something is dreadfully wrong, but cannot in the least
+understand what it is.</p>
+
+<p>In the course of the morning Hilda went to her father in his study.</p>
+
+<p>Her face was very white as she opened the door, some of the young soft
+lines of her early youth seemed to have left it; her beautiful brown
+eyes looked in a heavy sort of fashion out at the world from their dark
+surroundings. She came up to her father, and put her hand on his
+shoulder. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>He was bending over his desk, busily writing.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the matter, Hilda?" he asked, glancing up at her with a quick
+start, and an endeavor to make his voice sound as usual.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I have come, father, to say that if you like, I&mdash;I will give up my
+engagement to Jasper Quentyns."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Merton rose from his seat and put his arm round her neck.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child," he said, "it is my comfort to-day to know that you, at
+least, are provided for. Quentyns is fairly well off. If he will take
+you without any fortune, there is certainly no reason why you should not
+go to him."</p>
+
+<p>"Money can't make any difference to Jasper," said Hilda, just a little
+proudly, although her lips trembled; "but I&mdash;it seems wrong that I
+should be so happy when the rest of you are so miserable."</p>
+
+<p>"Tut, tut!" said the Rector. "I shall get over this in time. I own that
+just now the blow is so severe that I can scarcely quite realize it.
+When I opened my eyes this morning, I was pleasantly conscious that I
+was the possessor of a private income of quite two thousand a year; I
+felt this fact in the comforts that surrounded me, and the ease which
+filled my life. Except that small stipend <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>which is represented by my
+living, and which I have always hitherto devoted to the poor of the
+flock, I am now reduced to nothing a year. My poor must divide my money
+with me in future, that is all; I don't intend to be miserable when I
+get accustomed to the change, Hilda. I must dismiss most of the
+servants, and give up the carriage and horses, and live as a poor man
+instead of a rich one; but I owe no man anything, my dear, and I have
+not the least doubt there is a certain zest in poverty which will make
+the new order of things agreeable enough when once I get used to it."</p>
+
+<p>The tears gathered slowly in Hilda's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't feel as if I could quite bear it," she said, with a sob.</p>
+
+<p>The Rector, who was always rather absent-minded, and had a dreamy way of
+looking far ahead even when he was most roused, scarcely noticed Hilda's
+tears. He talked on in a monotonous sort of voice:</p>
+
+<p>"I have not the least doubt that poverty has its alleviations. I have
+heard it more than once remarked that the hand-to-mouth existence is the
+most stimulating in the world. I should not be surprised, Hilda, if my
+sermons took a turn for the better after this visitation. I have
+preached to my flock, year in, year out, that the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>mysterious ways of
+Providence are undoubtedly the best&mdash;I have got to act up to my
+preaching now, that is all."</p>
+
+<p>The Rector sat down again and continued to write a very unbusiness-like
+letter to his lawyer; Hilda stood and looked at him with a frown between
+her brows, and then went slowly out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie, who had cried herself nearly sick, and whose eyes between
+their swollen lids were scarcely visible, came to meet her as she walked
+across the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my darling," she said, with a fresh sob, "how can I bear to look at
+you when I think of all your young life blighted in a moment! Oh, those
+wicked Bank Directors. They deserve hanging! yes, I should hang them one
+and all. And so you have been with my poor brother? I would not venture
+near him. How is he taking it, Hilda? Is he quite off his head, poor,
+dear man?"</p>
+
+<p>"How do you think my father would take a blow of this kind?" said Hilda.
+"Come into the drawing room, Auntie. Oh, Auntie dear, do try to stop
+crying. You don't know what father is. Of course I can't pretend to
+understand him, but he is quite noble&mdash;he is splendid; he makes me
+believe in religion. A man must <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>be very, very good to talk as father
+has just done."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Samuel!" said Aunt Marjorie. "I knew that he would take this blow
+either as a saint or as an idiot&mdash;I don't know which is the most trying.
+You see, Hilda, my love, your father has never had anything to do with
+the petty details of housekeeping. This parish brings in exactly three
+hundred and fifty pounds a year; how are we to pay the wages of nine
+servants, and how are the gardeners to be paid, and the little girls'
+governess, and&mdash;and how is this beautiful house to be kept up on a
+pittance of that sort? Oh, dear; oh, dear! Your father will just say to
+me, 'I know, Marjorie, that you will do your best,' and then he'll
+forget that there is such a thing as money; but I shall never be able to
+forget it, Hilda. Oh, dear; oh, dear! I do think saintly men are awful
+trials."</p>
+
+<p>"But you said just now you thought he would be off his head. You ought
+to be very thankful, Aunt Maggie, that he is taking things as he is. Of
+course the servants must go away, and the establishment must be put on
+an altogether new footing. You'll have to walk instead of ride in
+future, but I don't suppose Judy and Babs will much care, and I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," said Aunt Marjorie, "you will be <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>in your new house in
+London, new-fangled with your position, and highly pleased and proud to
+put Mrs. before your name, and you'll forget all about us. Of course I
+am pleased for you, but you're just as bad as your father when you talk
+in that cool fashion about dismissing the servants, and when you expect
+an old lady like me to tramp all over the place on my feet."</p>
+
+<p>"I told father that if he wished I would break off my engagement."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie dried her eyes when her niece made this speech, and looked
+at her fixedly.</p>
+
+<p>"I do think," she said, "that you're a greater fool even than poor
+Samuel. Is not your engagement to a nice, gentlemanly, clever man like
+Jasper Quentyns the one ray of brightness in this desolate day? You,
+child, at least are provided for."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if you think that I care about being provided for at this
+juncture?" answered Hilda, knitting her brows once again in angry
+perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>She went away to her own room, and sitting before her desk, wrote a long
+letter to her lover.</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns had been called to the Bar, and was already beginning to
+receive "briefs."</p>
+
+<p>His income was by no means large, however, and although he undoubtedly
+loved Hilda for her <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>own sake, he might not have proposed an immediate
+marriage had he not believed that his pretty bride would not come to him
+penniless.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda sat with her pen in her hand, looking down at the blank sheet of
+paper.</p>
+
+<p>By the same post which had brought the lawyer's dreadful letter there
+had come two closely-written sheets from Jasper. He wanted Hilda to
+marry him in the autumn, and he had already begun house-hunting.</p>
+
+<p>"We might find it best to take a small flat for a year," he had written,
+"but if you would rather have a house, darling, say so. Some people
+don't approve of flats. They say they are not so wholesome. One misses
+the air of the staircase, and there is a certain monotony in living
+altogether on one floor which may not be quite conducive to health. On
+the other hand flats are compact, and one knows almost at a glance what
+one's expenses are likely to be. I have been consulting Rivers&mdash;you know
+how often I have talked to you of my friend Archie Rivers&mdash;and he thinks
+on the whole that a flat would be advisable; we avoid rates and taxes
+and all those sort of worries, and if we like to shut up house for a
+week, and run down to the Rectory, why there we are, you know; for the
+house-porter sees to our rooms, and we run no risk from <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>burglars. But
+what do you say yourself, darling, for that is the main point?"</p>
+
+<p>Hilda had read this letter with a beating heart and a certain pleasant
+sense of exhilaration at breakfast that morning, but then this was
+before the blow came&mdash;before Aunt Marjorie's shriek had sounded through
+the room, and before Hilda had caught a glimpse of her father's face
+with the gray tint spreading all over it, before she had heard his
+tremulous words:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Marjorie! God help us! We are ruined."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda read the letter now with very different feelings; somehow or other
+all the rose light had gone out of it. She was a very inexperienced girl
+as far as money matters were concerned. Until to-day money seemed to
+have little part or lot in her life; it had never stirred her nature to
+its depths, it had kindly supplied her with necessities and luxuries; it
+had gilded everything, but she had never known where the gilt came from.
+When she engaged herself to Jasper, he told her that, for the present at
+least, he was a comparatively poor man; he had three hundred a year of
+his own. This he assured her was a mere bagatelle, but as he was almost
+certain to earn as much more in his profession, and as Hilda had money,
+he thought they might marry if she did <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>not mind living very prudently.
+Of course Hilda did not mind&mdash;she knew nothing at all of the money part.
+The whole thing meant love and poetry to her, and she disliked the word
+money coming into it.</p>
+
+<p>To-day, however, things looked different. For the first time she got a
+glimpse of Tragedy. How mean of it, how horrible of it to come in this
+guise! She pressed her hand to her forehead, and wondered what her lover
+could mean when he talked of rates and taxes, and asked her to decide
+between a flat and a house.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what to say," she murmured to herself. "Perhaps we shall
+not be married at all at present. Perhaps Jasper will say we can't
+afford it. Perhaps I ought to answer his question about the flat&mdash;but I
+don't know what to say. I thought we might have had a cottage somewhere
+in one of the suburbs&mdash;with a little garden, and that I might have kept
+fowls, and have had heaps and heaps of flowers. Surely fowls would be
+economical, but I am sure I can't say. I really don't know anything
+whatever about the matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Why are you talking in that funny way half-aloud to yourself, Hilda?"
+asked a little voice with a sad inflection in it.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda slightly turned her head and saw that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>Judy had softly opened the
+door of her bedroom, and was standing in the entrance.</p>
+
+<p>Judy had an uncertain manner about her which was rather new to her
+character, and her face had a somewhat haggard look, unnatural and not
+pleasant to see in so young a child.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, pet, is that you?" said Hilda. "Come and give me a kiss&mdash;I am just
+longing for you&mdash;you're the person of all others to consult. Come along
+and sit down by me. Now, now&mdash;you don't want to strangle me, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>For Judy had rushed upon her sister like a little whirlwind, her strong
+childish arms were flung with almost ferocious tightness round Hilda's
+neck, the skirt of her short frock had swept Jasper's letter to the
+floor, and even upset an ink-pot in its voluminous sweep.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, oh!" said Hilda, "I must wipe up this mess. There, Judy, keep back
+for a moment; it will get upon the carpet, and spoil it if we are not as
+quick as possible. Hand me that sheet of blotting-paper, dear. There
+now, that is better&mdash;I have stopped the stream from descending too far.
+Why, Judith, my dear, you have tears in your eyes. You don't suppose I
+care about the ink being spilt when I get a hug like that from you."</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't crying about the ink," said Judy; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>"what's ink! The tears came
+because I am so joyful."</p>
+
+<p>"You joyful? and to-day?" said Hilda. "You know what has happened, don't
+you, Judy?"</p>
+
+<p>"We are poor instead of rich," said Judy; "what's that? Oh, I am so
+happy&mdash;I am so awfully happy that I scarcely know what to do."</p>
+
+<p>"What a queer little soul you are! Now, now, am I to be swept up in
+another embrace?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, let me, let me&mdash;I haven't kissed you like this since you,
+you&mdash;you got <em>engaged</em>."</p>
+
+<p>"In what a spiteful way you say that last word, Judy; now I come to
+think of it, we <em>have</em> scarcely kissed each other since. But whose fault
+was that? Not mine, I am sure. I was quite hungry for one of your
+kisses, jewel, and now that I have got it I feel ever so much better.
+Sit down by me, and let us talk. Judy, you are a very wise little
+darling, aren't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. If you think so, you darling, I suppose I am."</p>
+
+<p>"I do think so. I have had a letter from Jasper. I want to talk over
+something he says in it with you. Judy dear, he is such a noble fellow."</p>
+
+<p>Judy shut up her firm lips until they looked like a straight line across
+her face.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>"He's such a noble fellow," repeated Hilda. "I can't tell you how glad
+you ought to be to have the prospect of calling a man like Jasper your
+brother; he'll be a great help to you, Judy, by and by."</p>
+
+<p>"No, he won't&mdash;I don't want him to be," said Judy viciously.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I declare, I do believe the dear is jealous; but now to go on.
+Jasper has written to me on a most important subject. Now, if I consult
+you about it you won't ever, ever tell, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, of course I won't. Was it about that you were muttering to yourself
+when I came into the room?"</p>
+
+<p>"You funny puss; yes, I was talking the matter over to myself. Jasper is
+looking out for a house for us."</p>
+
+<p>"He isn't. It's awfully cheeky of him."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Judy, it would be much more cheeky to ask me to go and live in
+the street with him. We must have some residence after we are
+married&mdash;mustn't we? Well, darling, now you must listen very
+attentively; he has asked me whether it would be best for us to live in
+a little house of our own&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Why a little house? he ought to take you to a palace."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>"Don't interrupt; we shall be poor people, quite a poor couple, Jasper
+and I. Now, Judy, just try and get as wise as a Solon. He wants to know
+whether I would rather live in a little house or a flat."</p>
+
+<p>"What's a flat, Hilda?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't quite know myself; but I believe a flat consists of several
+rooms on one floor shut away from the rest of the house by a separate
+hall door. Jasper rather approves of a flat, because he says there won't
+be any rates and taxes. It's very silly, but though I am a grown-up
+girl, I don't exactly know what rates and taxes are&mdash;do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, but I can ask Miss Mills."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't expect she'd know anything about them; it seems so stupid to
+have to write back and tell Jasper that I don't understand what he
+means."</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Marjorie would know," said Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't like to consult her, pet. I think I'd better leave it to
+Jasper to decide."</p>
+
+<p>Judy looked very wise and interested now.</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you say you'd rather go into a little house?" she said; "it
+sounds much more interesting. A flat is an ugly name, and I am quite
+sure it must be an ugly place."</p>
+
+<p>"That is true," said Hilda, pausing and looking <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>straight before her
+with her pretty brows knit. "Oh, dear, oh, dear! I wonder what is right.
+And a little house might have a garden too, mightn't it, Judy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, and a fowl-house and a cote for your pigeons."</p>
+
+<p>"To be sure; and when you come to see me, you should have a strip of
+garden to dig in all for yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, should I really come to see you, Hilda? Miss Mills said that you
+wouldn't want me&mdash;that you wouldn't be bothered with me."</p>
+
+<p>"That I wouldn't be bothered with you? Why, I shall wish to have you
+with me quite half the time. Now, now, am I to be strangled again?
+Please, Judy, abstain from embracing, and tell me whether we are to have
+a flat or a cottage."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you are to have a cottage, with the garden and the
+fowl-house."</p>
+
+<p>"I declare I think I'll take your advice, you little dear. I'll write
+and tell Jasper that I'd much rather have a cottage. Now, who is that
+knocking at the door? Run, Judy, and see what's wanted."</p>
+
+<p>Judy returned in a moment with a telegram.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda tore it open with fingers that slightly trembled.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>"Oh, how joyful, how joyful!" she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"Jasper is coming&mdash;my dear, dear Jasper. See what he says&mdash;'Have heard
+the bad news&mdash;my deepest sympathy&mdash;expect me this evening.' Then I
+needn't write after all. Judy, Judy, I agree with you; I feel quite
+happy, even though it is the dreadful day when the blow has been
+struck."</p>
+
+<p>Judy did not say anything, she rose languidly to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you going?" asked Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"For a walk."</p>
+
+<p>"Why so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Mills said that even though we were poor I was to take the fresh
+air," replied the child in a prim little voice, out of which all the
+spirit had gone.</p>
+
+<p>She kissed Hilda, but no longer in a rapturous, tempestuous fashion, and
+walked soberly out of the room.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
+<a name="garden" id="garden"></a>CHAPTER V.<br />
+
+<small>IN A GARDEN.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block2">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I go like one in a dream, unbidden my feet know the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To that garden where love stood in blossom with the red and white hawthorn of May.<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;Mathilde Blind.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie had cried until she could cry no longer. Hers was a
+slighter nature than either Mr. Merton's or Hilda's. In consequence,
+perhaps, she was able to realize the blow which had come upon them more
+vividly and more quickly than either her brother or niece.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie had taken a great pride in the pretty, well-ordered house.
+She was a capable, a kind, and a considerate mistress. Her servants
+worked well under her guidance. She was set in authority over them; they
+liked her rule, and acknowledged it with cheerful and willing service.</p>
+
+<p>No one could give such perfect little dinner-parties as Aunt Marjorie.
+She had a knack of finding out each of her guests' particular weaknesses
+with regard to the dinner-table. She was no diplomatist, and her
+conversation was considered <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>prosy; but with Mr. Merton to act the
+perfect host and to lead the conversation into the newest intellectual
+channels, with Hilda to look sweet and gracious and beautiful, and with
+Aunt Marjorie to provide the dinner, nothing could have been a greater
+success than the little party which took place on an average once a week
+at the sociable Rectory.</p>
+
+<p>Now all these things were at an end. The servants must go; the large
+house&mdash;which had been added to from time to time by the Rector until it
+had lost all similitude to the ordinary small and cozy Rectory&mdash;the
+great house must remain either partly shut up or only half cleaned.
+There must be no more dinner-parties, and no nice carriage for Aunt
+Marjorie to return calls in. The vineries and conservatories must remain
+unheated during the winter; the gardeners must depart. Weeds must grow
+instead of flowers.</p>
+
+<p>Alack, and alas! Aunt Marjorie felt like a shipwrecked mariner, as she
+sat now in the lovely drawing room and looked out over the summer scene.</p>
+
+<p>With her mind's eye she was gazing at something totally different&mdash;she
+was seeing the beautiful place as it would look in six months' time; she
+saw with disgust the rank and obnoxious <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>weeds, the empty grate, the
+dust-covered ornaments.</p>
+
+<p>"It is worse for us than it would be for ordinary people," she said half
+aloud. "If we were just ordinary people, we could leave here and go into
+a tiny cottage where our surroundings would be in keeping with our
+means; but of course the Rector must live in the Rectory&mdash;at least I
+suppose so. Dear, dear! how sudden this visitation has been&mdash;truly may
+it be said that 'all flesh is grass.'"</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie had a way of quoting sentences which did not at all apply
+to the occasion; these quotations always pleased her, however, and a
+slow smile now played round her lips.</p>
+
+<p>The drawing-room door was opened noisily, and a fat little figure rushed
+across the room and sprang into her arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that you, Babs?" she said. She cuddled the child in a close embrace,
+and kissed her smooth, cool cheek many times.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, of course it's me," said Babs, in her matter-of-fact voice. "Your
+eyes are quite red, Auntie. Have you been crying?"</p>
+
+<p>"We have had dreadful trouble, my darling&mdash;poor Auntie feels very
+miserable&mdash;it is about father. Your dear father has lost all his money,
+my child."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>"Miss Mills told me that half an hour ago," said Babs; "that's why I
+wanted to see you, Auntie. I has got half a sovereign in the Savings
+Bank. I'll give it to father if he wants it."</p>
+
+<p>"You're a little darling," said Aunt Marjorie, kissing her again.</p>
+
+<p>"There's Judy going across the garden," said Babs. "Look at her, she has
+her shoulders hunched up to her ears. She's not a bit of good; she won't
+play with me nor nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"That child doesn't look at all well," said Aunt Marjorie.</p>
+
+<p>She started to her feet, putting Babs on the floor. A new anxiety and a
+new interest absorbed her mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Judy, Judy," she called; "come here, child. I have noticed for the last
+week," she said, speaking her thoughts aloud, "that Judy has black lines
+under her eyes, and a dragged sort of look about her. What can it mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"She cries such a lot," said Babs in her untroubled voice. "I hear her
+when she's in bed at night. I thought she had she-cups, but it wasn't,
+it was sobs."</p>
+
+<p>"<em>She-cups</em>&mdash;what do you mean, child? Judy, come here, darling."</p>
+
+<p>"She-cups," repeated Babs. "Some people <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>call them he-cups; but I don't
+when a girl has them."</p>
+
+<p>Judy came slowly up to the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Where were you going, my pet?" asked Aunt Marjorie.</p>
+
+<p>"Only for a walk," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>"A walk all by yourself? How pale you are, dearie. Have you a headache?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Auntie."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie pulled Judy forward. She felt her forehead and looked at
+her tongue, and put her in such a position that she could gaze down into
+her throat.</p>
+
+<p>Not being able to detect anything the matter, she thought it best to
+scold her niece a little.</p>
+
+<p>"Little girls oughtn't to walk slowly and to be dismal," she said. "It
+is very wrong and ungrateful of them. They ought to run about and skip
+and laugh. Work while you work, and play while you play. That was the
+motto when I was a little girl. Now, Judy, love, go out with Babs and
+have a good romp. You had better both of you go to the hay-field, for it
+might distract your poor father to hear your two merry voices. Run, my
+dears, run; make yourselves scarce."</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Babs," said Judy. She held out her <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>hand to her little sister,
+and the two went away together.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know, Judy," said Babs, the moment they were out of Aunt
+Marjorie's hearing, "that I saw a quarter of an hour ago a great big
+spider in the garden catching a wasp. He rolled the poor wasp round and
+round with his web until he made him into a ball."</p>
+
+<p>"And did you leave that poor wasp to die?" asked Judy, keen interest and
+keen anger coming into her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I didn't," said Babs. "I took him away from the spider. I wouldn't
+be kite so cruel as to let the poor thing die; but I s'pect he'll die
+all the same, for he can't get out of the ball that he's in."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor darling!" said Judy. "Let's go and find him and try to get the web
+off him. Do you know where he is, Babs?"</p>
+
+<p>"I put him on an ivy leaf on the ground," said Babs, "under the yew-tree
+down there. I can find him in a minute."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, let's go and save him as quickly as possible."</p>
+
+<p>The two children rushed with eagerness and vigor down the slops.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie could see them as they disappeared out of sight.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>She turned to weep and bewail herself once more, and Judy and Babs
+began industriously to look for the wasp.</p>
+
+<p>They were busily engaged on their hands and knees searching all over the
+ground for the identical ivy leaf where Babs had placed the rescued
+insect, when a voice sounded in their ears, and Judy raised her head to
+see pretty Mildred Anstruther standing by her side.</p>
+
+<p>Mildred was one of the belles of the county; her hair was as bright as a
+sunbeam, her eyes as blue as a summer sky, her full lips were red, her
+cheeks had the bloom of the peach upon them. Mildred was a well-grown
+girl, with a largely and yet gracefully developed figure.</p>
+
+<p>In addition to her personal charms she had a considerable fortune. It
+went without saying, therefore, that she was greatly admired.</p>
+
+<p>Mildred had often been the talk of Little Staunton; her numerous
+flirtations had caused head-shakings and dismal croaks from many of the
+old maids of the neighborhood. The sterner sex had owned to
+heart-burnings in connection with her, for Mildred could flirt and
+receive any amount of attention without giving her heart in return. She
+was wont to laugh at love affairs, and had often told Hilda that the
+prince to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>whom alone she would give her affections was scarcely likely
+to appear.</p>
+
+<p>"The time when gods used to walk upon the earth is over, my dear Hilda,"
+she used to say. "When I find the perfect man, I will marry him, but not
+before."</p>
+
+<p>Mildred, who was twenty-six years of age, had therefore the youngest and
+smoothest of faces; care had never touched her life, and wrinkles were
+unlikely to visit her.</p>
+
+<p>For some reason, however, she looked careworn now, and Judy, with a
+child's quick perception, noticed it.</p>
+
+<p>She was fond of Mildred, and she put up her lips for a kiss.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter, Milly?" she asked; "have you a cold?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my love; on principle I never allow myself to have anything so
+silly; but I am shocked, Judy&mdash;shocked at what I have read in the
+morning papers."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, about our money," replied Judy in an unconcerned voice. "Have you
+found that wasp, Babs? Are you looking on <em>all</em> the ivy leaves?"</p>
+
+<p>"I picked an ivy leaf, and put it down just here," replied Babs, "and I
+put the wasp in it <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>most carefully; the wind must have caught it and
+blown it away."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear; oh, dear! the poor creature, what will become of it?"
+answered Judy. She was down on her hands and knees again, poking and
+examining, but poking and examining in vain.</p>
+
+<p>"It's very rude of you, Judy, not to pay me the least attention," said
+Mildred. "I have come over on purpose to see you, and there you are
+squatting on the ground, pushing all that rubbish about. You have no
+manners, and I'll tell Hilda so; and, Babs, what are you about not to
+give me a hug?"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;">
+<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="415" height="600" alt="&quot;I HAVE COME ON PURPOSE TO SEE YOU, JUDY.&quot; P. 60." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;i have come on purpose to see you, judy.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Babs raised a somewhat grimy little face.</p>
+
+<p>"We can't find the poor wasp," she said. "He was rolled up in the
+spider's web, and I put him on an ivy leaf, and now he's gone."</p>
+
+<p>"You had better go on looking for him, Babs," said Judy, "and I'll talk
+to Milly." She rose as she spoke and placed her dirty little hand on
+Miss Anstruther's arm. "So you heard about our money, Milly?" she said.
+"Aunt Marjorie is in an awful state, she has cried and cried and cried;
+but the rest of us don't care."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't care? Oh, you queer, queer people! You don't mean to tell me,
+little Judy, that Hilda doesn't care?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>"Hilda cares the least of all," replied Judy; "she has got Jasper."</p>
+
+<p>Judy's face clouded over as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what <em>he'll</em> say to this business," remarked Miss Anstruther,
+half to herself; "he's not at all well off&mdash;it ought to make a
+tremendous difference to him."</p>
+
+<p>"He certainly isn't to be pitied," said Judy; "he's going to get Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>"And what about Hilda's money?" laughed Miss Anstruther. Her face wore
+an expression which was almost disagreeable, her big blue eyes looked
+dark as they gazed at the child.</p>
+
+<p>Judy's own little face turned pale. She didn't understand Miss
+Anstruther, but something impelled her to say with great fierceness:</p>
+
+<p>"I hate Jasper!"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Anstruther stooped down and kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a queer, passionate little thing, Judy," she said, "but it's a
+very good thing for Hilda to be engaged to a nice sensible fellow like
+Jasper Quentyns, and of course it is more important now than ever for
+her. He'll be disappointed, of course, but I dare say they can get along
+somehow. Ah, there's Aunt Marjorie coming out of the house. I must run
+and speak <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>to her, poor dear; how troubled she looks! and no wonder."</p>
+
+<p>Mildred ran off, and Judy stood where she had left her, in the center of
+the lawn, quivering all over.</p>
+
+<p>What did Milly mean by saying that Jasper would be disappointed&mdash;Jasper,
+who was going to get Hilda&mdash;Hilda herself? What could anyone want more
+than the sun? what could any man desire more than the queen of all
+queens, the rose of all roses?</p>
+
+<p>Thoughts like these flitted through little Judy's mind in confused
+fashion. Hilda was to be married to Jasper, and the Rectory of Little
+Staunton would know her no more. That indeed was a sorrow to make
+everyone turn sick and pale, but the loss of the money was not worth a
+moment's consideration.</p>
+
+<p>Judy wandered about, too restless and unhappy to settle to her play.
+Babs shouted in the distance that the wasp was not to be seen. Even the
+fate of the poor wasp scarcely interested Judy at present. She was
+watching for Mildred to reappear that she might join her in the avenue
+and ask why she dared to say those words about Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Judy," said Miss Anstruther by and by, "here I am, back at last.
+I saw Aunt Marjorie, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>but I didn't see the Rector, and I didn't see
+Hilda. Aunt Marjorie tells me that Jasper Quentyns is coming down
+to-night, so I suppose he's going to take everything all right."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, Milly?" asked Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you look at me in that fierce way, you small atom?" answered
+Mildred, stopping in her walk and looking at the child with an amused
+smile on her face.</p>
+
+<p>"Because I don't understand you," said Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"It is scarcely likely you should, my darling. Let me see, how old are
+you&mdash;nine? Well, you'll know something of what I mean when you're
+nineteen. Now I must go."</p>
+
+<p>"No, stop a bit, Milly. I don't understand you, but I hate hints. Miss
+Mills hints things sometimes, and oh, how I detest her when she does!
+and you're hinting now, and it is something against Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>"Against Hilda? Oh, good gracious, child, what an awful cram!"</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't a cram, it is true. I can't explain it, but I know you're
+hinting something against darling Hilda. Why should you say that Jasper
+will be disappointed? Isn't she going away with him some day? and aren't
+they going to live in&mdash;in a horrid&mdash;a horrid <em>flat</em> together, and she
+won't even have a garden, nor fowls, nor flowers? <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>And you say Jasper
+will be disappointed. Everything is going when Hilda goes, and you speak
+as if Jasper wasn't the very luckiest person in all the wide world. <em>I</em>
+know what it means; yes, I know. Oh, Milly, I'm so unhappy. Oh, Milly,
+what <em>shall</em> I do when Hilda goes away?"</p>
+
+<p>Mildred was impulsive and kind-hearted, notwithstanding the very decided
+fit of jealousy which was now over her. She put her arm round Judy and
+tried to comfort her.</p>
+
+<p>"You poor little thing," she said, "you poor little jealous, miserable
+mite. How could you think you were going to keep your Hilda always?
+There, Judy, there, darling, I really am sorry for you&mdash;I really am, but
+you know Hilda is pretty and sweet, and someone wants her to make
+another home beautiful. There, I'll say something to comfort you&mdash;I'll
+eat all the words I have already uttered, and tell you emphatically from
+my heart of hearts that Hilda is too good for Jasper Quentyns."</p>
+
+<p>"Judy, Judy, Judy! I have found the wasp," shouted Babs.</p>
+
+<p>Judy dried her eyes hastily, kissed Mildred, and ran across the lawn to
+her little sister.</p>
+
+<p>"What a queer child Judy Merton is," said Mildred to herself. "What
+tempestuous little creatures some children are. How passionately <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>she
+spoke about Hilda, and now her whole heart and soul are devoted to the
+rescuing of a miserable insect. Yes, of course Jasper is not good enough
+for Hilda. He has plenty of faults, he is not the prince I have been
+looking for, and yet&mdash;and yet&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Her heart beat quickly, the color rushed into her face, she felt her
+firm lips tremble, and knew that her eyes were shining with unusual
+brilliance. Someone was coming along the path to meet her. A man with
+the sunlight shining all over him&mdash;an athletic figure, who walked with
+the swift bounding step of youth. He was Jasper Quentyns.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo!" he called, catching sight of her. "I was fortunate in getting
+an earlier train than I had hoped for, and here I am two hours before I
+was expected. How is Hilda? Have you been at the house? Are they all
+fearfully cut up?"</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do, Mr. Quentyns?" replied Mildred. "Yes, I have been at the
+house, and I have seen Judy and Aunt Marjorie. Judy seems to me to be in
+a very excitable and feverish state of mind."</p>
+
+<p>"She's rather spoilt, isn't she?" said Quentyns.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, she's Hilda's special darling, the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>first in her heart by
+many degrees&mdash;after&mdash;after somebody else."</p>
+
+<p>"But how could a child like Judy know anything about money loss?"</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't the money that's troubling her at the present moment, it's a
+poor wasp. Now pray don't look so bewildered, and do try and forget
+about Judy. Aunt Marjorie is taking her trouble in a thoroughly
+practical and Aunt Marjorie style. I have not seen Hilda, nor have I
+seen the Rector."</p>
+
+<p>"It will be an awful blow to them all," said Quentyns.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied Miss Anstruther, looking him straight in the eyes, "an
+awful blow. And you feel it far more than Hilda," she soliloquized, as
+she walked back to her own home.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
+<a name="wedding" id="wedding"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br />
+
+<small>THE EVE OF THE WEDDING.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where shall I find a white rose blowing?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Out in the garden where all sweets be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But out in my garden the snow was snowing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And never a white rose opened for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Naught but snow and a wind were blowing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And snowing.<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;Christina G. Rossetti.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Notwithstanding Mildred Anstruther's inward prognostications, there came
+no hitch to Hilda Merton's engagement. Quentyns behaved as the best and
+most honorable of men. He was all that was tender and loving to Hilda,
+and he immediately took that position toward Mr. Merton which a son
+might have held. Quentyns was a good business man, and in the
+catastrophe which overwhelmed the Rectory, he proved himself invaluable.</p>
+
+<p>On one point, however, he was very firm. His marriage with Hilda must
+not be delayed. No persuasive speeches on her part, no longing looks out
+of Judy's hungry eyes, no murmurs on the part of Aunt Marjorie, would
+induce him to put off the time of the wedding by a single day.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>He used great tact in this matter, for Quentyns was the soul of tact,
+and it quite seemed to the family, and even to Hilda herself, that <em>she</em>
+had suggested the eighth of January as the most suitable day in the
+whole year for a wedding&mdash;it seemed to the whole family, and even to
+Hilda herself, that <em>she</em> was the one who desired to go, whereas in her
+heart of hearts, in that innermost heart which she scarcely ventured to
+probe at all just now, she would have gladly shared Aunt Marjorie's
+discomforts and sat by her father's side while he composed those sermons
+which were to teach his flock, with a sure note of truth running through
+them, that the blessed man is the man whom the Lord God chasteneth.</p>
+
+<p>The wedding-day was fixed, and notwithstanding poverty and its attendant
+shadows, preparations for the great event went on merrily enough.</p>
+
+<p>A check for Hilda's trousseau was sent to her by a rich aunt in India,
+and the pleasant excitement which even the quietest wedding always
+causes began to pervade the Rectory.</p>
+
+<p>When the day was finally arranged, Aunt Marjorie ceased to murmur and
+cry. She talked a great deal now of Hilda's coming responsibilities, and
+spent all her leisure moments copying out receipts which she thought
+might be useful <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>to her niece in her new position as wife and
+housekeeper.</p>
+
+<p>"You have never yet told me where you are going to live, Hilda," she
+said, on the New Year's Day which preceded the wedding.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not quite sure myself," replied Hilda. "Jasper has seen a great
+many suburban houses which he does not quite like, and a great many
+flats which he considers absolutely perfect. He says there is no special
+hurry about choosing a house, for after we have returned from our
+wedding tour we are to stay with some of his relations in town, and
+during that time we can make up our minds as to what kind of home we
+will have."</p>
+
+<p>"Very prudent of Jasper," said Aunt Marjorie. "He really is an excellent
+fellow&mdash;so wonderfully thoughtful for such a young man. Of course he has
+far too much sense to think of selecting a house for you himself. As to
+a flat, you will of course not dream of going into one&mdash;a house is
+better in all respects, more airy and more interesting."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like a house best," said Hilda, "but Jasper, of course, is the
+one really to decide."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, there you are wrong, my love. <em>You</em> are undoubtedly the right
+person to make the final choice. I am old-fashioned in my ideas, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>Hilda,
+and I think the wife ought to be in subjection to her husband, for we
+have Scripture for it, but I don't believe St. Paul meant that rule to
+extend to domestic matters. In domestic matters the wife <em>ought</em> to have
+the casting vote. Be sure, my dear Hilda, you don't yield to Jasper in
+domestic affairs&mdash;you will rue it if you do&mdash;and be quite sure that in
+selecting a house you have a wide entrance-hall, a spacious staircase,
+and a large drawing room."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Auntie, such a house will be beyond our means."</p>
+
+<p>"Tut, tut, my love&mdash;the rent <em>may</em> be a few pounds more, but what of
+that? A large entrance-hall is really essential; and as it is easier to
+keep large rooms and wide staircases clean than small ones, your
+servants will have less to do and you will save the extra rent in that
+way. Now here is your great-grandmother's receipt for plum-pudding&mdash;two
+dozen eggs, three pounds raisins, one pound citron. Hilda, I
+particularly want to give you a hint about the <em>spice</em> for this pudding;
+ah, and I must speak also about this white soup&mdash;it is simply made, and
+at the same time delicious&mdash;the stock from two fowls&mdash;one pint single
+cream&mdash;your father is particularly fond of it. Yes, Susan, what is the
+matter?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>"A parcel for Miss Hilda, ma'am," said the neat parlor-maid. "It has
+come by 'Carter Patterson'; and will you put your name here, please,
+Miss Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda signed her name obediently, and a square wooden box was brought
+in. It was opened by Aunt Marjorie herself with great solemnity. Judy
+and Babs came and looked on, and there were great expressions of rapture
+when an exquisite afternoon tea-service of Crown Derby was exhibited to
+view.</p>
+
+<p>Wedding presents were pouring in from all quarters. Hilda put this one
+away with the others, and calmly continued her occupation of adding up
+some parochial accounts for her father. She was a very careful
+accountant, and had the makings in her of a good business woman when she
+had gained a little experience.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie sat and mumbled little disjointed remarks with regard to
+her niece's future state and subjection. She gave her many hints as to
+when she was to yield to her husband and when she was to firmly uphold
+her own will.</p>
+
+<p>Had Hilda followed out Aunt Marjorie's precepts, or even been greatly
+influenced by them, she and Jasper would have had a very unhappy future,
+but she had a gentle and respectful way of listening to the old lady
+without taking in a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>great deal that she said. Her thoughts were divided
+now between Jasper and Judy. Her heart felt torn at the thought of
+leaving her little sister, and she had an instinctive feeling, which she
+had never yet put into words, that Judy and Jasper were antagonistic to
+each other, and, what is more, would always remain so.</p>
+
+<p>Judy had seen the Crown Derby service unpacked, and then, in the sober
+fashion which more or less characterized all her actions of late, she
+left the room.</p>
+
+<p>She went up to the bedroom which she and Babs shared together, and
+sitting down by the window, rested her chubby cheek against her hand.</p>
+
+<p>Babs was kneeling down in a distant corner, pulling a doll's bedstead to
+pieces for the express purpose of putting it together again.</p>
+
+<p>"My doll Lily has been very naughty to-day," she said, "and I am going
+to put her to bed. She wouldn't half say her lessons this morning, and
+she deserves to be well punished. What are you thinking of, Judy, and
+why do you pucker up your forehead? It makes you look so cross."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind about my forehead. I have a lot of things to think of just
+now. I can't be always laughing and talking like you."</p>
+
+<p>Babs paused in the act of putting a sheet on <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>her doll's bed to gaze at
+Judy with great intentness.</p>
+
+<p>"You might tell me what's the matter with you," she said, after a moment
+of silence; "you are not a bit interesting lately; you're always
+thinking and always frowning, unless at night when you are sobbing."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't!" said Judy. "Don't you see what it is, Babs&mdash;can't you
+guess?&mdash;it is only a week off now."</p>
+
+<p>"What's only a week off?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda's wedding. Oh, dear; oh, dear! I wish I were dead; I do wish I
+were dead."</p>
+
+<p>Babs did not think this remark of poor Judy's worth replying to. She
+gravely finished making her doll's bed, tucked Lily up comfortably, and
+coming over to the window, knelt down, placed her elbows on the ledge,
+and looked out at the snowy landscape.</p>
+
+<p>"Hasn't Hilda got lots and lots of presents?" she said, after a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I don't want to see them, though."</p>
+
+<p>"Everyone is giving her a present," continued Babs, in her calm voice,
+"even Miss Mills and the servants. Susan told me that the schoolchildren
+were collecting money to buy her something, and&mdash;may I tell you a
+'mendous big secret, Judy?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>Judy ceased to frown, and looked at Babs with a faint dawning of
+interest in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I has got a present for her too," said Babs, beginning to dance about.
+"I am not going to give it till the day of the wedding. I buyed it my
+own self, and it's <em>quite</em> beautiful. What are you going to give her,
+Judy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. I haven't any money."</p>
+
+<p>"I have half a sovereign in the Savings Bank, but I can't take it out
+until after I am seven. I wish I could, for I could lend it to you to
+give Hilda a wedding present."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you could," said Judy. "I'd like awfully to give her something.
+You might tell me what you have got, Babs."</p>
+
+<p>"It's some darning-cotton," said Babs in a whisper. "I buyed it last
+week with twopence-halfpenny; you remember the day I went with Mrs.
+Sutton to town. She said it was a very useful thing, for Hilda will want
+to mend Jasper's socks, and if she hasn't darning-cotton handy maybe
+he'll scold her."</p>
+
+<p>"He wouldn't dare to," said Judy, with a frown; "she <em>shan't</em> mend his
+horrid socks. Why did you get such a nasty wedding present, Babs?"</p>
+
+<p>A flush of delicate color spread all over Babs' little fair face. She
+winked her blue eyes hard <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>to keep back the tears which Judy's scathing
+remarks were bringing to the surface, and said, after a pause:</p>
+
+<p>"It's not a horrid present, it's lovely; and anyhow"&mdash;her voice becoming
+energetic as this happy mode of revenge occurred to her&mdash;"it is better
+than yours, for you has got nothing at all."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'll have something when the day comes," replied Judy, in a
+would-be careless tone.</p>
+
+<p>"But you hasn't any money."</p>
+
+<p>"Money isn't everything. I'll manage, you'll see."</p>
+
+<p>From this moment Judy's whole heart and soul were absorbed in one fierce
+desire to give Hilda a present which should be better and sweeter and
+more full of love than anybody else's.</p>
+
+<p>After two or three days of anxious thought and nights of troubled
+dreams, she made up her mind what her present should be. It should
+consist of holly berries and ivy, and these holly berries and that ivy
+should be picked by Judy's own fingers, and should be made into a
+bouquet by Judy herself; and the very center of this bouquet should
+contain a love-note&mdash;a little twisted note, into which Judy would pour
+some of her <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>soul. It should be given to Hilda at the very last moment
+when she was starting for church; and though she was all in white from
+top to toe&mdash;all in pure white, with a bouquet of white flowers in her
+hand&mdash;yet she should carry Judy's bouquet, with its thorns and its
+crimson berries, as a token of her little sister's faithful love.</p>
+
+<p>"She shall carry it to church with her," said Judy, with inward passion.
+"I'll make her promise beforehand, and I know she won't break her word
+to me. It will be a little bit of me she'll have with her, even when she
+is giving herself to that horrid Jasper."</p>
+
+<p>The little girl quite cheered up when this idea came to her. She became
+helpful and pleasant once more, and allowed Babs to chatter to her about
+the insect world, which had now practically gone to sleep; and about the
+delights of the time when their chrysalides, which they had put away so
+carefully in the butterfly-case, should burst out into living and
+beautiful things.</p>
+
+<p>The day before the wedding came, and the whole house was in pleasant
+bustle and confusion. Nearly all the presents had arrived by this time.
+The school children had come up to the Rectory in a body to present
+Hilda with a very large and gaudily decorated photographic album; the
+Rectory servants had given the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>bride-elect a cuckoo-clock; Miss Mills
+had blushed as she presented her with a birth-day book bound in white
+vellum; "Carter Patterson's" people were tired of coming up the avenue
+with box after box; and Aunt Marjorie was tired of counting on her
+fingers the names of the different friends who were sure to remember
+such an important event as Hilda Merton's wedding.</p>
+
+<p>But for Aunt Marjorie, Hilda would have given herself to Jasper in a
+very quiet and unobtrusive fashion. But this idea of a wedding was such
+intense grief to the old lady that Hilda and Jasper, rather against
+their wills, abandoned it, and Hilda was content to screen her lovely
+face behind a white veil, and to go to church decked as a bride should.</p>
+
+<p>"It is positively economical to get a proper wedding dress," said Aunt
+Marjorie; "you'll want it for the parties you'll go to during your first
+season in town, Hilda. Of course Lady Malvern, Jasper's aunt, will
+present you, and the dress with a little alteration will do very well to
+go to the Drawing Room in. I shall desire the dressmaker to make the
+train quite half a yard extra, on purpose."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie had her way, and was sufficiently happy in her present
+life to forget the dull <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>days which must follow, and to cease to think
+of the deserted house when Hilda, and wealth, and luxury, went away.</p>
+
+<p>It was the evening before the wedding-day, when Babs came solemnly into
+the room where her sister was sitting, and presented her with her
+wedding gift.</p>
+
+<p>"It's darning-cotton," said Babs, in her gentle, full, satisfied
+fashion. "Sutton said it would be useful, and that Jasper wouldn't scold
+you if you had it handy."</p>
+
+<p>"What treason are you talking, Babs?" asked Quentyns, who was standing
+by Hilda's side.</p>
+
+<p>He stooped down, and mounted her on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Sutton says that husbands always scold their wives," said Babs.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense, child! Sutton doesn't speak the truth. I would far rather
+scold myself than Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, at any rate here's the cotton. I spent all my money on it except
+the ten shillings in the Savings Bank; and, Hilda, you <em>will</em> use it
+when Jasper's socks get into holes."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I will, you dear little darling," said Hilda. "I think it is
+a perfectly sweet present. Give it to me; I was just packing my
+work-basket, and in it shall go this minute. I'll <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>think of you every
+time I use a thread of this cotton, Babs."</p>
+
+<p>"Babs, Miss Mills says it is quite time for you to go to bed," said
+Judy, who was standing at the back of Hilda's chair, softly touching her
+bright head from time to time with the tips of her little fingers.</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns laughed when Judy spoke in her solemn voice.</p>
+
+<p>"And what about Judy's time for going to bed?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I am much older than Babs, and Hilda said&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Jasper; I said Judy should have a little talk with me all by
+myself to-night," said Hilda, putting back her hand and drawing her
+little sister forward. "Here's a tiny bit of my chair for you to sit
+upon, Judy dearest."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll take Babs upstairs," said Jasper. "Put your arms tightly
+round my neck, you quaint monkey, and I'll race up to your room with
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda," said Judy, the moment the door had closed behind the two, "I
+haven't given you my present yet."</p>
+
+<p>"My darling," said Hilda, "when we love as you and I love each other,
+presents mean nothing&mdash;nothing at all. I know you have no <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>money,
+dearest little Judy and I think it was so sweet of you not to ask for
+any. Your present to me is your thoughtfulness; no gift could be
+sweeter."</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda, may I rest my head against your shoulder?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, darling. Now aren't we cozy?"</p>
+
+<p>"We are; I feel warm now, and&mdash;and happy. I won't be able to sit like
+this for a long time again."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes you will, for you're coming to stay with us; as soon as ever we get
+into our house, or our flat, or wherever we shall live, you are to come.
+One of the very first rooms I shall furnish will be your little bedroom,
+my Judy."</p>
+
+<p>"And then I can sit close to you every night. But oh, Hilda, <em>he'll</em> be
+there, he won't like it."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he will; he'll like anything that I like. There is an old proverb
+that I must repeat for your benefit&mdash;'Love me, love my dog.' That means
+that those whom I love you ought to love."</p>
+
+<p>"Ought I? Very well, I'll try to love&mdash;Jasper. Anything that you say
+I'll try to do. Hilda, why does loving a person give pain? I have an
+ache in my heart&mdash;a big ache. There now, what a horrid girl I am! I am
+making your eyes fill with tears. You shan't be unhappy <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>just when
+you're going to be made into a beautiful white bride. Sutton says it is
+unlucky for a bride to cry. You shan't cry, Hilda, you shan't&mdash;you
+mustn't."</p>
+
+<p>"But I can't help crying, Judy, when I think that you are unhappy, and
+when you speak of your love to me as a pain."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll never speak of it again. I'll be happy&mdash;I won't fret&mdash;no, I won't
+fret at all, and I won't cry even once," said the child, making a
+valiant effort to bring a smile to her face. "Hilda, will you promise me
+something very, very solemnly?"</p>
+
+<p>"If it is in my power I certainly will, my pet."</p>
+
+<p>"You have not got my wedding present yet, Hilda; but it is coming.
+Promise me&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What, darling?"</p>
+
+<p>"Promise to take it to church with you to-morrow&mdash;I'll give it to you
+just before church&mdash;it will be full of me&mdash;my very heart will be in
+it&mdash;take it to church with you, Hilda, and hold it in your hand when
+you're giving yourself to Jasper&mdash;promise&mdash;promise."</p>
+
+<p>"How excited you are, my dearest! If it makes you really happy to know
+that I shall hold something of yours in my hand when I am being married,
+I will certainly do so."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it does make me happy, it does!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
+<a name="present" id="present"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br />
+
+<small>A WEDDING PRESENT.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But my lover will not prize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the glory that he rides in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When he gazes in my face:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He will say: "O Love, thine eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Build the shrine my soul abides in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And I kneel here for thy grace!"<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;E. Barrett Browning.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>There was a holly tree not far from the church with berries so red and
+leaves so green and shining that it was generally denuded of its
+beauties to decorate the most important parts of the church.</p>
+
+<p>Judy knew this holly tree well. It had been much crippled in shape and
+color for the Christmas decorations, but one perfect branch had been
+left where the berries still grew in full rich clusters&mdash;this special
+branch had not been noticed by the gardener when he was cutting the
+holly for Christmas, and Judy determined that from it she would pick the
+crimson berries which were to constitute Hilda's wedding present.</p>
+
+<p>"Barnes," she said to the old gardener the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>day before, "you mustn't
+allow anyone to touch my bough of holly."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Miss Judy, you're a queer child; what bough of holly do you
+mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"The bough on the round tree near the church. I want it most particular
+badly; you won't let anyone pick it&mdash;will you, Barnes?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, that I won't," said Barnes, good-naturedly; and Judy, quite
+satisfied and happy in her mind, ran away.</p>
+
+<p>On the wedding morning, just when the day broke, she got softly, very
+softly out of bed. Babs was having happy dreams at the moment, for
+smiles were flitting across her face and her lips were moving. Judy,
+heavy-eyed and pale, rose from her broken slumbers and proceeded to
+dress herself. She must go out now to fetch her holly bough. She could
+dress herself nicely; and putting on a warm jacket she ran downstairs
+and let herself out into the foggy, frosty air. She was warmly clad as
+to her head and throat, but she had not considered it necessary to put
+on her out-door boots. The boots took a long time to lace, and as she
+did not expect to be absent from the house more than ten or twelve
+minutes, she did not think it worth while to go to this trouble.</p>
+
+<p>She ran swiftly now, her heart beating with a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>certain pleasurable
+excitement. It was so nice to be able to make a beautiful, quaint
+wedding present out of the red berries and the glistening leaves and the
+little note full of love hiding away in their depths. How delighted
+Hilda would be by and by to open that note and to read some of Judy's
+innermost thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>"Even though she has Jasper, she loves me," thought the child. "She will
+know <em>something</em> of what I think of her, the darling, when she has read
+my note."</p>
+
+<p>The little letter, written on a tiny pink sheet of paper, was put away
+all ready in Judy's drawer; she had but to cut the bough of holly and
+her unique wedding present would be almost ready. She reached the tree,
+having to go to it through long grass heavy with hoar frost. Her
+stockings and feet were already very wet, but she thought nothing of
+this fact in her excitement. She had a small knife in her pocket which
+she proceeded to take out in order to cut the bough away&mdash;it grew low
+down and she had to pull the grass aside to look for it.</p>
+
+<p>Alack, and alas! where was it, who had taken it? Had wicked, wicked
+Barnes been faithless? There was a torn gash on the trunk of the tree,
+and no long bough red with berries was anywhere to be seen.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>Poor little Judy could not help uttering a cry of anguish. Hot anger
+against Barnes swelled up in her heart. Miss Mills was in reality the
+culprit. Knowing nothing of Judy's desire, she had cut the bough late
+the night before for some window decoration.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't go back to the house until I get some holly," thought the
+child. She wiped away her fast-falling tears and set her sharp little
+wits to work. This was the most scarce time in the whole winter for
+holly berries, the greater number of them having been used for church
+and Christmas decorations; but Judy, whose keen eyes noticed Nature in
+all her aspects, suddenly remembered that on the borders of a lake
+nearly a mile away grew another holly tree&mdash;a small and unremarkable
+bush which might yet contain sufficient bright berries for her purpose.
+Without an instant's hesitation she determined to walk that mile and
+reach that tree. She must go quickly if she would be back before anyone
+noticed her. She was particularly anxious that her gift should not be
+seen in advance. Running, racing, and scrambling she effected her
+purpose, reached the tree, secured some berries and leaves, and returned
+to the house wet through and very tired.</p>
+
+<p>Babs was rubbing her eyes and stretching her <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>limbs in her snug bed in
+the nursery when her sister came back.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Judy, what have you been doing?" she exclaimed, sitting up and
+staring in round-eyed astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, Babs," said Judy, "don't speak for a moment&mdash;don't say a single
+word until I have locked the door."</p>
+
+<p>"But you oughtn't to lock the door. Miss Mills doesn't wish it."</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to disobey her."</p>
+
+<p>"But you'll be punished."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care."</p>
+
+<p>The key was turned in the lock, and Judy, going over to Babs' bed,
+exhibited her spoils.</p>
+
+<p>"See," she said, "here's my wedding present."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you go to fetch those holly berries this morning?" asked Babs.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I did, and I had to go a long way for them too; that horrid,
+wicked old Barnes had cut away my bough, and I had to go all the way to
+the lake."</p>
+
+<p>"Your feet do look so sloppy and wet."</p>
+
+<p>"So they are, they are soaking; I forgot to put on my boots."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, won't you catch an awful cold! won't Miss Mills be angry!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>"Never mind; I'll change my stockings and shoes after I have arranged
+my present."</p>
+
+<p>"It's such a funny wedding present," said Babs. "Do you think Hilda will
+like it?"</p>
+
+<p>"She'll do more than like it: she'll love it. Don't talk to me any
+more&mdash;I'm too busy to answer you."</p>
+
+<p>Babs fidgeted and mumbled to herself. Judy stood with her back to her.
+She used her little fingers deftly&mdash;her taste as to arrangement and
+color was perfect. The sharp thorns pricked her poor little fingers, but
+she was rather glad than otherwise to suffer in Hilda's cause. The
+wedding present was complete, no sign of the note could be seen in the
+midst of the green leaves and crimson berries. Judy unlocked the door
+and tumbled back into bed. Miss Mills knew nothing of her escapade, for
+Babs was far too stanch to betray her.</p>
+
+<p>Just as Hilda in a cloud of white was stepping into the carriage to go
+to church that morning, a little figure, also in cloudy white with
+wide-open greeny-gray eyes, under which heavy dark marks were already
+visible, rushed up to her and thrust something into her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Your&mdash;your wedding present, Hilda," gasped Judy. The strong colors of
+the red and green made almost a blot upon Hilda's fairness. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>Her father,
+who was accompanying her to church, interposed.</p>
+
+<p>"Stand back, my dear, stand back, Judy," he said. "Hilda, you had better
+leave those berries in the hall; you're surely not going to take them to
+church."</p>
+
+<p>"Your promise, Hilda, your faithful promise," said Judy in an imploring
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda looked at the child; she remembered her words of the night before,
+and holding the prickly little bunch firmly, said in a gentle voice:</p>
+
+<p>"I particularly want to take Judy's present to church with me, father."</p>
+
+<p>"As you like, my love, of course; but it is not at all in keeping with
+that lovely bouquet of hot-house white flowers sent to you by Lady
+Dellac&oelig;ur."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, if so, Lady Dellac&oelig;ur's flowers shall stay at home," said
+Hilda. She tossed the splendid bouquet on the hall table, and with
+Judy's holly berries in her hand, sprang into the carriage.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't she a darling?" said Judy, turning with eyes that glowed in their
+happiness to Miss Mills.</p>
+
+<p>"A goose, I call her," muttered Miss Mills; but Judy neither heard nor
+heeded her words.</p>
+
+<p>The little church was nearly full of spectators, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>and one and all did
+not fail to remark Judy's wedding present. A bride in white from top to
+toe&mdash;a lovely bride in the tenderest bloom of youth, to carry a bouquet
+of strong dark green and crimson&mdash;had anything so incongruous ever been
+seen before? But Hilda held the flowers tightly, and Judy's hungry heart
+was satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by, my darling," said Hilda to her little sister a couple of hours
+later; "good-by, Judy; my first letter shall be to you, and I will
+carefully keep your dear wedding present."</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda, Hilda, there's a little note inside of it, in the heart of it;
+you'll read it, won't you, and you won't show it to Jasper?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you wish me not, I won't, dearest. How hot your lips are, Judy, and
+how flushed your face."</p>
+
+<p>"I am just a wee bit shivery," said Judy, "but it's nothing, nothing at
+all. I'll promise you not to fret, Hilda. Good-by, dear, dear, darling
+Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by, my sweetest little treasure, good-by."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda got into the carriage; her husband took his place by her side.
+Mildred Anstruther tossed a great shower of rice after them, Miss <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>Mills
+and Babs hurled slippers down the avenue, Judy was nowhere to be seen.</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda," said Quentyns, as they were driving to the station, "why did
+you have such a very funny bouquet in church? You showed me Lady
+Dellac&oelig;ur's flowers last night. Why didn't you wear them, darling?
+Those harsh holly berries and leaves weren't in your usual taste."</p>
+
+<p>"But you're not angry with me for carrying that little bouquet, Jasper,
+are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"My darling, could I be angry with you for anything?"</p>
+
+<p>"The little bunch of holly was Judy's wedding present," said Hilda,
+tears dimming her eyes; "I promised her that I would wear them. Sweet
+little darling, my heart aches at leaving her."</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns took Hilda's hand and held it firmly within his own. He said
+some sympathetic words, for Hilda's slightest grief was grief to him,
+but in his heart he could not help murmuring:</p>
+
+<p>"That tiresome, morbid child. Poor darling Hilda, I must show her very
+gently and gradually how terribly she is spoiling Judy."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
+<a name="honeymoon" id="honeymoon"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br />
+
+<small>HONEYMOON.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The night is in her hair<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And giveth shade for shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the pale moonlight on her forehead white<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like a spirit's hand is laid;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her lips part with a smile<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Instead of speakings done:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I ween, she thinketh of a voice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Albeit uttering none.<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;Mrs. Barrett Browning.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>A month later Mrs. Quentyns was sitting in one of the largest hotels at
+Rome waiting for her husband to come in. The day was so balmy and genial
+that it was almost impossible for Hilda to believe that the time of year
+was early February. Dressed in dark-green velvet, with a creamy feather
+boa lying by her side, Hilda sat amidst all her unaccustomed
+surroundings, her eyes looking straight down the lofty room and her
+thoughts far away. The bride was thinking of her English home&mdash;she was
+an intensely happy bride&mdash;she loved her husband devotedly&mdash;she looked
+forward to a good and blessed life by his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>side, but still (and to her
+credit be it spoken) she could not forget old times. In the Rectory
+gardens now the crocuses and snowdrops were putting out their first
+dark-green leaves, and showing their tender petals to the faint winter
+sunshine. Judy and Babs, wrapped in furs from top to toe, were taking
+their afternoon walk&mdash;Babs was looking in vain for insect life in the
+hedges, and Judy was opening her big eyes wide to see the first green
+bud that ventured to put out its little tip to be greeted by the winter
+cold. Aunt Marjorie was learning to make use of her legs, and was
+glowing with warmth of body and vexation of spirit. The Rector was
+tranquilly writing a sermon which, notwithstanding its polished diction,
+should yet show the workings of a new spirit which would move his
+congregation on Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda seemed to see the whole picture&mdash;but her mind's eye rested longest
+on the figure of the tall, rather overgrown child, whose eyes always
+wore too hungry an expression for perfect happiness.</p>
+
+<p>"Little darling," murmured Hilda, "how I wish I had her with me
+here&mdash;she'd appreciate things so wonderfully. It is the greatest treat
+in the world to take Judy to see a really good picture&mdash;how her eyes
+shine in her dear face <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>when she looks at it. My sweet little Judy,
+Jasper does not care for me to talk much to you, but I love you with all
+my heart and soul; it is the one drawback to my perfect happiness that I
+must be parted from you."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda rose as she spoke, and going over to a table on which her
+traveling-bag stood, opened it, pressed the spring on a certain lock,
+and taking out a little crumpled, stained letter, read the words written
+on it.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p>"My darling Hilda [wrote the poor little scribe], this is to say
+that I love you better than anyone else in the world. I'll
+always go on loving you best of all. Please take a thousand
+million kisses, and never forget Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"P. S.&mdash;I'll pray for you every day and every night. I hope you
+will be very happy. I won't fret if you don't. This letter is
+packed with love.</p>
+
+<p class="right smcap">"Judy."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>A step was heard along the passage; Hilda folded up the letter, slipped
+it back into its hiding place, and ran down the long room to meet her
+husband.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my darling," he exclaimed; "the English mail has just come in,
+and here's a budget for you."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>"And a budget for you too, Jasper. What a heap of letters!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and one of them is from Rivers. He rather wants me in London:
+there's a good case coming on at the Law Courts; he says I shall be
+counsel for it if I'm in town. What do you say to coming back to London
+on Saturday, Hilda?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know I shall be only too delighted; I am just pining to be home
+again. Do you think we could go down to the Rectory? I should so like to
+spend Sunday there."</p>
+
+<p>"My darling, what are you thinking of? I want to be in London, not in
+Hampshire. Now that I have got you, sweetheart, I must neglect no chance
+of work."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda's face turned slightly pale.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, darling," she said, looking up sweetly at her tall husband;
+"but where are we to go on Saturday night? You spoke of going home."</p>
+
+<p>"And so we are going home, my love&mdash;or rather we are going toward home;
+but as we have not taken a house yet, we must spend a week with the
+Malverns when first we get to England. I will send a line to my aunt,
+and tell her to expect us on Saturday."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda said nothing more. She smothered <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>the ghost of a sigh, and sitting
+down by the wood fire, which, notwithstanding the genial weather, was
+acceptable enough in their lofty room, began to open her letters. The
+Rectory budget was of course first attended to. It contained several
+inclosures&mdash;one from her father, which was short and principally
+occupied over a review of the last new theological book he had been
+reading, one from Aunt Marjorie, and one from Miss Mills.</p>
+
+<p>"None from Judy," said Hilda, in a voice of surprise; "she has only
+written to me once since we were married."</p>
+
+<p>She spoke aloud, and looked up at her husband for sympathy. He was
+reading a letter of his own, and its contents seemed to amuse him, for
+he broke into a hearty laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Jasper?" asked Hilda. "What is amusing you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Something Rivers has said, my love. I'll tell you presently. Capital
+fellow he is; if I get this brief I shall be in tremendous luck."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda opened Aunt Marjorie's letter and began to read. The old lady was
+a somewhat rambling correspondent. Her letters were always closely
+written and voluminous. Hilda had to strain her young eyes to decipher
+all the sentences.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
+"I must say I dislike poverty [wrote Aunt Marjorie]; you are
+well out of it, Hilda. It is my private conviction that your
+father has absolutely forgotten that his income has jumped down
+in a single day from three thousand three hundred and fifty
+pounds a year to the three hundred and fifty without the odd
+thousands; he goes on just as he has always done, and is
+perfectly happy. Dean Sharp sent him his last book a week ago,
+and he has done nothing but read it and talk of it ever
+since&mdash;his conversation in consequence is most tiresome. I miss
+you awfully, my love. I never could stand theology, even when I
+was surrounded by comforts, and now when I have to stint the
+fires and suffer from cold feet, you may imagine how unpleasant
+it is to me. My dear Hilda, I am afraid I shall not be able to
+keep Miss Mills, she seems to get sillier every day; it is my
+private conviction that she has a love affair on, but she's as
+mum as possible about it. Poor Sutton cried in a most
+heartrending way when she left; she said when leaving, 'I'll
+never get another mistress like you, ma'am, for you never
+interfere, even to the clearing of the jellies.' I am glad she
+appreciates me, I didn't think she did while she was living with
+us. The new cook can't attempt anything <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>in the way of soup, so
+I have given it up for dinner; but your father never appears to
+miss it. The garden is looking horrible, so many weeds about.
+The Anstruthers have all gone up to London&mdash;taken a house for
+the season at an enormous price. How those people do squander
+money; may they never know what it is for it to take to itself
+wings!</p>
+
+<p>"By the way, Judy has not been well; she caught cold or
+something the day of your wedding, and was laid up with a nasty
+little feverish attack and cough. We had to send for Dr. Harvey,
+who said she had a chill, and was a good deal run down. She's up
+again now, but looks like a ghost with her big eyes. She
+certainly is a most peculiar child&mdash;I don't pretend to
+understand her. She crept into the room a minute ago, and I told
+her I was writing to you, and asked her if she had any message.
+She got pink all over just as if she were going to cry, and then
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Tell Hilda that I am not fretting a bit, that I am as happy as
+possible. Give her my dear love and heaps of kisses' (my dear
+Hilda, you must take them for granted, for I am not going to put
+crosses all over the letter).</p>
+
+<p>"Then she ran out of the room as if she had <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>nothing further to
+say&mdash;really a most queer child. Babs is a little treasure and
+the comfort of my life.</p>
+
+<p class="right">"Your affectionate old Aunt,</p>
+<p class="smcap right2">"Marjorie."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Jasper!" said Hilda, in a choked sort of voice. "Jasper!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, my darling? Why, how queer you look, your face is quite
+white!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is about Judy; she's not well!" said Hilda. "I ought to go to her, I
+ought not to delay. Couldn't we catch the night mail?"</p>
+
+<p>"Good gracious!" said Quentyns, alarmed by Hilda's manner. "What is
+wrong with the child? If it is anything infectious&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, it is nothing of that sort; but in any case, whatever it is, I
+ought to go to her&mdash;I ought not to delay. May I telegraph to say we are
+starting at once?"</p>
+
+<p>"My darling, how excitable you are! What can be wrong with the child?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jasper, you don't understand&mdash;Aunt Marjorie says&mdash;&mdash;Here, read
+this bit."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't read that crabbed, crossed writing, Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll read it aloud to you; see where it begins&mdash;'Judy has not
+been well&mdash;&mdash;'"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>Hilda read the whole passage, a lump in her throat almost choking her
+voice. When she had finished, Quentyns put his arms round her and drew
+her to his heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you poor little, foolish, nervous creature," he said, "there's
+nothing wrong with Judy now; she was ill, but she's much better. My
+darling Hilda&mdash;my love, you must really not disturb yourself about a
+trifling mishap of this sort."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't a trifle, Jasper. Oh, I know Judy&mdash;I know how she looks and
+what she feels. Oh, do, do let me go back to her, darling."</p>
+
+<p>"You read that letter in such a perturbed sort of voice that I can
+scarcely follow its meanings," said Quentyns. "Here, give it to me, and
+let me see for myself what it is all about. Why will old ladies write
+such villainous hands? Where does the passage begin, Hilda? Sit down,
+darling, quiet yourself. Now let me see, here it is&mdash;'Judy has not been
+well&mdash;&mdash;'"</p>
+
+<p>Hilda's hands had shaken with nervousness while she read her aunt's
+letter aloud, but Quentyns held the sheet of thin paper steadily. As the
+sentences fell from his lips, his full tones seemed to put new meaning
+into them&mdash;the ghostly terrors died out of Hilda's heart. When her
+husband laid down the sheet of paper, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>turned to her with a
+triumphant smile, she could not help smiling back at him in return.</p>
+
+<p>"There," he said, "did not I tell you there was nothing wrong with Judy
+now? What a little goose you are!"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I am; and if you really, really think&mdash;if you are quite sure
+that she's all right&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, I am absolutely certain; doesn't Aunt Marjorie say so? The
+fact is, Hilda, you make too great a fuss about that little sister of
+yours&mdash;I feel almost jealous of her."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
+<a name="starved" id="starved"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br />
+
+<small>STARVED.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And be all to me? Shall I never miss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Home-talk and blessing and the common kiss?<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;E. Barrett Browning.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>In the first pleasant spring-time of that same year, Mrs. Anstruther, a
+very gay and fashionable-looking woman of between forty and fifty years
+of age, turned on a certain morning to her daughter and made a remark:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't forget that we must pay some calls this afternoon, Mildred."</p>
+
+<p>Mildred was standing by the window of their beautiful drawing room. The
+window-boxes had just been filled with lovely spring flowers; she was
+bending over them and with deft fingers arranging the blossoms and
+making certain small alterations, which had the effect of grouping the
+different masses of color more artistically than the gardener had done.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother," she said, half turning her handsome head and glancing
+back at her parent. "We are to make calls. I am quite agreeable."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you would take an interest, Mildred; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>it is so unpleasant going
+about with people who are only just 'quite agreeable.' Now, when I was a
+young girl&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, please, mother, don't! The times have completely changed since you
+were young; enthusiasm has gone out of fashion. I am nothing if I am not
+fashionable! Of course, if calls have to be made, I shall make them.
+I'll put on my most becoming bonnet, and my prettiest costume, and I'll
+sit in the carriage by your side, and enter the houses of those friends
+who happen to be at home, and I'll smile and look agreeable, and people
+will say, 'What an amiable woman Miss Anstruther is!' I'll do the
+correct thing of <em>course</em>, only I suppose it is not necessary for my
+heart to go pitter-patter over it. By the way, have you made out a list
+of the unfortunates who are to be victimized by our presence this
+afternoon?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Anstruther sighed, and gazed in some discontent at her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>"It is so disagreeable not to understand people," she said. "I don't
+profess to understand you, Mildred. If you will give me my visiting-book
+I can soon tell you the places where we ought to go. And oh, by the way,
+should we not call on Hilda Quentyns? she has taken a house somewhere in
+West Kensington."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>"You don't mean to tell me that the Quentyns are in town?" said
+Mildred, turning sharply round and gazing at her mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course; they have been in London for some time. I met Lady Malvern
+yesterday, and she gave me Hilda's address. She seems to have gone to
+live in a very poky place. See, I have entered the name in my
+address-book&mdash;10, Philippa Road, West Kensington."</p>
+
+<p>"Then of course we'll go to her&mdash;that will be <em>really</em> nice," said
+Mildred with enthusiasm. "We might go to Hilda first and spend some
+little time with her."</p>
+
+<p>"But Mrs. Milward's 'at home' begins quite early. I should not like to
+miss that."</p>
+
+<p>"Who cares for Mrs. Milward! Look here, mother, suppose <em>you</em> pay the
+calls and let me go and see Hilda. I have a good deal I want to talk
+over with her; for one thing, I want to say something about Judy."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor, queer little Judy," said Mrs. Anstruther with a laugh. "What can
+you possibly have to say about her?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think Judy is at all well," said Mildred. "There is such a
+thing as dying of heart-hunger. If ever a child suffered from that
+old-fashioned complaint, it is that poor mite at Little Staunton
+Rectory."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>"My dear Mildred, you get more absurd every day. Judy lives in a most
+comfortable home, for notwithstanding their poverty, old Aunt Marjorie
+manages to keep everything going in really respectable style. The child
+has a loving father, a devoted aunt, a dear little sister, and an
+excellent governess, and you talk of her dying of heart-hunger! It is
+absurd."</p>
+
+<p>"Nevertheless," said Mildred,&mdash;she stopped abruptly, her bright eyes
+looked across the room and out through the open window,&mdash;"nevertheless,"
+she said, giving her foot an impatient tap, "I should like to see Hilda.
+I should like to have a long talk with her. I have heard nothing about
+her since her wedding, so by your leave, mother, I'll drive over to West
+Kensington immediately after lunch and send the victoria back for you."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Anstruther, who was always more or less like wax in the hands of
+her strong-minded daughter, was obliged somewhat unwillingly to submit
+to this arrangement; and Mildred, charmingly dressed and looking young
+and lovely, was bowled rapidly away in the direction of Hilda Quentyns'
+humble home soon after two o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>"It will be pleasant to take the poor old dear by surprise," said
+Mildred to herself. "There <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>was a time when I felt jealous of her good
+fortune in having secured Jasper Quentyns, but, thank goodness, I have
+quite got over the assaults of the green-eyed monster now. Ah, here we
+are. What a queer little street!&mdash;what frightfully new and yet
+picturesque houses! They look like dove-cotes. I wonder if this pair of
+turtle-doves coo in their nest all day long."</p>
+
+<p>The footman jumped down and rang the doorbell. In a moment a
+neatly-dressed but very young looking servant stood in the open doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mrs. Quentyns was at home," she said, and Mildred entered Hilda's
+pretty house.</p>
+
+<p>She went into the drawing room, and stood somewhat impatiently waiting
+for her hostess to appear. The little room was furnished with an eye to
+artistic effect, the walls were decorated with good taste. The furniture
+was new, as well as pretty. One beautiful photogravure from Burne Jones'
+"Wheel of Fortune" was hung over the mantelpiece. Hilda and Quentyns,
+faithfully represented by an Italian photographer, stood side by side in
+a little frame on one of the brackets. Mildred felt herself drawing one
+or two heavy sighs.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what there is about this little room, but I like it," she
+murmured; "nay, more, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>I love it. I can fancy good people inhabiting it.
+I am quite certain that Love has not yet flown out of the window. I am
+quite sure, too, of another thing, that even if Poverty does come in at
+this door, Love will remain. Oh, silly Hilda, what have you to do with
+the 'Wheel of Fortune'? your position is assured; you dwell safely
+enthroned in the heart of a good man. Oh, happy Hilda!"</p>
+
+<p>The door was opened, and Hilda Quentyns smiling, with roses on her
+cheeks and words of delighted welcome on her lips, rushed into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"How sweet of you to call, Mildred," she exclaimed. "I was just
+wondering if you would take any notice of me."</p>
+
+<p>"You dear creature," said Mildred, kissing Hilda and patting her on the
+shoulder. "Two hours ago I heard for the first time that you were in
+London. I ate my lunch and ordered the victoria, and put on my prettiest
+bonnet and drove over to see you as fast as ever the horses would bring
+me. I could not well pay my respects to Mrs. Quentyns in a shorter
+time."</p>
+
+<p>"I am very glad to see you," said Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"How childish you look," replied Mildred, gazing at her in a rather
+dissatisfied way; "you have no responsibilities at all now, your Jasper
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>takes the weight of everything, and you live in perpetual sunshine. Is
+the state of bliss as blissful as we have always been led to imagine,
+Hilda, or are the fairy tales untrue, and does the prince only exist in
+one's imagination?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, he is real, quite real," said Hilda. "I am as happy as it is
+possible for a human being to be. Jasper&mdash;but I won't talk of him&mdash;you
+know what I really think of him. Now let me show you my house. Isn't it
+a sweet little home? Wasn't it good of Jasper to come here? He wanted a
+flat, but when he saw that my heart was set on a little house, he took
+this. Don't you like our taste in furniture, Milly? Oh, Milly dear, I
+<em>am</em> glad to see you. It is nice to look at one of the dear home-faces
+again."</p>
+
+<p>"Come and show me your house," said Mildred; "I am going to stay a long
+time&mdash;all the afternoon, if possible."</p>
+
+<p>"I am more than glad; you must remain to dinner. I will telegraph to
+Jasper to come home early."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mind if I do," said Mildred. "I have no very special
+engagements for this evening, and even if I had I should be disposed to
+break them. It is not often one gets the chance of spending an hour in a
+nest with two turtle-doves."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>"Come, come," said Hilda, "that sounds as if you were laughing at us.
+Now you shall see the house, and then we'll have tea together, and you
+must tell me all about the old place."</p>
+
+<p>The turtle-doves' nest was a very minute abode. There was only one
+story, and the bed-rooms in consequence were small and few.</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't we delightfully economical?" said Hilda, throwing open the door
+of her own room. "Is not this wee chamber the perfection of snugness?
+and this is Jasper's dressing room, and here is such a dear little
+bath-room; and this is the spare-room (we have not furnished it yet, but
+Jasper says we can't afford to have many visitors, so I'm not making any
+special haste). And this is our servants'-room; I did not think when we
+lived at Little Staunton that two servants could fit into such a tiny
+closet, but these London girls seem quite to like it. Now, Mildred, come
+downstairs. You have looked over this thimbleful of a house, and I hope
+it has pleased you. Come downstairs and let us talk. I am starving for
+news."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my dear, begin catechising to your heart's content," said
+Mildred. She threw herself back into the easiest of the easy-chairs as
+she spoke, and toasted her feet before Hilda's cheerful <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>fire. "What do
+you want to know first, Mrs. Quentyns?"</p>
+
+<p>"How long is it since you left home&mdash;when did you see them all?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was at home a fortnight ago, and I spent the greater part of one
+afternoon at the Rectory."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, did you? Is it awfully changed?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; the house is <em>in statu quo</em>. It looks just as handsome and stately
+and unconcerned as of old. Aunt Marjorie says it is full of dust, but I
+did not notice any. Aunt Marjorie has got quite a new wrinkle between
+her brows, and she complains a great deal of the young cook, but my
+private opinion is that that unfortunate cook is your aunt's salvation,
+for she gives her something else to think of besides the one perpetual
+grievance."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, yes," said Hilda, a little impatiently, "poor dear Aunt
+Maggie; and what about the others? How is my father?"</p>
+
+<p>"He looks thin, and his hair is decidedly silvered; but his eyes just
+beamed at me with kindness. He never spoke once about the change in his
+circumstances, and on Sunday he preached a sermon which set me crying."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Mildred, I think father's sermons were <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>always beautiful. How I
+should like to hear him once again!"</p>
+
+<p>"So you will, of course, very soon; they're all expecting you down. Why
+don't you go?"</p>
+
+<p>The faintest shadow of a cloud flitted across Hilda's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Jasper is so busy," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, go without him. I am quite convinced you would do them a sight of
+good."</p>
+
+<p>"Jasper does not like me to leave him," said Hilda; "we both intend to
+run down to the Rectory for a flying visit soon, but he is so busy just
+at present that he cannot fix a day. Go on, Milly, tell me about the
+others. What of Babs?"</p>
+
+<p>"I saw her squatting down on the middle of the floor with a blind kitten
+just three days old in her lap. The kitten squalled frightfully, and
+Babs kept on calling it 'poor, <em>pretty</em> darling.' I thought badly of the
+kitten's future prospects, but well of its nurse's; she looked
+particularly flourishing."</p>
+
+<p>"And Judy?" said Hilda, "she wasn't well a little time ago, but Aunt
+Marjorie has said nothing about her health lately. Has she quite, quite
+recovered? Did she look ill? Did you see much of her?"</p>
+
+<p>"She was sitting in the ingle-nook, reading a book."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>"Reading a book!" said Hilda; "but Judy does not like reading. Was the
+day wet when you called at the Rectory?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; the sun was shining all the time."</p>
+
+<p>"Why wasn't she out scampering and running all the time, and hunting for
+grubs?"</p>
+
+<p>"She had a cough, not much, just a little hack, and Aunt Marjorie
+thought she had better stay indoors."</p>
+
+<p>"Then she is <em>not</em> quite well!"</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Marjorie says she is, and that the hack is nothing at all. By the
+way, Hilda, if your husband won't spare you to go down to the Rectory,
+why don't you have that child here on a visit? Nothing in the world
+would do her so much good as a sight of your face."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know, I know; my little Judy, my treasure! But the spare-room is
+not ready, and Jasper is so prudent, he won't go in debt for even a
+shilling's-worth. He has spent all his available money on the house
+furnishing, and says the spare-room must wait for a month or so. As soon
+as ever it is furnished, Judy is to be the first guest."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you hire a little bedstead of some sort?" said Mildred, "and put
+it up in that room, and send for the child. What does Judy care about
+furnished rooms!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>"You think she looks really ill, do you, Mildred?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will be candid with you, Hilda. I did not like her look&mdash;she suffers.
+It is sad to read suffering in a child's eyes. When I got a peep into
+Judy's eyes I could see that her soul was drooping for want of
+nourishment. She is without that particular thing which is essential to
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"And what is that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your love. Do send for her, Hilda. Never mind whether the spare-room is
+furnished or not."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda sat and fidgeted with her gold chain. Her face, which had been
+full of smiles and dimples, was now pale with emotion, her eyes were
+full of trouble.</p>
+
+<p>"Why are you so irresolute?" asked Mildred impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I&mdash;I don't know. I am not quite my own mistress. I&mdash;I must think."</p>
+
+<p>The servant entered the room with a letter on a little salver. Hilda
+took it up.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, this is from Judy," she exclaimed. "Perhaps she's much better
+already. Do you mind my reading it, Mildred?"</p>
+
+<p>"Read it, certainly. I shall like to know how the dear queer mite is
+getting on."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>Hilda opened her letter, and, taking out a tiny pink sheet, read a few
+words written on it.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="noi">"<span class="smcap">My Dear Hilda:</span></p>
+
+<p>"I am writing you a little letter. I hope you are quite well. I
+don't fret, and I hope you don't. I think of you and never
+forget you. I give you a kiss for now and for to-night, and for
+every other night, and a million, thousand kisses for always.</p>
+
+<p class="right">"Your loving</p>
+<p class="right2 smcap">"Judy."</p>
+
+<p>"Here are my kisses."</p></div>
+
+<p>A whole lot of crosses and round o's followed.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>"Here is my tex for us both. 'The Lord wach between me and
+thee.'</p>
+
+<p class="smcap right2">"Judy."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Hilda's eyes filled with sudden tears.</p>
+
+<p>"There is something else in the envelope," she exclaimed. "I think a
+scrawl from Aunt Marjorie. I had a volume from her yesterday. I wonder
+what she wants to write about again."</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="noi">"<span class="smcap">My Darling Hilda:</span></p>
+
+<p>"Now don't be frightened, my dear, but I have something to tell
+you which I think you ought to know. Our dear little Judy
+fainted in a rather alarming way in church yesterday. Of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>course
+we sent for the doctor, and he says she is very weak, and must
+stay in bed for a day or two. He says we need not be alarmed,
+but that her strength is a good deal run down, and that she must
+have been fretting about something. It just shows how little
+doctors know, for I <em>never</em> saw the child sweeter, or more
+gentle, or more easily amused. You know what a troublesome
+little creature she used to be, always flashing about and
+upsetting things, and bringing all kinds of obnoxious insects
+into the house; but she has been just like a lamb since your
+wedding, sitting contentedly by my side, looking over her fairy
+story-books, and assuring me she wasn't fretting in the least
+about you, and that she was perfectly happy. Babs did say that
+she heard her crying now and then at night, but I fancy the
+child must have been mistaken, for Judy certainly would not
+conceal any trouble from me. I will write to you again about her
+to-morrow. She directed this envelope to you herself yesterday
+morning before church, so I am slipping my letter into it. Don't
+be frightened, dear, we are taking all possible care of her.</p>
+
+<p class="right">"Your affectionate</p>
+<p class="smcap right2">"Aunt Marjorie."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>"There," said Hilda, looking up with a queer, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>terrified expression in
+her eyes, "I knew how it would be. I married Jasper to please myself,
+and I have killed Judy. Judy's heart is broken. Oh, what shall I do,
+Milly, what shall I do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let me read Aunt Marjorie's letter," said Mildred.</p>
+
+<p>Her quick, practical eyes glanced rapidly over the old lady's illegible
+writing.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you have killed her, Hilda," said Miss Anstruther then,
+"but she is simply fading away for want of the love which was her life.
+Go back to her; go back at once, and she will revive. Come, there is not
+a moment to be lost. I'll run out and send a telegram to Little
+Staunton. I'll tell them to expect you this evening. Where's an A B C?
+Have you got one?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think there is one on the wagon in the dining room. I'll fetch it."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda ran out of the room; she brought back the time-table in a moment.
+Her face was white; her hands shook so that she could scarcely turn the
+leaves.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me find the place," said Mildred. "There, let me see. Oh, what a
+pity, you have lost the four o'clock train, and there isn't another
+until seven. Never mind, say you will take that one. You'll arrive at
+Bickley at <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>twenty minutes to ten, and soon after ten you'll be at the
+Rectory. I'll run at once and send off the telegram, for the sooner
+Judy's heart is relieved the better."</p>
+
+<p>Mildred rushed to the davenport, filled in a telegraph-form, and brought
+it to Hilda to read.</p>
+
+<p>"There, is that right?" she exclaimed. "Put your name to it if you are
+satisfied."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda dashed the tears, which were still blinding her eyes, away.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes," she exclaimed, "that will do. Take it at once, this moment,
+before&mdash;before I have time to change my mind."</p>
+
+<p>Mildred had written, "Tell Judy to expect me at ten to-night." Hilda
+added her name, and Mildred prepared to leave the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by, Hilda," she said. "I won't come back, for you will need all
+your time to pack, and to leave things in order for your Jasper.
+Good-by, dear. Of course, you could not <em>think</em> of changing your mind,
+it would be wicked, cruel; yes, it would be terribly cruel. Good-by,
+Hilda, good-by."</p>
+
+<p>Mildred seated herself in the victoria and desired her coachman to drive
+to the nearest telegraph-office.</p>
+
+<p>"I have made a discovery," she said, under her breath. "Jasper Quentyns
+was not the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>prince; no, <em>my</em> prince has not yet shown his shining face
+above the horizon. Doubtless he will never come; but better that than to
+think he has arrived and wake to find him common clay. Hilda is
+absolutely <em>afraid</em> of her husband. No, Hilda, I would not be in your
+shoes for a good deal."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
+<a name="waiting" id="waiting"></a>CHAPTER X.<br />
+
+<small>WAITING.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The days are clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Day after day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When April's here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That leads to May,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And June<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Must follow soon.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stay, June, stay!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If only we could stop the moon<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And June!<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>It was an April day, but the weather was still cold at Little Staunton,
+and Aunt Marjorie thought it well to have a nice bright fire burning in
+Judy's bedroom.</p>
+
+<p>Judy was sitting up in bed, her hair was combed back from her face, she
+wore a pink dressing-gown, the black shadows under her eyes were not so
+marked as yesterday, her firm little lips had an expression of extreme
+and touching patience. Judy's movements were somewhat languid, and her
+voice when she spoke had lost its high, glad pitch.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie kept coming in and out of the room. Miss Mills fussed with
+the fire, went to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>the window to look out over the landscape and to make
+the same remark many times.</p>
+
+<p>"How late the spring is this year," said the governess, in her dreary
+monotone.</p>
+
+<p>Babs stood with her back to Judy, sorting a cabinet full of curiosities.
+There was no shadow of any sorrow on Babs' serene face&mdash;her full
+contented voice prattled on interminably.</p>
+
+<p>A drawing-board lay on Judy's bed, a sheet of drawing-paper, two or
+three pencils, and a thick piece of india-rubber lay by her side. For
+over an hour she had been drawing industriously. A pink color came into
+her cheeks as she worked, and Aunt Marjorie said to herself:</p>
+
+<p>"The child is all right&mdash;she just needed a little rest&mdash;she'll soon be
+as well as possible. I'll go downstairs now, and write to Hilda about
+her."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Mills also thought that Judy looked better. Miss Mills was still
+guilty of keeping up a somewhat one-sided correspondence with the person
+whom she so cordially hated&mdash;she had not heard from him for nearly a
+month, and thought that the present would be a good opportunity to write
+another letter to remind him of her existence. So, glancing at Judy as
+she went, she also left the room.</p>
+
+<p>The door was shut carefully, and the two little sisters were alone. When
+this happened, Judy <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>threw down her pencils and gave utterance to a
+faint, quickly-smothered sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you do it so softly?" said Babs, not troubling herself to turn
+her face, but still keeping her stout back to her sister.</p>
+
+<p>"Do what so softly?" asked Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"Those groans to yourself. Aunt Marjorie won't believe that you ever
+groan, and I <em>know</em> you do. She said you was as happy as the day is
+long, and I said you <em>wasn't</em>. You know you do sob at night, or you have
+she-cups or something."</p>
+
+<p>"Look here," said Judy, "it's very, very, <em>very</em> unkind of you, Babs, to
+tell Aunt Marjorie what I do at night. I didn't think you'd be so
+awfully mean. I am ill now, and Aunt Maggie would do anything for me,
+and I'll ask her to put you to sleep in Miss Mills' room, if ever you
+tell what I do at night again."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll never tell if you don't wish me to," said Babs, in her easy tones.
+"You may sob so that you may be heard down in the drawing room and I
+won't tell. Look here, Judy, I have found your old knife."</p>
+
+<p>"What old knife?"</p>
+
+<p>"The one you saved that animal with last autumn, don't you remember?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, yes&mdash;the <em>dear</em> little earwig. Do <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>let me see the knife, Babs;
+I thought I had lost it."</p>
+
+<p>"No, it was in the back of your cabinet, just under all the peacock's
+feathers. Wasn't the earwig glad when you saved her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Judy, smiling, "didn't she run home fast to her family? She
+was sticking in the wood and couldn't get out, poor darling, but my dear
+little knife cut the wood away and then she ran home. Oh, didn't she go
+fast!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, didn't she?" said Babs, laughing. "I think earwigs are such
+<em>sweet</em> little animals, don't you, Judy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Insects, you mean," said Judy. "Oh, yes, I love them special because
+most people hate the poor dears."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you drawing, Judy? What a queer, queer picture!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to call it 'Where the nasty fairies live,'" said Judy, "but I
+haven't finished it. Babs, how long is it since Hilda went away?"</p>
+
+<p>"Weeks, and weeks, and weeks," replied Babs. "I has almost forgotten how
+long."</p>
+
+<p>"Years and years, you mean," said Judy.</p>
+
+<p>The little pink flush of excitement faded out of her cheeks, her eyes
+looked hollow, the shadow under them grew darker than ever.</p>
+
+<p>There came a rush along the passage, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>Aunt Marjorie, puffing with
+the haste she had used, but trying to walk slowly and to speak calmly,
+entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Judy, my darling," she said, "I have very good news for you."</p>
+
+<p>"For me," said Judy, flushing and paling almost in the same moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my dear little pet, very nice news. Your darling Hilda is coming."</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Maggie!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, here's a telegram from her. She says in it, '<em>Tell Judy to expect
+me at ten to-night</em>.' Why, my darling, how white you are! Babs, run and
+fetch me those smelling-salts. Now, Judy, just one whiff. Ah, now you're
+better."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, auntie, much, much, <em>much</em> better. I am only awfully happy."</p>
+
+<p>Judy smiled, and the tears rushed to her eyes; her little thin hand
+trembled, she tried to push her drawing materials away.</p>
+
+<p>"Please may I have the telegram?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you may, my darling. Oh, and here comes kind Miss Mills with
+your chicken-broth. Just the thing to set you up. Drink it off, dear.
+Miss Mills, our sweet Hilda is coming to-night. I have just had a
+telegram, she'll be here about ten."</p>
+
+<p>"Who's to meet her?" asked Miss Mills. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>"You forget that there are no
+horses in the stables now, and no carriage in the coach-house."</p>
+
+<p>"I did forget," said Aunt Marjorie. "I must send a message to Stephens
+to take a fly to the station."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go and tell him as soon as ever tea is over," answered Miss Mills.
+"Ah, Judy! You'll soon be well now, Judy, won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am well already," said Judy. "What delicious chicken-broth! Auntie
+dear, stoop down, I want to whisper something to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my dearie, what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I needn't be asleep when Hilda comes, need I? You will let me sit up in
+bed, won't you? I'll promise to be so quiet, I won't make a sound to
+disturb Babs, but I should love to be awake and waiting for darling
+Hilda. Please, please, auntie, say I may."</p>
+
+<p>"My darling&mdash;until ten o'clock! so awfully late. Judy dear, you're
+getting quite feverish&mdash;you must calm yourself, my pet. Well, then,
+well, <em>anything</em> to soothe you. We'll see how you keep, dearie. If you
+don't get at all excited, I&mdash;I'll see what I shall do. Now I must leave
+you, darling, to go and get Hilda's room ready. I wonder if Jasper is
+coming with her, she doesn't say anything about him."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>Aunt Marjorie trotted out of the room, Miss Mills started on her walk
+to the village, and Judy began to speak eagerly to Babs.</p>
+
+<p>"I am quite well," she said; "you'll never hear me sob again at night. I
+am quite the happiest girl in the world. Oh, think of kissing Hilda
+again; and I didn't fret, no, I didn't&mdash;not really. Babs, don't you
+think you might make the room look pretty? You might get out all the
+animals and put them on the chimney-piece."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be very glad to do that," replied Babs. "I often wanted to look at
+the darlings, but it was no fun when you didn't wish to play with them."
+She opened a little box as she spoke, and taking out china dogs, cats,
+cocks and hens, ducks, giraffes, elephants, monkeys, and many other
+varieties of the animal world, bestowed them with what taste she could
+manage on the mantelpiece. "Don't they look sweet!" she exclaimed. "I
+suppose you're not strong enough to have a game, Judy? If you could bray
+like the donkey, I'd be the roaring bull."</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow, perhaps, I can," said Judy, in a weak voice; "but the room
+is not half ready yet. I want you to pin some of my drawings and some of
+my texes on the wall. You'll find them in my own box if you open it."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>"Yes, yes," said Babs in delight. "I do like making the room pretty for
+Hilda, and you ordering me. You may purtend if you like that I am your
+little servant."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; you're putting that picture upside down, Babs."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how funny! Is that right?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, it's awfully crooked."</p>
+
+<p>For the next half-hour Babs labored hard, and Judy superintended, giving
+sharp criticisms and ordering the arrangements of the chamber with much
+peremptoriness.</p>
+
+<p>"Now we must have flowers," she exclaimed. "You must go out to the
+garden, and pick all the violets you can get."</p>
+
+<p>"But it's very late to go out," said Babs, "and Miss Mills will be
+angry."</p>
+
+<p>"As if that mattered! Who cares who is angry when Hilda is coming? The
+worst Miss Mills can do is to punish you, and you won't mind that when
+you think about Hilda. I know where there are violets, white and blue,
+on that south bank after you pass the shrubbery; you know the bank where
+the bees burrow, and where we catch ladybirds in the summer; run, Babs,
+do run at once and pick all you can find."</p>
+
+<p>Judy's room was decorated to perfection. Judy herself lay in her white
+bed, with pink roses <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>on her cheeks, and eyes like two faintly shining
+stars, and smiles coming and going on her lips, and eager words dropping
+now and then from her impatient little tongue.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the hour now, Aunt Marjorie? Is it really only half-past nine?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is five-and-twenty to ten, Judy, and Miss Mills has gone in the fly
+to the station, and your Hilda will be back, if the train is punctual,
+by ten o'clock. How wonderfully well you look, my darling. I did right
+after all to let you sit up in bed to wait for your dear sister."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am quite well, only&mdash;I hope Jasper won't come too."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, fie! my pet. You know you ought not to say that treasonable sort of
+thing&mdash;Jasper is Jasper, one of the family, and we must welcome him as
+such&mdash;but between ourselves, just for no one else to hear in all the
+wide world, I do hope also that our dear little Hilda will come here by
+herself."</p>
+
+<p>Judy threw her thin arms round Aunt Marjorie's neck and gave her a
+silent hug.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll never breathe what you said," she whispered back in her emphatic
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>Babs slept peacefully in her cot at the other end of the room. The white
+and blue violets lay in a tiny bowl on the little table by Judy's <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>bed.
+The rumble of wheels was heard in the avenue. Aunt Marjorie started to
+her feet, and the color flew from Judy's face.</p>
+
+<p>"It cannot be Hilda yet," exclaimed the aunt. "No, of course, it is the
+doctor. He will say that you are better to-night, Judy."</p>
+
+<p>The medical man entered the room, felt the pulse of his little patient,
+looked into her eyes, and gave utterance to a few cheerful words.</p>
+
+<p>"The child is much better, isn't she?" asked Aunt Marjorie, following
+him out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Hum! I am not so sure; her pulse is weak and quick, and for some reason
+she is extremely excited. What is she sitting up in bed for? she ought
+to have been in the land of dreams a long time ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you know, Dr. Harvey; didn't we tell you, my niece, Mrs.
+Quentyns, is expected to-night? and Judy is sitting up to see her."</p>
+
+<p>"Suspense is very bad for my little patient. What time is Mrs. Quentyns
+expected to arrive?"</p>
+
+<p>"About ten. Judy is especially attached to her sister, and if I had
+insisted on her trying to go to sleep, she would have tossed about and
+worked herself into a fever."</p>
+
+<p>"She is very nearly in one now, and I don't particularly like the look
+of excitement in her <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>eyes. I hope Mrs. Quentyns will be punctual. As
+soon as ever she comes, the child must settle to sleep. Give her a dose
+of that bromide mixture immediately after. I'll come and see her the
+first thing in the morning."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
+<a name="wife" id="wife"></a>CHAPTER XI.<br />
+
+<small>HUSBAND AND WIFE.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">But she is far away<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now; nor the hours of night, grown hoar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bring, yet to me, long gazing, from the door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wind-stirred robe of roseate gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rose-cream of the hour that leads the day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When we shall meet once more.<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;D. G. Rossetti.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Hilda Quentyns, Judy's idol, was not the strongest of characters. She
+was very sweet and amiable, intensely true and affectionate to those to
+whom she gave her heart, but she was somewhat timorous and somewhat
+easily led.</p>
+
+<p>Long ago, when Babs was a baby, Hilda's mother had died. Since then Judy
+had been her special care.</p>
+
+<p>Now with trembling hands she packed her portmanteau, gave the young cook
+and parlor-maid directions what to do in her absence, and then sitting
+down before her davenport, prepared to write an explanatory letter to
+her husband.</p>
+
+<p>She thought it quite probable that Jasper <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>would be angry with her for
+rushing off like this, but for once she intended to brave his
+displeasure.</p>
+
+<p>In her heart of hearts she knew exactly the state Judy was in. The
+ardent soul was wearing out the delicate little frame. That suffering
+which Judy would not speak of, which she was too brave to show sign or
+whisper of, was making her body ill. If Hilda went to her darling, the
+suffering would cease. Love would shine all round Judy's starved heart,
+and she would soon be well and strong again.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it is my manifest duty to go to her," whispered the wife to
+herself. "I will go to Little Staunton and nurse her for a few days, and
+when she is better she must come to London and live with me. Jasper
+won't like it&mdash;I know he won't like it, but he has really nothing to
+complain of, for I told him from the very first what Judy was to me.
+Yes, I must go, but I wish&mdash;I do wish that the train for Little Staunton
+left Waterloo at six instead of seven. I should be well on my journey
+before Jasper came back. Oh, Jasper, my darling, why do I say words of
+this sort, as if I were&mdash;as if I could be&mdash;afraid of you!"</p>
+
+<p>Hilda dipped her pen into the ink and wrote the first words of her
+letter.</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="noi">"<span class="smcap">My Dearest Husband</span>:</p>
+
+<p>"When you read this you will be surprised&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>A rather crooked dash of her pen finished this sentence&mdash;she was
+startled by a quick double knock at the front door. A moment later
+Susan, the neat maidservant, brought in a telegram on a salver.</p>
+
+<p>"The boy is waiting to know if there is any answer," she said.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda tore open the yellow envelope; her eyes rested on the following
+words:</p>
+
+<p>"Rivers will dine with us. Have everything nice, and expect me
+home at 6.30.</p>
+
+<p class="right smcap">"Jasper."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mrs. Quentyns' first sensation was one of relief.</p>
+
+<p>"It is all right," she exclaimed, looking up at the servant, who was
+startled at her mistress's pale cheeks. "I thought my little sister,
+Miss Judy, was worse, but the telegram is from your master, Susan. Tell
+the boy there is no answer, and send cook to me without a moment's
+delay."</p>
+
+<p>Susan left the room, and Hilda slipped the telegram into her pocket. She
+still felt only a sense of relief, and the first faint qualms as to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>what Jasper would think of her sudden departure had not begun to visit
+her. A knock was heard at the drawing-room door.</p>
+
+<p>"Come in, come in," said the young mistress. "Oh, cook," exclaimed
+Hilda, "I have just had a telegram from your master. He is bringing a
+gentleman home to dine. A rather particular gentleman, and we want a
+specially nice dinner. I&mdash;I forget what I ordered this morning."</p>
+
+<p>The fat cook bestowed a pitying glance upon Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"The boiled chicken was to be fricasseed, mum," she said, "and you
+ordered me to open one of the tins of oxtail soup; there were to be
+apple fritters afterward, and a cheese savory&mdash;that is all."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes," said Hilda, putting her hand to her head, "that dinner would
+have done very well for Mr. Quentyns and me, but we must make some
+alterations now. You had better run round to the fishmonger's, cook, and
+go to the butcher's, and order&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Hilda rushed to her davenport, scribbled some hasty directions on a
+piece of paper, and handed them to the servant.</p>
+
+<p>"You must go this moment," she said, "it is six o'clock now; and please
+call at the green-grocer's on your way back, and get a pound of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>bananas
+and some Tangerine oranges. I will see that the wine is all right, and
+speak to Susan about the table while you are out. Run, cook, run, at
+once&mdash;things must look their <em>very</em> best, and be served in the best
+possible manner for dinner to-night."</p>
+
+<p>The cook muttered something unintelligible, and by no means too well
+pleased with her errand, departed.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda called Susan, and going into the dining room helped her to
+decorate the table; then after impressing upon the neat little
+parlor-maid the necessity of doing what she could to help cook in this
+sudden emergency, she ran upstairs to put on her bonnet and jacket, for
+the time had almost arrived when she must start on her journey. She had
+just come downstairs when the click of the latch-key was heard, and
+Jasper, in excellent spirits, entered the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my love," he said, going up to his wife and kissing her; "oh, you
+have been out!&mdash;did you get my telegram? I told Rivers we should not
+dine until half-past seven, in order to give you plenty of time to
+prepare. Perhaps you have been ordering some things for dinner, Hilda;
+that is right, and just what I should have expected of you. I am
+particularly anxious that Rivers should see that I have got the
+sweetest, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>prettiest, and best little wife and housekeeper in the
+world."</p>
+
+<p>For some reason which she could not explain, even to herself, Hilda felt
+her tongue tied. She returned her husband's kiss, and when he entered
+the tiny dining room she followed him.</p>
+
+<p>"Very nice, very nice," he exclaimed, looking with approval at the
+dinner-table, which was charmingly decorated with pink Liberty silk and
+white flowers. "But what is this?" he added suddenly, "there are only
+two places laid. One for you and one for me. We must ring for Susan at
+once&mdash;I think Rivers would rather sit at the side, away from the fire."</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;Jasper, I want to tell you something."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it? how pale you are, darling!"</p>
+
+<p>"I want to tell you something," repeated Hilda; "I&mdash;I am not going to
+dine with you to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, my dear girl&mdash;are you ill? what can be the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not ill, but Judy is&mdash;I am going down to Little Staunton. I have
+telegraphed to them to expect me by the train due at 9.40, and it is
+time for me to go. Is that you, Susan? Please would you order a hansom
+at once?"</p>
+
+<p>Susan instantly left the room, closing the door behind her.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>For nearly half a minute Quentyns was silent, a great wave of color had
+rushed over his face, and it was with difficulty he could keep back some
+annoyed and some sarcastic words. He was a man who prided himself on
+having great self-control, and before he uttered his first sentence he
+felt that he had recovered it.</p>
+
+<p>"You're trembling, dear," he said gently, "and you&mdash;you absolutely look
+as if you were <em>afraid</em> of me. Come into the drawing room, love, and
+tell me what is wrong with Judy. My <em>b&ecirc;te noire</em>, Judy! what has been
+her last transgression?"</p>
+
+<p>"Jasper, don't, don't," said Hilda, in a voice of pain. "Judy is really
+ill this time&mdash;she fainted in church on Sunday; she is in bed now, and
+the doctor says she is very weak."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose so, or she would not have fainted. I used constantly to faint
+when I was a child&mdash;the slightest thing sent me off. I was not kept in
+bed afterward, for children were not cockered up and fussed over when I
+was young. My faint was generally traced to over-eating. If you must go
+down to see Judy, I don't wish to prevent you, Hilda, but why go
+to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jasper, I must&mdash;I must run away this instant too, for I hear the
+cab&mdash;I telegraphed to say I would go."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>Jasper put on a new stubborn look which Hilda had never seen before.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't wish to coerce you," he said, in a cold voice, "you're
+perfectly free to act as you think right in the matter. I can go down
+with you by an early train in the morning, or you can go by yourself
+now, and put me to extreme inconvenience. You're at liberty to choose."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't speak like that, Jasper, you pain me so dreadfully."</p>
+
+<p>"I fail to see how I am paining you, I am giving you a free choice. You
+can be with Judy before noon to-morrow, or you can go immediately."</p>
+
+<p>"I sent a telegram to her to expect me; it is so bad for sick children
+to be kept waiting."</p>
+
+<p>"So it seems. Yes, Susan, tell the cab to wait."</p>
+
+<p>Susan left the room, and heavy tears gathered in Hilda's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Can I send another telegram?" she asked weakly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe you can, the telegraph office will be closed at Little
+Staunton. Never mind, Hilda, you had better go; I am disappointed,
+annoyed, of course, but what of that? What is a husband to a sick
+sister? Go, my dear, or you will miss your train!"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>"No, I won't go," said Hilda; "you have made it impossible for me to
+go. I'll stay and entertain your guest, and Judy will suffer. Yes; don't
+kiss me just now, Jasper; I think you are cruel, but I'll stay."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda went over to the bell and rang it.</p>
+
+<p>Susan answered the summons.</p>
+
+<p>"Give the cabman this shilling," said Mrs. Quentyns, "and tell him that
+he is not required."</p>
+
+<p>"You have done quite right, my love," said Quentyns, "and when you have
+got over your first little feeling of annoyance you will see the matter
+in the same light that I do. I'll telegraph to Little Staunton early in
+the morning to tell them to expect us by the 11.35 train. Of course Judy
+would have been asleep hours before you reached her to-night, so it does
+not really matter in the least. Now come upstairs and put on your very
+prettiest dress, that soft pink <em>chiffon</em>, in which you look as like a
+rosebud as a living woman can. I have capital news for you, Hilda, my
+love; Rivers certainly is a brick; he has got me to act as counsel
+in&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns talked on in his satisfied, joyous tones. He had won the
+victory, and could afford to be very gracious and generous. Hilda felt
+as if a band of iron had closed round her heart. She was too gentle and
+sweet in her <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>nature to be long angry with her husband. Her face was a
+little paler than usual, however, and her eyes had a weary look in them.</p>
+
+<p>Rivers, who was a very keen observer of human nature, noticed the silent
+depression which hung over her, but Hilda's husband failed to observe
+it.</p>
+
+<p>"I can easily manage her," he muttered to himself; "it would have been
+beyond all reason to have had her absent from our first little dinner
+just because a child had fainted. Pshaw!&mdash;I can see that Hilda is going
+to be painfully fanciful; it all comes from having lived so long in the
+wilds of the country. Well, I'll take her down to Little Staunton
+to-morrow, and be specially good to her, but she must get over these
+absurdities about Judy, or life will not be worth living."</p>
+
+<p>The dinner was a success, and Hilda looked lovely. A certain dreamy and
+far-away expression in her eyes added the final touch to her beauty.
+When the men sat together over their wine, Rivers spoke of her in tones
+of rapture.</p>
+
+<p>"You're the luckiest fellow in Christendom, Jasper," he said; and Jasper
+Quentyns, who looked up to Tom Rivers as the first of men, felt almost
+unduly elated.</p>
+
+<p>"The lines had fallen unto him in pleasant <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>places," so he muttered, and
+he forgot all about a sick and troublesome child, who at this very
+instant was counting the moments as they flew by, in her tired and weary
+eagerness to clasp her arms round Hilda's neck. Hilda, too, in the
+drawing room, was shedding silent tears, but what did that matter? for
+Jasper knew nothing about them.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper and Hilda were both musical, and Tom Rivers liked nothing better
+than to listen to their voices as they sang duet after duet together.
+The songs they sung were full of noble sentiment. Their voices mingled
+until they almost sounded like one rich and perfect note, as they sang
+of love which is undying and self-sacrifice which is ennobling. Quentyns
+felt a glow of elation filling his breast as his eyes rested on his
+lovely wife, and the tormentings of Hilda's conscience were soothed, and
+she too partly forgot Judy.</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast was served at an early hour next morning at Philippa Terrace,
+and Quentyns and his wife started for Little Staunton in time to catch
+the early train.</p>
+
+<p>They arrived at the small way-side station not more than twenty minutes
+beyond the appointed time, and were met by Miss Mills, who was driving
+the village pony cart herself.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>The governess addressed Hilda in a calm voice, but her inward
+excitement was very manifest. Jasper had talked cheerfully all the way
+down to Little Staunton, but Hilda had been almost silent. She felt
+oppressed&mdash;she dreaded she knew not what. Now, when she looked into Miss
+Mills' face, she felt her own turn pale.</p>
+
+<p>"No, don't speak," she said, in a hoarse whisper. "I <em>know</em> you have bad
+news, but don't tell me now, not until we get home."</p>
+
+<p>"Get in," said Miss Mills, "I won't be long driving you to the Rectory.
+It is rather important for you to be there, and as the trap only holds
+two, perhaps Mr. Quentyns won't mind walking."</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all," said Jasper, in his pleasant, calm voice. "Can you make
+room for our portmanteau at your feet, Miss Mills? Ah, yes, that will do
+nicely. By the way, how are you all? has Judy quite recovered from her
+faint?"</p>
+
+<p>When Quentyns asked this question Miss Mills bent suddenly forward under
+the pretense of trying to arrange the portmanteau.</p>
+
+<p>"We won't be any time getting to the Rectory," she said, turning to
+Hilda; she touched the pony with her whip as she spoke and they started
+forward.</p>
+
+<p>"It was such a pity you didn't come last <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>night," said the governess, as
+they entered the Rectory gates.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I could not help it," murmured poor Hilda. With one hand she was
+tightly grasping the edge of the little basket-carriage.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop, there is father," she exclaimed suddenly. "Let me go to him. I&mdash;I
+can bear him to tell me if there is anything wrong."</p>
+
+<p>In an instant she reached the Rector's side. Her arms were round his
+neck, her head on his shoulder, and she was sobbing her heart out on his
+breast.</p>
+
+<p>"My dearest Hilda, my darling!" exclaimed her father. "What is the
+meaning of all this? Why are you so dreadfully unhappy, my child?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me, father, I can bear it from you. Is she&mdash;is she dead?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is who dead?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ju&mdash;Judy."</p>
+
+<p>"No; what has put that into your head? But your little sister is very
+ill, Hilda. I am not so much alarmed about her as your Aunt Marjorie is,
+but I confess her state puzzles me. I saw Dr. Harvey to-day, and I don't
+think he is satisfied either. It seems that for some reason the child
+was over-excited last night&mdash;there was difficulty in getting her off to
+sleep, and she cried in a very distressing and painful way. I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>was
+obliged to sit with her myself. I held her hand, poor little darling,
+and had a prayer with her, and&mdash;toward morning she dropped off into a
+sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"And," continued Hilda, "she was better when she awoke, wasn't she? Do
+say she was, father. You showed her Jasper's telegram the very instant
+she awoke, and of course she got much better immediately."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Hilda, the strange thing about Judy has yet to be told; she has
+not awakened&mdash;she is still asleep, and this prolonged and unnatural
+sleep disturbs Dr. Harvey a good deal."</p>
+
+<p>"I had better go to her at once, father. I think the doctor <em>must</em> be
+mistaken in thinking sleep bad. When Judy sees me sitting by her bedside
+she will soon cheer up and get like her old self. I'll run to her now,
+father: I don't feel half so much alarmed since you tell me that she is
+only asleep."</p>
+
+<p>The Rector gave vent to a troubled sigh; Hilda put wings to her feet,
+and with the lightness and grace of a bird sped toward the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda, Hilda!" called her husband. He had taken a short cut across some
+fields, and was now entering the Rectory domain. He thought it would be
+quite the correct thing for his wife to wait for him. Surely she would
+like to enter <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>her family circle with him by her side. "Hilda, stop!" he
+cried, and he hurried his own footsteps.</p>
+
+<p>But if Hilda heard she did not heed. She rushed on, and soon disappeared
+from view inside the deep portico of the old house.</p>
+
+<p>Two or three moments later she was sitting without her hat and jacket,
+and with a pair of noiseless house-slippers on her feet, by Judy's
+bedside.</p>
+
+<p>All the preparations which had been made with such care and pains by
+Babs the night before were still making the nursery look pretty. The
+little china animals sat in many funny groups on the mantelpiece. The
+white and blue violets lay in a large bowl on a table by Judy's side.
+One of the little sleeper's hands was thrown outside the counterpane.
+Hilda touched it, and found that it burned with a queer, uncomfortable
+dry heat.</p>
+
+<p>"But how quietly she is sleeping," said Mrs. Quentyns, looking up with
+tears in her eyes at Aunt Marjorie; "why are you so solemn and
+sad?&mdash;surely this sleep must be good for her."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, Dr. Harvey calls Judy's state more stupor than sleep. He says
+the most extraordinary things about the child ... that she has been
+over-excited and subjected to a severe <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>mental strain, and he fears
+mischief to the brain. But surely he must be wrong, for nothing <em>could</em>
+exceed the quiet of our life at the Rectory since the money has gone and
+you have left us, and no one could have been less excited in her ways
+than Judy has been since your marriage. I can't make out what Dr. Harvey
+means."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I partly understand," said Hilda; her voice had a choking
+sound. "Don't talk so loud, Aunt Marjorie," she said impatiently; "you
+will wake her&mdash;you will disturb her."</p>
+
+<p>"But that is what we wish," interrupted the old lady. "The doctor says
+we must do everything in our power to rouse her. Ah, and here he comes;
+he will speak for himself."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to see you, Mrs. Quentyns," said Dr. Harvey. "Your not coming
+last night when the child expected you was a grave mistake, but better
+late than never."</p>
+
+<p>He stopped speaking then, and bent over the little sleeper.</p>
+
+<p>"Draw up the blind," he said to Aunt Marjorie, "let us have all the
+light we can. Now don't be frightened, Mrs. Quentyns&mdash;I am not going to
+hurt the child, but I must examine her eyes."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda felt as if she could scarcely restrain a stifled scream as the
+doctor lifted first one lid <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>and then the other, and looked into the
+dark depths of the sweet eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"The child has got a shock," he said then. "I feared it when I called
+early this morning. I don't say for a moment that she will not get
+better, but her state is very precarious. I should like you to nurse her
+altogether, Mrs. Quentyns; much depends on her seeing you by her side
+when she wakes."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never leave her again," said Hilda, in a stifled tone.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor's practiced ear caught the suppressed hysteria in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come," he said cheerily, "you have nothing to blame yourself for.
+The little one has evidently felt your absence in a remarkable manner."</p>
+
+<p>"Really, doctor, you are quite mistaken," began Aunt Marjorie. "What I
+principally noticed about Judy was her great quietness and docility
+since Hilda left. She scarcely spoke of her sister, and seemed content
+to sit by my side and read fairy stories. She used to be such a very
+excitable, troublesome sort of child. If you ask me frankly, I think
+Hilda's absence did her good."</p>
+
+<p>The doctor looked from the old lady to the young.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>"I must adhere to my first opinion," he said. "The child has missed her
+sister. Now that you have come, Mrs. Quentyns, we will hope for the
+best."</p>
+
+<p>He went out of the room as he spoke, and Aunt Marjorie followed him.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda dropped on her knees by Judy's cot.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, my God, forgive me," she cried, in a broken anguished prayer. "I
+did wrong to leave my little Judy. Oh, God, only spare her life, and I
+will vow to you that <em>whatever</em> happens she shall never leave me in the
+time to come. Whatever happens," repeated Hilda, in a choking voice of
+great agony. Then she rose and took her place beside the child's bed.</p>
+
+<p>A couple of hours passed by. The door was softly opened, and Quentyns
+stole into the room. He had been very much shocked by the doctor's
+account of the child, and his face and tone expressed real sympathy as
+he came up to Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor little Judy!" he said, bending over her. "What a queer excitable
+little mite it is."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda beat her foot impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my darling," continued Quentyns, not noticing his wife's
+suppressed agitation, "she will soon be all right now you have come.
+Lunch is ready, Hilda, and you must be weak <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>for want of food. Come,
+dearest, let me take you down to the dining room."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, Jasper! I can't leave Judy; and please, please don't talk so
+loud."</p>
+
+<p>"The doctor does not wish her to be kept <em>too</em> quiet, Hilda; and surely,
+my dear, you are not going to starve yourself!"</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Marjorie will send me something to the dressing room; I can't be
+away from Judy even for one minute. There is no saying when she will
+awake, and I must be with her when she does."</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns smothered an impatient exclamation. After a pause he said
+gently:</p>
+
+<p>"As you please, dear; I will bring something up myself to the dressing
+room for you," and he stole on tip-toe out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing could be more patient than his manner, and Hilda reproached
+herself for the feeling of irritation which his presence gave her.</p>
+
+<p>There came a sigh from the bed&mdash;the faintest of sounds; Mrs. Quentyns
+turned her head quickly, and saw to her rapture that Judy's big
+greeny-gray eyes were wide open and fixed earnestly on her face. There
+was no surprise in the pretty eyes, nor any additional color in the pale
+little face.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>"Hilda," said Judy, "I <em>thought</em> it was only a bad dream&mdash;you never
+went away, did you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am never going to leave you again, Judy," replied her sister; "never,
+never, as long as we both live. I vow&mdash;I promise&mdash;nothing shall part us,
+nothing except death."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda flung herself on her knees by the child's bed, and burst into
+hysterical sobs.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
+<a name="ring" id="ring"></a>CHAPTER XII.<br />
+
+<small>HILDA'S ENGAGEMENT RING.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">My heart is heavy for scorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mine eyes with impatient tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But heaven looks blue through the cherry-blooms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And preaches away my fears.<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="smcap right">&mdash;Emily Pfeiffer.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Contrary to the doctor's fears, and in accordance with Hilda's hopes,
+Judy grew better. A weight had been lifted from her heart&mdash;her starved
+affections were nourished and soothed once more. Hilda scarcely ever
+left her room, and Hilda's presence was perpetual sunshine to the child.</p>
+
+<p>No one could possibly have behaved better than Quentyns did during this
+trying time. A certain feeling of compunction had visited him when he
+discovered how real Judy's illness was. He was assailed by a momentary
+pricking of his conscience, but as the little girl quickly grew better,
+and was soon pronounced by the doctor to be quite out of danger, it was
+but natural that an active man of the world like Quentyns should wish to
+return to town, should find the quiet <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>Rectory simply unendurable, and
+also that he should wish to take his young wife with him.</p>
+
+<p>The Quentyns arrived at Staunton Rectory on a certain Wednesday, and on
+the following Sunday evening Quentyns thought the time had arrived for
+him to speak to Hilda about their return to town. He had not seen much
+of her during the days which had intervened, and he was obliged now to
+send Babs with a message to Judy's room to ask his wife to come to him.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda was reading aloud to Judy when Babs entered the room, and said in
+her important, calm way:</p>
+
+<p>"Jasper wants you, Hilda, and you are to go to him this minute."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda could read beautifully, and Judy had lain in a dream of rapture,
+listening to the beloved voice as it told the old story of Christian and
+his pilgrimage. Now the wistful, distressed look crept back into her
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, dear," said Hilda, bending forward and kissing the child.
+"I shall not be long away."</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns was waiting for his wife in the large conservatory which opened
+into the drawing room. It was nearly empty of flowers and plants now,
+but was still a pleasant place to lounge about in.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>"Well, my love," he said in his pleasant tone. "Why, how pale you look,
+Hilda. I am not going to scold you, darling&mdash;oh, no, not for the world;
+but I haven't got too much of your society during these last few days. I
+don't blame you, and I am not jealous; but if you <em>could</em> spare me half
+an hour now, there are one or two things I want to talk over with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I can spare you half an hour, Jasper, or an hour for that
+matter, if you want it," replied Hilda cheerfully. "Judy is much, much
+better to-night, and I am feeling quite happy about her."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda slipped her hand through her husband's arm as she spoke; he gave
+the little hand an affectionate squeeze and drew his wife close to his
+side.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad Judy is better," he said. "What I have to propose will be
+quite convenient then, Hilda. I want to go back to town by the first
+train in the morning. I have heard from Rivers, and&mdash;&mdash;What is it, my
+love? You really do look very pale. You are overdoing yourself, and I
+cannot allow it. Now that Judy is better you must rest. I shall get Dr.
+Pettifer to look you up and give you a tonic when we get back to town."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop, Jasper," said Hilda suddenly. "I am <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>not tired nor worn out in
+any way. I look pale now because my heart beats&mdash;because&mdash;&mdash;Jasper, I
+cannot go to town with you to-morrow. I know you must go; of course, I
+quite understand that; but I am not going&mdash;not until Judy is well enough
+to be moved."</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns did not reply for several seconds, then he said in a gentle
+tone, which did not betray an atom of his true feeling:</p>
+
+<p>"I half expected you to say something of this sort, Hilda; I cannot
+pretend that I am not sorry. The fine weather is coming on; the London
+season will soon be at its height. I do not mean for a moment to imply
+that we can avail ourselves of what is termed a season in town, but for
+a poor and struggling man it is essential that he should leave no stone
+unturned to introduce himself to those persons who can and will help
+him. The influential sort of people who can materially assist me in my
+career are now in London, Hilda. You, my darling, are an excuse for many
+valuable introductions. You see, therefore, that not alone from an
+affectionate point of view you ought now to be with me. But," continued
+Jasper, looking straight ahead of him, and fixing his fine, intelligent
+eyes on the distant landscape, "I waive all that. I understand that you
+do not wish to leave Judy until <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>she is fit to be moved to the seaside.
+If she maintains the progress she is now making, Dr. Harvey will
+probably allow Aunt Marjorie to take her away at the end of the week. I
+shall have you home on Saturday at the latest, Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Hilda. "I hope so, but&mdash;but, Jasper, you still fail to
+understand me. When Judy goes away, she is not going to the seaside&mdash;she
+is coming with me to London&mdash;to Philippa Terrace. It is a promise, and
+I&mdash;I won't&mdash;I can't go back from it. I stand or fall by my promise,
+Jasper&mdash;I wish to say so now once for all."</p>
+
+<p>"You stand or fall by your promise!" repeated Quentyns. "What an
+extraordinary remark. One would suppose, my darling, that I was an ogre
+or the worst sort of tyrant. I always told you that Judy should come to
+stay with us for a few weeks when we had a room to receive her in. If
+matters progress as satisfactorily as I hope, we shall have a snug,
+prettily furnished, little spare room by the end of the present season.
+I promise you, Hilda, that Judy shall be its first tenant."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda laid her hand with a sort of trembling, nervous impatience, on her
+husband's arm.</p>
+
+<p>"I have made a mistake&mdash;I have been a coward," <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>she said. "Even now,
+Jasper, you don't a bit understand me. Long ago, when mother died, she
+left Judy in my charge. I ought never to have married and left her. Judy
+is not an ordinary child, and she suffered. When I went away her heart
+was starved. She could not live with a starved heart. In my absence, my
+little Judy nearly died. She is better now&mdash;she is recovering because I
+am with her. I am never going to leave her again while she lives."</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda, what nonsense you talk," said Quentyns, with temper in his tone.
+"If Judy lives to grow up, she will marry like other girls&mdash;and will
+leave you of her own accord."</p>
+
+<p>"If she does," replied Hilda, "that alters the case, but until she
+leaves me by her own wish or marries, she is in my charge. I will not be
+parted from her, Jasper. I shall not return to Philippa Terrace until I
+can bring her with me."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that really your final decision?" said Quentyns&mdash;he turned round now
+and looked at his wife; his face was very cold, its expression carefully
+veiled. He was intensely anxious not to show even a trace of ill-temper.
+His words were guarded. "Is that your final decision, Hilda?" he said,
+and there was a fine withering sort of sarcasm in his voice. "Do you
+mean seriously to desert the husband you married not <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>three months ago
+for the sake of a child's whim? Is that the way you keep your marriage
+vow?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, Jasper! I want to be true to you both. I made two vows, and I
+want to keep them both. Help me, Jasper; I am not a bit a strong-minded
+girl, I am just very loving. My heart is full of love to you and to
+Judy. Help me to do this&mdash;help me to love you both, to serve you both.
+Go back to town to-morrow and furnish the spare room, and I will bring
+Judy back with me on Friday or Saturday."</p>
+
+<p>"I said I should not run in debt. I have no more money to spend on
+furniture at present. You don't really care for me, Hilda, or you would
+never speak as you do. But, once for all, I will not be drawn into a
+path which simply means ruin for the sake of any woman, and for the
+ridiculous fancies of any child. I will buy no furniture until I can pay
+for it. That ends the matter, my dear. If you are determined to stay at
+the Rectory for the summer, they will all, I am sure, be charmed to have
+you, and I will try and run down as often as I can. I need not say that
+I think you are making a most grave mistake, but a willful woman must
+e'en have her way, I suppose. Ah, and here comes the Rector, he has just
+returned from evening service."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>Quentyns went toward the door of the conservatory, which he flung open.
+Mr. Merton was just entering his drawing room.</p>
+
+<p>"One moment, Jasper&mdash;one moment," said Hilda; she rushed after her
+husband, her face was like death, her eyes were blazing with passion.</p>
+
+<p>"Your cruel words make anything possible," she said. "I made two vows
+before God, and I will keep them both. There, this was costly, I
+presume. You spent money on it&mdash;sell it again, and buy the furniture
+that you will not go in debt for."</p>
+
+<p>She thrust her engagement ring into Quentyns' hand and rushed away.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
+<a name="room" id="room"></a>CHAPTER XIII.<br />
+
+<small>JUDY'S ROOM.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An ear that waits to catch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hand upon the latch.<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;Dora Greenwell.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>"Here is a letter from Jasper, Hilda darling," said Aunt Marjorie,
+coming into Judy's bedroom two or three days after the events mentioned
+in the last chapter. "I know the hand-writing, dear. How strong and
+manly it looks. I do love a manly hand, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>Hilda did not reply. She rose from her seat by Judy's side, and taking
+her husband's letter, walked to the window, and, standing with her back
+to the light, opened it eagerly. Her face was a little pale and worn,
+and her eyes had tired lines under them. No one had noticed any change
+in her, however. Judy was fast recovering&mdash;each day her spirits rose,
+her appetite improved, her strength grew greater. She was to be taken
+into Hilda's old boudoir to-day, and Babs was importantly moving the
+beloved china <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>animals, arranging flowers, and getting the room ready
+for the great event.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie, after her usual fashion, fussed over Judy while Hilda
+read her letter. It was brief, but somehow it gave the young wife
+unexpected hope and pleasure:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="noi">"<span class="smcap">My Dearest Wife</span>:
+</p>
+
+<p>"Pray forgive me for not writing sooner, but I have been
+exceedingly busy since I returned to town, and have dined each
+night with Rivers at his club. I send a hasty line now to say
+that you can bring Judy back to Philippa Terrace whenever she is
+strong enough to be moved, as I have given Shoolbred full
+directions with regard to furnishing the spare room, and have
+just had a letter from him to say the goods will be delivered
+to-day.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray don't tire yourself more than is necessary. And believe
+me,</p>
+
+<p class="right">Your affectionate husband,</p>
+<p class="smcap right">"Jasper Quentyns."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Judy," said Hilda&mdash;she turned eagerly, the old lovely color mantling
+her cheeks, and the brightness of hope filling her eyes. "Isn't Jasper
+good, Judy? I have just heard from him&mdash;he says the furniture is coming
+in for your room to-day. We can go back to town as soon <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>as ever Dr.
+Harvey thinks you strong enough to be moved, my pet."</p>
+
+<p>"Which won't be this week," interrupted Aunt Marjorie. "It would be the
+sheerest madness. Has Jasper proposed such a thing, Hilda? If so, I can
+only say how like a man. In about a fortnight, this dear child may be
+the better for change of air.... I have no doubt too that Dr. Harvey
+will be pleased to have a London opinion about her. There may be a
+weakness of the heart's action. I never am easy about people who faint
+off suddenly. Now, Judy, why do you flush up? you know you oughtn't to
+listen when Auntie talks to Hilda about you. Go on reading your pretty
+story book, my love. Yes, Hilda, I should like the child to see a
+first-class physician. You know your mother's heart was not strong. He
+will doubtless order cod-liver oil, but for my part I prefer cream."</p>
+
+<p>"I know something better than cream for Judy&mdash;don't I, my pet?" said
+Hilda, turning to her little sister with her bright smile.</p>
+
+<p>"And so do I," replied Judy. "Oh, Hilda, to think of living with you in
+your own little house! Oh, Hilda, I'm <em>too</em> happy&mdash;I am so happy that my
+heart aches. It aches with pleasure."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>Judy's thin arms were flung round her sister's neck. Her lips pressed
+Hilda's soft young cheek, her eyes looked into Hilda's. It seemed to
+them both at that moment that soul answered to soul.</p>
+
+<p>"Now what nonsense this is," said Aunt Marjorie in her fussy tones.
+"Judy, I hope Hilda is not going to encourage you in silly sentimental
+talk of that kind. You say your heart aches with pleasure. Really, my
+dear, I have no patience to listen to you. I should like to know what a
+child like you knows about heart-aches&mdash;you, who have been brought up in
+what I may call the very lap of luxury. For, Hilda, I have made it the
+object of my life ever since poverty came to us, to prevent even the
+slightest shadow of its wings touching the children. They have had their
+excellent governess, and their warm schoolroom and snug bedroom. I cut
+down one of my own fur cloaks to give them really nice winter jackets,
+and I took special care that the schoolroom table should be as liberal
+as ever. It is impossible, therefore, for me to understand Judy's silly
+words about her heart aching."</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie left the room, and Judy still softly rubbed her cheek
+against Hilda's.</p>
+
+<p>"But my heart did ache," she said after a pause&mdash;"it aches with joy now,
+and it did ache&mdash;oh, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>it kept crying, it felt starved without you,
+Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand&mdash;yes, I understand," replied Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't mind what Aunt Marjorie says then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not about you, my own little love."</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda, I did really try very, very hard not to fret."</p>
+
+<p>"The effort was too much for you, my Judy; but never mind, the pain and
+the parting are all over now. Isn't it kind of your new brother&mdash;isn't
+it kind of dear, dear Jasper&mdash;to get the nice little room furnished and
+ready for you, darling?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Hilda. Has he gone in debt for the furniture? You told me long ago
+that the room would have been furnished and that I should have come to
+you, but there was no money left, and Jasper would not go in debt. Has
+he really gone in debt now, just to please me?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my love, no&mdash;we have managed. You must not ask inquisitive
+questions. All is right now, and we shall be very happy together."</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Harvey was highly pleased, when he heard that his little patient was
+going to London with her sister. He was a man with plenty of
+observation, and he could read between the lines <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>much better than poor
+obtuse old Aunt Marjorie.</p>
+
+<p>"You are the right physician for your little sister, Mrs. Quentyns," he
+said. "I prophesy that Miss Judy will become perfectly strong and well
+in a short time under your care. Yes, there will be nothing to prevent
+her traveling to town on Saturday next, if you really wish it. The
+weather is extraordinarily mild for the time of year, and a change will
+do Judy more good than anything else."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda wrote a joyful letter to her husband that day.</p>
+
+<p>"You are to expect us both on Saturday," she said. "Oh, Jasper, how
+happy your letter has made me. How good&mdash;how really good you are. Please
+forgive me if I was a little hasty with you the other evening. I know
+you will never regret, darling husband, helping me to keep both my
+vows&mdash;the vow I made to you, and the vow I made mother. No one ever had
+a more loving wife than I shall prove to you, and no one ever had a
+dearer little sister than you will find my Judy when you really know
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"Her Judy, indeed!" murmured Quentyns, when he read his wife's letter at
+his breakfast-table on the following morning. "Tiresome <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>little
+piece&mdash;she'll never be <em>my</em> Judy, however much she may be Hilda's. Well,
+I suppose I must make the best of a bad job, but if I had known
+beforehand that that wretched sentimental child was to be tacked on to
+us, I'd have thought twice.... No, I wouldn't though, I love Hilda well
+enough to bear some inconvenience for her sake; but if she thinks this
+step will really add to our happiness, she'll soon find her mistake.
+Fancy her asking me to sell her engagement ring! I can never get over
+that. Things can't be quite the same again&mdash;it's impossible. Well, well,
+more than one friend has told me I'd wake from my dream of bliss some
+day. I have, with a vengeance&mdash;it has been something of a shock too.
+Heigho! I am not going to <em>look</em> like defeat, anyhow. Of course, too,
+I'll be just the same to Hilda outwardly. Ah, there's Susan&mdash;I'd better
+speak to her and get her to tell cook. This is Thursday&mdash;they'll be here
+in two days."</p>
+
+<p>"Susan," as the neat parlor-maid entered the room, "I have had a letter
+from your mistress. She is coming home on Saturday, and will bring
+little Miss Merton with her. Have the things come from Shoolbred's yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"The furniture, sir, for the spare room? Yes, it arrived yesterday, and
+the man is coming to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>lay down the carpet and put up the curtains this
+morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Susan, you get the room ready, and have the bed well aired, and
+tell me if there's anything more wanted&mdash;the child has been ill, and
+she'll require every comfort. Mrs. Quentyns will wish the room to look
+as nice as possible. I know nothing about these matters&mdash;see to it,
+Susan, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir; you may depend on me and cook to do everything right&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And tell cook about your mistress. Let me see, they'll be home between
+five and six on Saturday evening. I shan't dine at home to-night, and if
+a telegram comes for me, I want you to wire to my city address. This is
+it."</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns left the house, and Susan and the cook spent a busy day in
+dusting, polishing, sweeping, and cleaning.</p>
+
+<p>The little spare room looked very sweet and bright with the simple tasty
+furniture which Quentyns had chosen. The small bed was inviting in its
+white draperies. The furniture, painted in artistic greens, had a cool
+and young effect. The room looked like a child's room, and Susan and
+cook were in ecstasies over its appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"Master <em>'ave</em> taste and no mistake," said <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>cook. "But why don't he come
+and look for 'isself at all we have done, Susan? So natty as everything
+looks, and the furniture master's taste and all. Won't missis be
+pleased! But why don't he come and say what he thinks of how we has put
+the things, Susan?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never you mind," said Susan. "Master knows as the arranging of
+furniture is woman's province&mdash;there's no fussing in him, and that's
+what I likes him for."</p>
+
+<p>Saturday arrived in due time, and the little house in Philippa Terrace
+was in apple-pie order.</p>
+
+<p>As Quentyns was leaving for town that morning, Susan waylaid him.</p>
+
+<p>"What hour shall I tell my missis that we may expect you home, sir?" she
+asked. "Mrs. Quentyns and the little lady will be here by six, and the
+very first thing my missis will ask is, when you are coming in."</p>
+
+<p>"Say," began Quentyns&mdash;he paused. "I'll write a line," he said; "you can
+give it to your mistress. I shan't be in to dinner to-night, and cook
+had better prepare tea for Mrs. Quentyns and Miss Merton, with fish or
+chops or something of that sort. I'll write a line&mdash;I'm glad you
+reminded me, Susan."</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns went into his tiny little study, and wrote a few hasty words.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
+"<span class="smcap">Dear Hilda</span>: I have some important work to get through to-night,
+and shall not be back early. I have the latch-key, so no one
+need sit up. I shall dine at the club with Rivers. Go to bed
+early if you are tired.</p>
+
+<p class="right">"Your Affectionate Husband."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>This letter was handed to Hilda on her arrival. She was too excited and
+too interested in getting Judy into the house, and showing her all the
+pleasant arrangements made for her comfort, to read it at first; but
+when her tired little sister was safe in bed, and Hilda had seen her
+enjoying a cup of tea, with some toast and a new-laid country egg, then
+she took Jasper's note out of her pocket.</p>
+
+<p>She was in her own room, and she hesitated for a moment before she
+opened it. She had a kind of premonition that there was pain in it. Her
+home-coming had made her happy, and even while she was opening the
+envelope of Jasper's letter she was listening for the click of his
+latch-key in the hall-door lock.</p>
+
+<p>He was always home in good time on Saturdays, and surely he would make
+extra haste to-night in order to give his wife and his little sister a
+hearty welcome.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda's was the most forgiving nature in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>world. During that scene
+in the conservatory at Little Staunton she had lost her temper with her
+husband, but she felt quite sure now that her hasty words must be
+forgotten. As she forgave absolutely, so would he. Why had he written to
+her therefore? Why was he not here? She pulled the note out of its
+envelope, and read the few words that it contained.</p>
+
+<p>It is not too much to say that her heart sank down, down, very low
+indeed in her breast. She became conscious for the first time in her
+life of that heart-hunger, that absolute starved sort of ache which had
+so nearly wrecked Judy's little life. This was the first pang of pain,
+but the ache was to go on and become worse presently.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda was a very patient sort of woman, however, and it did not occur to
+her to cry out or make a fuss. She read the note twice, then put it into
+her pocket and went downstairs.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell cook that I don't want any dinner," she said to Susan; "I will
+have my tea upstairs with Miss Judy. Tell her not to get dinner, as Mr.
+Quentyns is obliged to be out this evening."</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda," called Judy's weak little voice from out of her luxurious white
+bed; "Hilda, do come here a minute."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda went immediately into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so happy and so sleepy," said Judy. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>"I'm like a bird in a
+nest&mdash;oh, I am so snug. Jasper will be coming in presently, won't he,
+Hilda? and you'll want to be with him. I shan't need you at all
+to-night, Hilda darling; I'm going to sleep very soon, and I just sent
+for you now to say that you mustn't come up to me after dinner&mdash;you must
+stay with Jasper and let him amuse you. I am sure you want lots of
+amusement after all the dull nursing you have had. Go and put on your
+pretty dinner dress now, Hilda, and then come and look at me and say
+good-night. I am so awfully happy, and I just want one kiss from you
+before I go to sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"But you don't want to go to sleep yet, little puss," said Hilda, in her
+most cheerful tone; "at least I hope you don't until I have had my tea.
+I want to have my tea with you, darling, so I hope you don't mind
+putting up with my company for a little longer."</p>
+
+<p>"As if I could mind&mdash;you know better. But, Hilda, if you have tea now
+you won't be hungry for your dinner."</p>
+
+<p>Judy puckered her dark brows with anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to have dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"You aren't&mdash;not really! then what will Jasper say?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've had a little letter from Jasper, darling; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>he is obliged to be out
+late on business, and won't dine at home to-night. Ah, here comes Susan
+with another new-laid egg for me, and some fresh toast. Now I am going
+to have a delightful little supper in your company, Judy, and then I
+shall settle you for the night."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda talked faster than was her wont; there was an additional
+rose-color in her pretty cheeks, and a brighter light than usual in her
+soft brown eyes. She laughed and jested and made merry over her egg and
+toast.</p>
+
+<p>"How pretty you look!" said Judy, with a heart-whole sigh of admiration
+and content.</p>
+
+<p>She saw nothing wrong, and Hilda kissed her and left the room a few
+minutes later.</p>
+
+<p>She was still wearing her heavy traveling-dress, but after a moment's
+reflection she went into her bedroom, and quickly changed it for a pale
+silk dress of the softest shade of rose. This dress was a special
+favorite of her husband's; he used to liken her to a rosebud in it, and
+said that no color more truly matched the soft tender bloom of her young
+face.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda put on the rose silk now, arranged her dark hair picturesquely,
+and going downstairs to the little drawing room, occupied herself for an
+hour or more in giving it some of those delicate touches which make the
+difference between <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>the mistress of the house being at home and away.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very warm evening for the time of year, but Hilda had a fire
+lit in the grate. The shaded lamp shed a softened golden glow in its
+accustomed corner of the room, and Jasper's favorite chair was placed
+ready for his reception; then Hilda sank down into her own easy-chair,
+and taking up a book, tried to read.</p>
+
+<p>Susan came presently into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Susan," said her mistress, "I was about to ring for you. It has
+struck ten o'clock; you and cook are to go to bed, please; I will wait
+up for Mr. Quentyns."</p>
+
+<p>"If you please, ma'am," said Susan.</p>
+
+<p>She stopped and hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Susan?" answered Mrs. Quentyns, in a gentle interrogative tone.</p>
+
+<p>"If you please, ma'am, master has been very late coming home when you
+was in the country&mdash;not till past midnight most nights."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Susan; but Mr. Quentyns will probably be in earlier
+to-night, and I wish to remain up. Go to bed, and tell cook to do the
+same. Oh, and please, I should like Miss Judy to have a cup of tea
+brought to her room at eight to-morrow morning. Good-night, Susan."</p>
+
+<p>The parlor-maid withdrew.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>"And don't she look beautiful as a pictur," she muttered under her
+breath. "Pore young lady, I doubt if she's pleased with master though.
+Him staying away and all on the first night as she comes back. I
+wouldn't set up for him ef I were her&mdash;no, that I wouldn't; I wouldn't
+make so little of myself; but she's proud, too, is Mrs. Quentyns, and
+she don't let on; no, not a bit. Well, I respect her for that, but I
+misdoubt me if all is right atween that pair."</p>
+
+<p>Susan went upstairs to confide her suspicions to cook. They talked in
+low whispers together, and wondered what the mystery could be which was
+keeping Quentyns from his pretty wife's side.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, in the silent house the moments for the one anxious
+watcher went slowly by. Her novel was not interesting&mdash;she let it fall
+on her knees, and looking at the little clock on the mantelpiece,
+counted the moments until eleven should strike. She quite expected that
+Jasper would be home at eleven. It did not enter for a moment into her
+calculations that he could be absent on this first night of her return
+beyond that hour. When the eleven musical strokes sounded on the little
+clock, and were echoed in many deeper booms from without, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>she got up,
+and opening the drawing-room door, stepped out into the little hall.</p>
+
+<p>Footsteps kept passing and passing in the street. Cabs kept rolling up
+to other doors and rolling away again. Jasper must surely arrive at any
+moment.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda softly opened the hall door, and standing on the steps, looked up
+and down the gas-lit street. If Jasper were walking home he would see
+her. The lamp light from within threw her slim figure into strong
+relief. A man passing by stopped for an instant to look at her.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda shut the hall door hastily in fear and distress. The man had
+looked as if he might say something rude. She returned to her little
+drawing room, and sitting down by the dying fire stared fixedly into its
+embers until her eyes were full of tears.</p>
+
+<p>Between twelve and one Quentyns let himself softly into the house with
+his latch-key. He was immediately attracted by the light in the drawing
+room, the door of which was slightly ajar. He came into the room at
+once, to find Hilda lying back in her easy-chair, fast asleep. She was
+looking pale&mdash;all her pretty roses had fled. Quentyns' first impulse was
+to fold her in his arms in an embrace of absolute love and
+reconciliation.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>What a pity it is that we don't oftener yield to our first impulses,
+for they are as a rule whispered to us by our good angels.</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns bent forward, and lightly, very lightly, touched the sleeper's
+soft hair with his big hand. That touch was a caress, but it startled
+Hilda, who woke up with a cry.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jasper," she said, looking at him with alarm in her eyes, "you&mdash;you
+are home! I didn't mean to go to sleep, and&mdash;what is it, Jasper?"</p>
+
+<p>"Kiss me, Hilda; I am glad you have returned," said Quentyns. "But
+another night, if I should happen to be late, you must not sit up for
+me&mdash;I hate being waited for."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
+<a name="rift" id="rift"></a>CHAPTER XIV.<br />
+
+<small>THE LITTLE RIFT.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No backward path; ah! no returning;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No second crossing that ripple's flow:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come to me now for the mist is burning:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Come ere it darkens; Ah, no; ah, no!<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">Jean Ingelow.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Jasper Quentyns was quite certain that he was behaving admirably under
+circumstances of a specially trying nature.</p>
+
+<p>Judy's advent in the house gave him no small annoyance. Hilda's behavior
+about Judy, her fit of sudden passion, above all the relinquishing of
+her engagement ring, had cut him to the quick. He was proud, sensitive,
+and jealous; when, therefore, he could smile at Judy and chat in light
+and pleasant tones to his wife, when he could remark on the furniture in
+the spare room, and make many suggestions for the comfort of the little
+sister-in-law whom he detested, he was under the impression that his
+conduct was not only exemplary but Christian.</p>
+
+<p>It was true that he went out a good deal in the evenings, not taking
+Hilda with him as had been <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>his original intention, but leaving her at
+home to enjoy the society of the child who had brought the first cloud
+into his home.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to dine out to-night, Hilda," he would say. "A man I know
+particularly well has asked me. Afterward he and I may go to the theater
+together. You won't mind of course being left, as you have Judy with
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, dear!" she replied, on the first of these occasions; and when
+Jasper came to say something of this sort two or three times a week,
+Hilda's invariable gentle answer was always that she did not mind.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper was kind&mdash;kindness itself, and if she did feel just a trifle
+afraid of him, and if she could not help knowing all over her heart that
+the sun did not shine now for her, that there was a cloud between her
+husband and herself, which she could neither brush away nor penetrate,
+she made no outward sign of being anything different from the cheery and
+affectionate Hilda of old. There were subjects now, however, which she
+shrank from touching on in Jasper's presence. One of them was her
+engagement ring, another the furniture in Judy's room. That ring she had
+been told by more than one connoisseur was worth at least fifty pounds,
+and Hilda was certain that the simple furniture which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>made Judy's
+little room so bower-like and youthful could not have cost anything
+approaching that sum. Still Jasper said nothing about giving her change
+out of the money which he had spent, and Hilda feared to broach the
+subject of the ring to him. Another topic which by a sort of instinct
+she refrained from was Judy herself. When Jasper was in the house Hilda
+was always glad when Judy retired to her own room. When the gay little
+voice, happy now, and clear and sweet as a lark's, was heard singing
+snatches of gay songs all over the house, if Jasper were there, Hilda
+would carefully close the door of the room he was sitting in.</p>
+
+<p>"Not now, Judy darling," she would say, when the child bounded eagerly
+into their presence. "Jasper is just going out&mdash;when he is out I will
+attend to you. Go on with your drawing in the dining room until I come
+to you, Judy."</p>
+
+<p>Judy would go away at once obedient and happy, but Hilda's face would
+flush with anxiety, and her eyes would not meet her husband's. So
+between each of these young people there was that wall of reserve which
+is the sad beginning of love's departure; but Hilda, being the weaker of
+the two and having less to occupy her thoughts, suffered more than
+Jasper.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>On a certain evening when Judy had been a happy resident of No. 10
+Philippa Terrace for over a month, Quentyns was about to leave his
+office and to return home, when his friend Tom Rivers entered his room.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you any engagement for to-night, Quentyns?" he asked abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"None," said Jasper, visible relief on his face, for he was beginning to
+dislike the evenings which he spent with a wife who always had a sense
+of constraint over her, and with the knowledge that Judy's presence was
+only tolerated when he was by. "I am at your service, Tom," said Jasper.
+"Do you want me to go anywhere with you?"</p>
+
+<p>Rivers was a great deal older than Quentyns, he was a very clever and
+practical man of the world. He looked now full at Jasper. He had not
+failed to observe the eager relief on his friend's face when he asked if
+he had any engagement. To a certain extent Jasper had made Rivers his
+confidant. He had told him that Hilda's little sister, who had been so
+ill and had given them all such a fright, was staying now at Philippa
+Terrace.</p>
+
+<p>Rivers shrewdly guessed that Hilda's little sister was scarcely a
+welcome guest, as far as Quentyns was concerned. Rivers had taken a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>fancy to pretty Mrs. Quentyns. With a quick mental survey he saw again
+the picture of the young wife on the night when he had dined at Philippa
+Terrace.</p>
+
+<p>"She did not look perfectly happy," he thought. "I hope Quentyns is good
+to her. I seldom saw a more charming face than hers, but with such eyes,
+so full of expression, so full of that sort of dumb, dog-like
+affectionateness, she must, she will suffer horribly if there comes a
+cloud between her husband and herself. Quentyns is the best of fellows,
+but he can be dogged and obstinate&mdash;I hope to goodness there's nothing
+up in that pretty little home of theirs."</p>
+
+<p>Aloud Rivers said abruptly, "I had thought of asking you to dine at the
+club with me, and then we might have gone to see Irving in <em>Henry
+VIII.</em>,&mdash;a friend has given me two stalls,&mdash;but on second thoughts I can
+dispose of those tickets. What I should really like best is to come home
+with you, Quentyns, and have the pleasure of another chat with your
+wife. I want to hear you both sing too&mdash;I seldom heard two voices better
+suited to go together. May I invite myself to dinner to-night, Jasper?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, certainly," said Jasper, after a moment's awkward hesitation. "I'll
+just wire to Hilda, if you don't mind."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>"Not at all," said Rivers; "but remember, I am coming to take
+pot-luck."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper ran off to the nearest telegraph office.</p>
+
+<p>Rivers saw that his proposal was anything but welcome, but for that very
+reason he was determined to carry it out.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later he found himself standing in the pretty drawing room in
+Philippa Terrace, talking to the most charming little girl he had ever
+had the pleasure of meeting.</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns had run up at once to his room, and Hilda had not yet put in an
+appearance, but Judy, who was sitting on a sofa reading "Sylvie and
+Bruno," jumped up at once and came forward in her shy but self-possessed
+little way to meet her sister's guest.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do?" she said. "Where would you like to sit?"</p>
+
+<p>"I prefer standing, thank you," said Rivers. He smiled at Judy and held
+out his hand. "So you are the young mutineer," he said suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>Judy's big eyes looked up at him in surprise&mdash;she was dressed in a green
+silk frock, with a broad golden-brown sash round her waist. Her dress
+was cut rather low in the neck, and she had several rows of golden-brown
+beads round her throat. The quaint dress suited the quaint but earnest
+little face.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>"What do you mean by calling me such a queer name?" said Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"I am a great friend of your brother-in-law's," said Rivers, now
+dropping into a chair and drawing the child toward him, "and he has told
+me all about you&mdash;you mutinied when Mrs. Quentyns went away&mdash;it was very
+wrong of you, very wrong indeed."</p>
+
+<p>"You can't judge anything about it," said Judy, the sensitive color
+coming into her face; "you are on Jasper's side, so you can't know."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I'm on Jasper's side, he's an excellent fellow, and a great
+friend of mine."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like him," said Judy; "it isn't to be expected I should."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not, you wouldn't be a mutineer if you did."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you wouldn't call me by that horrid name," said Judy. "I can't
+quite understand what it means, but I'm sure it's disagreeable."</p>
+
+<p>"A mutineer is always a disagreeable person," continued Rivers, looking
+with his pleasant eyes full at the child. "He is in a state of
+rebellion, you know. People aren't nice when they rebel against the
+inevitable."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the inevitable?" asked Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"The inevitable!" repeated Rivers. "The inevitable," he continued
+gravely, "is what has <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>to be met because it cannot be avoided. The
+inevitable stands directly in a person's path; he can't go round it, he
+can't jump over it, he has just to meet it bravely and make the best
+friend he possibly can of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," said Judy, "that sounds like a fairy tale. Babs and I love fairy
+tales, particularly the old, old ones&mdash;the Jack the Giant Killer
+sort&mdash;you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Jack the Giant Killer had lots of inevitables to meet," pursued Rivers.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, of course," said Judy; "now I know what you mean as far as dear
+Jack was concerned, but I don't know what you mean about me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you see, Miss Judy&mdash;you don't mind my calling Jasper's little
+sister Miss Judy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't talk of him," said Judy, a frown between her brows.</p>
+
+<p>"But I must if I'm to explain my meaning to you, for he's the
+inevitable."</p>
+
+<p>"Now what <em>do</em> you mean?&mdash;you're the most puzzling sort of grown-up
+person I ever met!"</p>
+
+<p>"And you're the most intelligent sort of little person I ever met. Now
+let me explain matters to you. Your sister is very pretty, isn't she?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty?" said Judy meditatively&mdash;"pretty is such a common sort of
+word&mdash;if you call <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>flowers pretty, Hilda is, I suppose, but she's much,
+much more than pretty."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand. I'm quite sure I understand you perfectly. And your
+sister is good too, and sweet?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes!" Judy's eyes filled with tears, she blinked her eyelashes and
+looked out of the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now," said Rivers, and his voice was quite tender, for Judy's
+manner and attitude touched him wonderfully. "Well, now, you see it was
+inevitable that some man should love a woman like your sister, and want
+to make her his wife, and wish to take her altogether to himself. It was
+inevitable, also, that a woman with a gentle heart like Mrs. Quentyns
+should love this man in return and want to devote her life to him."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't!" said Judy, suddenly; "I understand you now, I don't want you to
+say another word." She crossed over to the window and stood there with
+her back to Rivers, looking gravely out.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda came down in her rose-colored silk, and Rivers did not wonder that
+Judy thought of the flowers when she looked at her.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda was unfeignedly glad to see him, and they had a pleasanter evening
+than any since Judy's advent in Philippa Terrace. Rivers paid <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>a great
+deal of attention to the smallest and youngest member of the party, and
+not only completely won Hilda's heart by so doing, but induced Quentyns
+to look at his little sister-in-law with new eyes, and to discover for
+the first time, that under certain conditions that wistful little face
+could be both lovely and charming.</p>
+
+<p>"Remember about the inevitable," said Rivers, as he bade the child
+good-night.</p>
+
+<p>"What did Mr. Rivers mean, Judy?" said Hilda. "Oh, Judy, what flushed
+cheeks!&mdash;I did wrong to let you sit up, but you seemed so happy&mdash;you
+seemed to take such a fancy to Mr. Rivers."</p>
+
+<p>"He was disagreeable to me&mdash;very disagreeable," said Judy, "but I liked
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"And what did he mean by reminding you of the inevitable?" continued
+Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"It was in that way he was disagreeable," replied Judy. "I can't
+explain, Hilda darling; good-night&mdash;I am going to bed now."</p>
+
+<p>That evening, in their own room, Hilda came suddenly to her husband's
+side.</p>
+
+<p>"Jasper, don't you think you might forget about it now?" she said
+timidly.</p>
+
+<p>"Forget about what, Hilda?" He had been genial and pleasant until she
+began to speak; now his face stiffened in every outline, and the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>look
+came over it which always took poor Hilda's courage away.</p>
+
+<p>"We were so happy to-night," she began in a faltering voice&mdash;"we had
+quite the best evening we have had since&mdash;&mdash;" here she hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Since Judy came," pursued Jasper. "Yes, that goes without saying, there
+were four of us&mdash;even the dearest friends are dull when there are three,
+and of course Rivers is capital company, he's quite the best fellow all
+round I ever met."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes!" said Hilda, a little impatiently, "but I don't want to talk
+of him. Jasper dear, let us forget, let us&mdash;oh, let us be as we were
+before."</p>
+
+<p>Tears choked her voice, she turned her head away.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so tired," she said suddenly; "I am the sort of girl who wants
+sunshine, I am so tired of being without it."</p>
+
+<p>"When you talk in that metaphorical style I fail to understand you,"
+said Quentyns. "There's not the least cloud between us that I am aware
+of, and if you are not in the sunshine, Hilda, I am afraid it is your
+own fault. I have done everything in my power to meet your wishes. You
+profess great love for me, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>great love for your sister, and now you
+have us both, what can you possibly want besides?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only your forgiveness, your complete and full forgiveness."</p>
+
+<p>"I have nothing to forgive, my dear. You do your best&mdash;no one can do
+better than their best."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said poor Hilda, with a sigh. She did not add any more.</p>
+
+<p>"I trust you are not going to turn into a fanciful sort of woman," said
+Quentyns, half an hour later. "If there's a person in the world who
+irritates me it's a woman with whims, a woman who has a grievance."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, Jasper! I won't have a grievance," she replied humbly.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
+<a name="trumpery" id="trumpery"></a>CHAPTER XV.<br />
+
+<small>THREE IS TRUMPERY.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The crown must be won for Heaven, dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the battle-field of life:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My child, though thy foes are strong and tried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He loveth the weak and small;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Angels of Heaven are on thy side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And God is over all!<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;Adelaide Proctor.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Judy's life was sunshine, and therefore Judy got quickly well; she was
+like the birds and the flowers&mdash;give her sunshine enough, and she would
+sing like the birds and bloom like the flowers. Hilda was her sun, and
+now she was always basking herself in the beloved presence. Her cup of
+happiness was full, and such contentment reigned in her little heart
+that no moment was dull to her, and time never hung heavy on her hands.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda was just as sweet and loving as of old, and really, now that she
+lived in the house with him, Jasper, her <em>b&ecirc;te noire</em>, the awful big
+brother-in-law who had come and stolen her treasure away, seemed to make
+but little difference in her <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>life; it was almost nicer being with Hilda
+in London than being with Hilda at the old Rectory&mdash;she seemed to get
+more undivided attention from her sister than when that sister was the
+Rector's right hand in his busy life, and when Judy had to learn lessons
+with Babs, and walk with stupid, non-comprehending Miss Mills.</p>
+
+<p>Now Judy learned rapidly, for Hilda was her teacher; and how delightful
+that lunch was which was also Judy's early dinner, when she and her
+sister sat <em>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</em>, and talked always, always of old times.</p>
+
+<p>If visitors dropped in at tea-time Judy could afford, in her generous
+happiness, to give them a little of her fascinating Hilda's attention,
+for so often now there were heavenly evenings to follow, when that <em>b&ecirc;te
+noire</em> the brother-in-law was not coming home, and the two sisters could
+be alone.</p>
+
+<p>Judy loved the cozy sort of tea-dinners which began those evenings, and
+then the long talk afterward in the lengthening twilight, when she sat
+on a stool at Hilda's feet, with her head pressed up against Hilda's
+arm, and her happy heart beating close to the other heart, which was all
+her world.</p>
+
+<p>On those evenings too Hilda came upstairs and tucked her up in her white
+bed, and said, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span><em>Now I lay me down to sleep</em> to her, just as she used in
+the old nursery at home, after mother died.</p>
+
+<p>It was an understood thing, although no words had passed between the
+two&mdash;it was an understood thing, that on the evenings when Jasper was at
+home, Hilda should not come upstairs to Judy. This seemed a perfectly
+fair and just arrangement, they were both in full accord on the subject;
+but Judy could not help loving those days when she might have her sister
+all to herself the best.</p>
+
+<p>On the morning after Rivers had dined in Philippa Terrace, as Jasper was
+preparing to go out as usual, Hilda ran into the little hall to give him
+a last word; she left the door of the dining room ajar, which was not
+her invariable custom, and Judy, sitting at the breakfast table, found
+herself in the position of an eavesdropper.</p>
+
+<p>"You are coming back to dinner to-night?" asked the wife.</p>
+
+<p>Jasper had been visited with some slight qualms of compunction that
+morning, as he noticed how much paler Hilda's face was than when first
+he had married her, so he put his arm round her neck now, and looking at
+her with something of his old tenderness, said gently:</p>
+
+<p>"Do you really wish it?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>"Jasper, how can you doubt?" she replied. "All the moments you are away
+from me are long and wearisome."</p>
+
+<p>"Long and wearisome," repeated Judy softly to herself in the breakfast
+parlor. Some of the color fled out of her face now; she lost her
+appetite for the bread-and-butter and marmalade which she was eating.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't find three trumpery," pursued Jasper. Then he added with a
+little sigh, "I wish I didn't; but I'll come home, Hilda, if you wish
+it. Good-by, my dear. Stay, stop a moment; suppose I take you to the
+play to-night. Judy won't mind going to bed a little earlier than
+usual."</p>
+
+<p>Just at that moment Hilda started and looked round; she heard a slight
+noise, and wondered if Susan were coming upstairs. The sound which
+disturbed her was made by Judy, who, awaking suddenly to the knowledge
+that she was an eavesdropper, had risen from the breakfast table and had
+gently closed the dining-room door.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course Judy doesn't mind being left," said Hilda in a joyful tone.
+"I should love to go out somewhere with you, Jasper. I really do want a
+little bit of change."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, my love; I'll take tickets for <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>something amusing, and be
+home to dinner at six."</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns went out, and Hilda danced back to the dining room. Her husband
+had been kind, with something of the old tender kindness, and her heart
+leaped up like a flower answering to the sun.</p>
+
+<p>Judy was standing by the window looking out.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it a lovely day, pet?" said Hilda, coming up to her. "Suppose we
+give ourselves a holiday, and go to the Academy together. I have not
+been there yet this year, and you have never been in all your life,
+puss. You know how you love pictures; fancy room after room full of
+pictures&mdash;all sorts, good, bad, and indifferent; all colors in them; all
+sorts of subjects depicted on the canvases. There's a treat for my
+little artist&mdash;shall I give it her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Hilda, I'd like to go with you very much."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you tired, dear, your face is so grave?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, darling, I'm not at all tired."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we'll give ourselves a holiday. Run up and put on your pretty
+green cloak, and that big black hat with the green velvet. I want you to
+look as picturesque as possible. I want to be proud of you."</p>
+
+<p>Judy suddenly flew to Hilda, clasped her arms <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>round her neck, gave her
+a passionate hug, and then rushed out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter with the child?" thought the elder sister for a brief
+moment, "she was so bright yesterday, and even this morning, but now
+she's dull, although she tries to hide it. I wonder if I ought to give
+her some more of her tonic. Well, well, whether Judy is grave or gay, I
+cannot help feeling very happy at the thought of going out with Jasper
+once more."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda gave all directions with regard to the nice little dinner which
+was to precede the play. She found a story book which Judy had not yet
+read, and left it in the drawing room ready for her entertainment when
+she was away; then, dressed also in her best, she went out with her
+little sister, and, calling a hansom from the nearest stand, drove to
+Burlington House.</p>
+
+<p>As usual the great exhibition was crowded with all sorts and conditions
+of men&mdash;the fashionable, the studious, the artistic, the ignorant, were
+all to be found there. Judy had a passion for art. She was an artist by
+nature, down to the tips of her sensitive little fingers. No sooner did
+she find herself in the midst of all the pictures, than whatever cloud
+made her a little graver than usual took to itself wings and flew away.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>Her pertinent remarks, her eager criticism, shrewd, observant, often
+strangely to the point, aroused the attention of some of the bystanders;
+they smiled as the pretty child and the beautiful girl walked slowly by
+together. Judy's intelligent face was commented on; the pathetic, eager,
+wistful eyes seemed to make their way to more than one heart. Hilda,
+thinking of her evening with Jasper, was quite her old self, and people
+thought what a happy pair the two were.</p>
+
+<p>In the third room they suddenly came face to face with Rivers.</p>
+
+<p>"What a bit of luck!" he said, going up at once to them. "Now, Mrs.
+Quentyns, I shall insist upon taking you to lunch somewhere. Miss Judy,
+how are you? what do you think of our national picture fair?"</p>
+
+<p>"Some of the pictures are lovely," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Some!" he retorted, raising his brows. "You don't mean to say you are
+setting yourself up as a critic."</p>
+
+<p>"Judy is an artist by nature," said Hilda for her. "Hark to her remarks
+with regard to the two dogs in that picture."</p>
+
+<p>"They are meant to move, but they are perfectly still," said Judy; "if I
+drew them, I'd"&mdash;she puckered her brows&mdash;"oh, I'd see that they were
+gamboling about."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>A young man, who was standing not far off, turned away with a red
+face&mdash;he happened to be the unfortunate artist. Bitter hatred of Judy
+filled his heart, for some of the people who were standing near tittered
+aloud, and remarked for the first time that the dogs were wooden.</p>
+
+<p>Rivers walked with Mrs. Quentyns and Judy through the different rooms:
+he was an art connoisseur himself, and even dabbled in paint in a
+dilettante sort of fashion. He drew Judy on to make remarks, laughed and
+quizzed her for some ideas which he considered in advance of the times,
+for others which were altogether too antiquated for him to pass
+unchallenged.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how Stanmore would like to hear you," he remarked, naming one of
+the pet artists of the New Art school. "Why, Judy, you are a democrat;
+we should have no Academy if we listened to you, you little rebel; but
+then, I forgot, of course you are a mutineer&mdash;you are true to your
+character through everything."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda scarcely listened as the young man and the child chatted and
+laughed together, her heart was dwelling altogether in the future. She
+fancied herself even now driving to the play by her husband's side; she
+saw the pretty dress she meant to wear; in her mind was reflected as in
+a picture the image of her fair self, and the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>image also of the man who
+was still in her heart lover as well as husband. No matter for the
+present cloud, he was still her lover. She wondered if he would give her
+another tender glance, and if, as they sat side by side when the curtain
+was up and the actors were moving about on the stage, he would touch her
+hand with his, and show her in that way that she was forgiven.</p>
+
+<p>"If he would only understand that I must keep both my vows," she
+murmured, "if I could only get him to really comprehend that much, much
+as I love my Judy, I would rather be alone with him&mdash;that is, I would
+rather be alone with him, if it makes him unhappy to have my sweet
+little Judy in the house. But how happy she is since I brought her home;
+how gay her voice sounds now."</p>
+
+<p>"I said you were a mutineer," laughed Rivers. "I know by your manner
+that you will never put up with the inevitable."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't!" said Judy; Hilda was looking at a lovely landscape, a friend
+she knew came up and spoke to her. "Don't!" said Judy, turning and
+looking full at the young man; her eyes were grave, her childish face
+grew suddenly white and drawn. "Perhaps I am going to give up being a
+mutineer," she murmured.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
+<a name="cross" id="cross"></a>CHAPTER XVI.<br />
+
+<small>A LITTLE GIRL AND A LITTLE CROSS.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Love that hath us in the net,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can he pass, and we forget?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many suns arise and set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many a chance the years beget.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love the gift is love the debt.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Even so.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Love is hurt with jar and fret.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love is made a vague regret.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eyes with idle tears are wet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Idle habit links us yet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is love? for we forget:<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Ah, no! no!<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;Tennyson.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Mrs. Quentyns and Judy enjoyed their lunch with Rivers. They went into
+the Park afterward for a short time, and then Hilda, remembering that
+the hours were flying, and that she must be dressed and ready to receive
+her husband before six that evening, bade the young man a hasty good-by,
+and drove home with Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so glad you are going to the play," said the little girl. "Why
+don't you often go&mdash;why don't you constantly go out in the evening?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>"If I did, Judy, what a dull time you'd have."</p>
+
+<p>"You're quite mistaken, Hilda; I shouldn't be dull at all. You don't
+know how I like story-books, and Susan is such a nice girl. She has got
+brothers and sisters at home, and she tells me about them when you are
+out. I am never lonely; I couldn't possibly be sad in the same house
+with you. If I saw you once or twice a day it would be enough for me&mdash;it
+would really."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear little pet," laughed Hilda, "how solemnly you are talking, what
+a frightfully earnest tone has got into your voice, and how you are
+puckering your poor little forehead. I have only one thing to say in
+reply to your generous wish to leave me so much by myself, namely, that
+I should find it extremely inconvenient and extremely lonely to have you
+in the house and only see you twice a day."</p>
+
+<p>"But suppose I weren't with you at all, Hilda&mdash;suppose I were still at
+the Rectory."</p>
+
+<p>"That would be different," said Hilda, in a light tone; "you would be in
+your natural home, and I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But you <em>would</em> be lonely if I were away from you, Hilda; do say you'd
+be fearfully lonely!"</p>
+
+<p>The passion in Judy's voice was unnoticed by Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd miss you, of course, my pet," she said; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>"but I do declare that
+stupid driver is taking us wrong. Oh, if he goes up that way it will be
+such a round that I shall be late for Jasper's dinner. Poke your parasol
+through the little window in the roof, Judy, and stop him, do."</p>
+
+<p>Judy obeyed, the driver received his directions in due course, and a
+moment or two later Hilda and Judy were standing in the little hall at
+Philippa Terrace. Quentyns came suddenly forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Jasper, you have come back already," said the wife. "It isn't five
+yet, but I&mdash;I can dress in no time. Have you got the tickets?&mdash;where are
+we going?"</p>
+
+<p>"Come into the drawing room, Hilda, I want to say a word to you," said
+Quentyns.</p>
+
+<p>"Run upstairs and take your things off, Judy," said Hilda. She followed
+her husband into the little drawing room and shut the door. "Well?" she
+said. Her voice was still gay, but a little, just a little, of the old
+fear was creeping back into her heart.</p>
+
+<p>"I am ever so sorry, Hilda, to disappoint you," said Quentyns, "but when
+I went to town this morning I absolutely forgot an engagement I made a
+week ago. I have to go down with two or three men to Richmond. We are to
+dine at the Star and Garter, and afterward Philip <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>Danvers has asked me
+to go home with him. The Danvers are charming people&mdash;have a beautiful
+house on the river, and everything in the best possible style. I should
+rather like to cultivate them. It is never a good plan to throw over
+friends who may be influential; still, if you really wish it, Hilda,
+I'll come home to-night and make some sort of excuse to Danvers&mdash;wire to
+him that I am ill, or something of the kind. Of course it is too late
+for me to get tickets for the play, but if you would like me to stay at
+home, I'll&mdash;I'll do it&mdash;so there!"</p>
+
+<p>Hilda's face, which had been white, was now flushed.</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you tell me this morning?" she said. "Why did you forget? I
+spent a day of hope, and now&mdash;now&mdash;&mdash;" Her eyes filled with sudden
+tears, she bit her lips and turned away.</p>
+
+<p>Her action, which seemed almost pettish, annoyed Quentyns.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't cry," he said. "I never supposed you could be so childish.
+Do you think I forgot on purpose? I was looking forward to my time at
+Richmond, but it slipped my memory that this was the day. You needn't
+cry, however, for if you have suddenly taken such a frantic desire for
+my society, it is at your service. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>I shall go out and wire to Danvers,
+and be back again in half an hour."</p>
+
+<p>After all, Mrs. Quentyns had plenty of self-control. The annoyance and
+distress in her voice had altogether left it when she spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you must go, Jasper," she said. "You don't suppose for a
+quarter of an instant that I should stand in your way. Let me go up with
+you and help you to put the things you want into a bag, and you will
+want some tea before you start. I'll ring and tell Susan to prepare it.
+Now come along, dear; I'm glad of course that you are having this
+pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>As Hilda ran upstairs her manner was once more quite cheerful. Quentyns,
+however, whose conscience was smiting him, although he didn't know it,
+could not help acting more or less like a bear with a sore head.</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't have accepted the invitation," he said, "upon my word I
+shouldn't, did I not know that you would have Judy to keep you company.
+You know I haven't that passion for children you have, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The door was closed behind the two.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't say any more," said Hilda, in a frightened sort of voice. "I told
+you I was glad that you were to have the pleasure. Now which bag <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>will
+you take? Will the small Gladstone be large enough?"</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later Quentyns had left the house in a hansom, and Hilda
+went up to Judy's room.</p>
+
+<p>"Come downstairs, darling," she said, "we are to have another long
+evening all to ourselves. What a good thing I've got my sweet little
+sister to stay at home with me. Judy, this was to be a festive night,
+and I had quite a festive dinner prepared. Suppose we keep the occasion,
+although we are only to be by ourselves. You shall dine with me
+to-night, Judy, and we'll both dress for dinner. You shall wear white,
+for you look so sweet in white, and I'll do the same."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you got the old India muslin dress that you used to wear at the
+Rectory before&mdash;before there was a Jasper?" said Judy, in a queer,
+steady kind of little voice. "If you have that old India muslin that
+father loved and Aunt Marjorie loved, and that Babs and I used always to
+say you looked like an angel in, will you put it on to-night,
+Hilda?&mdash;will you wear that dress once again?"</p>
+
+<p>"What a queer thing!" replied Hilda. "I never threw the old muslin away.
+I think I can poke it out of some depths somewhere; and it is <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>so soft
+that, if I shake it out and hang it up for about half an hour, it will
+be quite presentable. Yon funny Judy, why do you wish to see me in that
+dress?"</p>
+
+<p>"You were all mine when you wore that dress last," said Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"I am always yours, my dearest. But don't let us talk sentiment; let us
+make ourselves smart, and let us come downstairs and be happy. We'll
+imagine that we are at a very gay party; heaps and heaps of other people
+in the room, but we two, as is sometimes the case, are more or less
+alone in the crowd. We are so completely one that other people scarcely
+affect us. We can talk together, and whisper old secrets about the
+garden, and Babs, and the animals, and the organ in the church, and the
+funny chorister-boy who would never sing in tune; we can talk of all
+these things, although there are throngs and throngs around us, for in a
+crowd those who love each other often find the best sort of solitude.
+Come down, Judy, come down, and let's be happy!"</p>
+
+<p>"How flushed you are, Hilda; are you well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I never felt better."</p>
+
+<p>"You look awfully pretty; you look quite lovely."</p>
+
+<p>"What a dear little flatterer you are! Does <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>it really matter whether I
+look pretty or not? Aunt Marjorie would scold you, child, for praising
+my looks to my face; she would say you were encouraging vanity."</p>
+
+<p>"And I should tell her to her face that I was not," answered Judy
+stoutly. "It's right to look beautiful; it's copying the flowers. Now
+run and put on your India muslin dress, Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda left the room, and half an hour later the two sisters met in the
+little drawing room. There were fresh flowers in the vases; and a great
+bowl of primroses, which Aunt Marjorie had sent from the Rectory, was
+placed on the little table in the square bay-window.</p>
+
+<p>Judy in her white dress stood near the flowers. She took up one, and in
+an absent sort of fashion pulled it to pieces. Susan announced dinner,
+and the sisters dined together in great state, and with apparent
+enjoyment. Hilda joked about everything, and Judy, catching up her
+spirit, did likewise.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us imagine, just for to-night, that I am grown-up," she said;
+"treat me as if I were your grown sister&mdash;not your little
+sister&mdash;Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda felt in the humor to comply with any request Judy made.</p>
+
+<p>"We will have our coffee in the drawing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>room," she said. "Black coffee
+for me, please, Susan, but bring in a little jug of cream for Miss
+Judy's. Now, dearest," turning to the child, "don't forget that the play
+is going on; we have dined out with numbers, oh, numbers of guests, and
+now we are in the large assembly-room, alone in the crowd, happy because
+we are together."</p>
+
+<p>Judy had thrown herself back into a deep arm-chair in the little drawing
+room while Hilda was speaking; her eyes had a sort of starry radiance
+about them, her cheeks were slightly flushed, her cloudy soft brown hair
+was thrown back from her white brow.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda moved about the room; she was restless notwithstanding the
+enforced calm she was putting upon herself. Judy smiled when Hilda
+spoke, but in her heart certain words kept repeating themselves&mdash;they
+had repeated themselves like a sort of mournful echo in that poor little
+heart all day.</p>
+
+<p>"All the moments you are away from me are long and wearisome," Hilda had
+said to her husband. "All the moments."</p>
+
+<p>And then he had said to her:</p>
+
+<p>"You don't find three trumpery. I wish I didn't!"</p>
+
+<p>"So I'm the trumpery," thought Judy to herself. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>"I'm three. And all the
+moments while Hilda is away from Jasper are long and wearisome. Poor
+Hilda! poor darling! how well she hid it all from me; how good, how very
+good she has been to me; but I'm glad I know. It was a lucky, a very
+lucky thing that the door of the breakfast room was left slightly open
+this morning, and so I was able to hear Jasper's words."</p>
+
+<p>"How silent you are, dearest," said Hilda, looking at the child.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," said Judy, jumping up. "I was thinking."</p>
+
+<p>"Think aloud then, sweet. Let me share your pretty thoughts."</p>
+
+<p>"But they are not pretty, Hilda; and I think I'd rather no one shared
+them. Now let us talk about old times&mdash;about the dear old times before
+there was a Jasper."</p>
+
+<p>"Judy," said Hilda, "there is just one thing I should like to say to
+you. Even if it gives you pain, I ought to remind you, my darling, that
+Jasper is my husband; that I love him. Oh! Judy, Judy, my heart aches
+with love to him. My heart aches because I love my husband so much."</p>
+
+<p>Judy clenched her hands; a great wave of crimson swept over her face.
+Hilda had hidden <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>her own face in her hands, and did not notice the
+child's agitation. Presently the little sister's hand softly touched her
+forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"And you're lonely to-night, poor Hilda, because your Jasper is away?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Judy, it's true. I'm afraid even to tell you how lonely I am."</p>
+
+<p>"And you've been trying to seem cheerful, just to please me."</p>
+
+<p>"And to please myself too," said Hilda, starting up and wiping the tears
+from her eyes. "There, we won't talk about it any more; we'll go on
+pretending that we are having an awfully jolly time."</p>
+
+<p>"You're very brave, Hilda," said Judy; "and when people are brave,
+things generally come right. Now, may I sit on your knee, just as if I
+were a baby instead of a tall girl with long legs? <em>I</em> wouldn't make you
+unhappy, Hilda darling. When there's an inevitable I must face it; I
+must, and you will see that I will. Jack the Giant Killer shan't beat
+<em>me</em> over difficulties when I've made up my mind."</p>
+
+<p>"Judy, your face is flushed, and your eyes are too bright; that strong
+coffee was bad for you, you won't sleep to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say I shan't sleep; but now let us talk of old times."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>"Only for a few moments, dear; you look so excited that I shall not
+rest until I see you safely in bed."</p>
+
+<p>Judy laughed, and declared stoutly that she never felt better.</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour afterward she went up to her pretty little bedroom, Hilda
+promising to follow her in about a quarter of an hour, if she possibly
+could.</p>
+
+<p>When the elder sister entered the room, she found Judy standing by her
+bed in her frilled night-dress.</p>
+
+<p>"You will get cold, love&mdash;do get into bed," said Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to say my prayers to you, Hilda, if you don't mind," said Judy,
+"just as I used when I was a very little girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, darling, if you wish it."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda sat down, and the little sister knelt at her knee.</p>
+
+<p>The old baby prayers were said aloud; but suddenly, in the midst of
+them, Judy bent her head and murmured something which Hilda could not
+hear.</p>
+
+<p>She jumped up a moment later and put her arms round her sister's neck.</p>
+
+<p>"You won't be lonely long, Hilda," she said. "It will be all right;
+you'll see it will be as right <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>as possible. I am glad you are fond of
+Jasper. I am really, really, awfully glad."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night, my darling," said Hilda, kissing her. She went out of the
+room with tears in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor little Judy, how little she knows," thought the elder sister; "how
+very little she knows what a cloud there is between Jasper and me. Oh,
+if it goes on much longer, I think my heart will break!"</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, in her pretty white bed, Judy was murmuring an old text
+to herself:</p>
+
+<p>"He that taketh not up his cross and followeth after Me, cannot be My
+disciple."</p>
+
+<p>Once, long ago, the Rector had explained this text, or rather given a
+shadow of its meaning to the child.</p>
+
+<p>"Followeth after Me," she murmured; and a vision came to her of One who,
+in the great cause of Love, had taken up His cross, even to death.</p>
+
+<p>She wiped the tears from her eyes, and fell asleep.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
+<a name="secret" id="secret"></a>CHAPTER XVII.<br />
+
+<small>JUDY'S SECRET.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Be strong to <em>hope</em>, oh, Heart!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Though day is bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stars can only shine<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the dark night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be strong, oh, Heart of mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Look towards the light!<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">Adelaide Proctor.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The next morning Judy was down specially early to breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>Her cheeks were slightly more flushed than usual, and her eyes, to
+anyone who watched them closely, had a determined, almost hard,
+expression in them. Hilda, however, was too much occupied with her own
+sad thoughts to take any special notice of the child.</p>
+
+<p>"You look well, Judy," she said, giving a quick glance at her. "Now come
+to breakfast, dear, I've a good deal to do afterward."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going out, Hilda?" asked Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm going to be busy all the morning over my accounts; they've got
+into the most disgraceful muddle, and I want to put them <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>straight. I
+shall be in the drawing room, for I keep all my household books in the
+davenport there. I mean to give you a holiday, Judy, but perhaps you
+won't mind reading some of your history to yourself, and doing a few
+sums this morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not," said Judy brightly. "Shall I make you some toast,
+Hilda? This in the toast-rack is so soft and flabby&mdash;do let me, Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>"If you like, dear, you may. It is lucky there is a fire, but I must
+tell cook to discontinue them, the weather is getting so warm."</p>
+
+<p>Judy was an adept at making toast, and it was an old fashion at the
+Rectory that Hilda's toast should be made by her, on those blissful
+red-letter days when the elder sister had tea with the little ones in
+the nursery.</p>
+
+<p>Judy wondered as she delicately browned that toast, and scorched her own
+little cheeks, if Hilda would remember the old days, and the toast which
+she used to make her; but Mrs. Quentyns seemed to be in a sort of brown
+study that morning, and thanked the child absently when the crisp hot
+toast was put on her plate.</p>
+
+<p>"Jasper will be home quite early to-day, won't he, Hilda?" inquired
+Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, Judy&mdash;yes, I suppose so."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure he'll be home early," repeated Judy <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>with confidence; "perhaps
+he'll take you to the play to-night, and perhaps you'll be awfully
+happy."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't talk about it, Judy," said Hilda, in a weary voice; "we must
+all make up our minds to face the fact that there's a great deal <em>more</em>
+than mere happiness in the world. What is happiness? It's only a small
+part of life."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think it is going to be a small part of your life, Hilda; but
+now I'm not going to idle you any more, for you want to get to your
+accounts."</p>
+
+<p>Judy ran out of the room. As she was going slowly upstairs, she paused
+once to say softly to herself:</p>
+
+<p>"It's all happening beautifully; I ought to be glad. Of course I am
+glad. '<em>He that taketh not up his cross.</em>' I'm glad that text keeps
+running in my head, it makes me so nice and strong."</p>
+
+<p>Susan was doing out Judy's room when the little girl ran into it. Judy
+was fond of Susan, and Susan of her, and the girl stopped her work now
+to listen to the child's eager words.</p>
+
+<p>"Susan, do you think Mrs. Quentyns would let you come out with me for a
+little this morning, for about an hour or an hour and a half?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, miss," said Susan, "it aint Monday, which is the day to get ready
+for the laundry, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>nor yet Wednesday, when I turns out the drawing room,
+nor Friday, which is silver day&mdash;there's nothing special for Thursday; I
+should think I could go with you, Miss Judy, and it will be a treat to
+take you about. Is it Mme. Tussand's you has a hankerin' for, Miss?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, Susan, I'm not going to any exhibition; it's a secret&mdash;I'll
+tell you when we're out."</p>
+
+<p>"The Dor&eacute; Gallery, perhaps?" suggested Susan.</p>
+
+<p>"No, it's nothing of that sort; I'll tell you when we're out."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, miss, I'm proud to be at your service whatever it is."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll run down now and ask my sister if you may come with me, Susan."</p>
+
+<p>Judy threw her arms round Hilda as she was coming up from the kitchen
+premises.</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda, the day is so fine!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Judy, you mustn't tempt me to go out. I really have to get those
+accounts straight, they quite weigh on my mind."</p>
+
+<p>"So you shall, Hilda darling; but I was wondering if after I've read my
+history and done my sums, and a little bit of writing I want to get
+through, if you'd let Susan&mdash;if you'd let Susan take me out."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>"Susan!" repeated Hilda, "but I can go with you myself this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>"I know, only I do so want a run on this fine morning, and Susan says
+it's not laundry day, nor drawing-room day, nor silver day; it's
+Thursday, which is nothing special; she can come, may she, Hilda?&mdash;do
+say yes."</p>
+
+<p>"It's not like you, Judy," said Hilda, "to be in this impatient state. I
+would rather you did not propose plans to the servants without first
+consulting me, darling, it rather puts them out of their place; but as
+you have done it, and as you are the best of dear little girls, I
+suppose I must say 'yes' on this occasion. If Susan hurries with her
+work, she may take you out: but of course you won't be very long, will
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>To this question Judy made no reply. She gave Hilda a tight clasp and a
+fierce kiss, and rushed away.</p>
+
+<p>"Susan, you're to hurry with your work, for you may come," she shouted,
+almost boisterously, to the parlor-maid, and then she ran down to the
+dining room and shut the door behind her.</p>
+
+<p>"It's happening beautifully," she murmured again; "how lucky that I
+never spent godmother's sovereign. And now to write my letter to Hilda.
+I'm not going to waste my time crying, there'll be time enough for that
+by and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>by&mdash;that's if I want to cry, perhaps I shan't. When I think of
+how very happy Hilda will be, perhaps my heart will sing. But now for
+the letter&mdash;Hilda mustn't find it too soon; I'll put it under her
+pin-cushion, then perhaps she won't see it for some hours after I've
+gone, but now I must write it."</p>
+
+<p>Judy took out her own little blotting-book, placed a sheet of paper
+before her, and began laboriously, with little fingers which rapidly got
+ink-stained, to put a few words on the paper.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="noi">
+"<span class="smcap">Darling Hilda</span>,
+</p>
+
+<p>"You'll be s'prised when you get this. I'm going home. I'm quite
+well now, and I'm not going to fret, but I'm going to be
+<em>really</em> happy. Good-by, Hilda; I love you awfully.</p>
+
+<p class="right">"Your</p>
+<p class="right2 smcap">"Judy."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>This little note was put into an envelope, and sealed with some precious
+red wax, and before she left the house Judy found an opportunity to put
+it under Hilda's pin-cushion.</p>
+
+<p>"It doesn't tell her a bit what I think, nor what I feel," murmured the
+poor child. "But it's best for her just to suppose that I <em>want</em> to go
+home. She'll be happy all the sooner if she thinks that."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>Susan was rather elated at escaping housework, and at being allowed to
+go out so early in the morning. She was especially fond of Judy, and
+would do anything in the world for her. Now, therefore, principally on
+Judy's account, but also in the hope that the baker might happen to see
+her as she passed his shop, she put on her very smartest hat and her
+very best jacket, and patiently waited in the front hall for Judy's
+appearance.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda came out of the drawing room to see the two as they went off.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better take an omnibus, and get out at Kensington Gardens," she
+said to the maid. "I shall expect you back in time to get lunch ready,
+Susan. Judy pet, give me a kiss before you go."</p>
+
+<p>Judy had lost her roses now, her face was pale, and there were dark
+shadows under her big eyes. Her little voice, however, had a very stout,
+determined tone about it.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by, Hilda," she said; "one kiss&mdash;two, three kisses, Hilda; it is
+good of you to let us out,&mdash;and we are going to be so jolly. Good-by,
+darling Hilda."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by, Judy," said Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>She kissed the child, but in a pre-occupied manner&mdash;the cloud which
+weighed on her heart <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>was oppressing her, and dulling her usually keen
+perceptions where Judy was concerned.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all the better," thought the little girl, "it's easier to say
+good-by when she's not extra loving."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda went back to her accounts, and Judy and Susan walked down the
+terrace, and turning the corner were lost to view.</p>
+
+<p>They had gone on a little way, and Susan was about to hail a passing
+omnibus, when Judy suddenly put her hand on the servant's arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Susan," she said, "I am going to tell you the secret now. You'll be
+<em>sure</em> to keep it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, of course, miss, I'll do my best&mdash;I hope I aint one of the
+blabbing sort."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you are, Susan&mdash;you look as if a person could trust you.
+I'm going to trust you with a most important thing."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, miss&mdash;I'll be proud I'm sure; but hadn't we better stop that
+'bus&mdash;there's the conductor looking at us."</p>
+
+<p>"Does that 'bus go in the direction of Waterloo Station?" asked Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"Waterloo&mdash;bless you, Miss Judy&mdash;I don't know whether it do or not. I
+don't s'pose so for a quarter of a minute. Waterloo is miles from
+here&mdash;that I do know. But it's nothing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>to us where Waterloo is, miss,
+it's to Kensington Gardens we're going, and the 'bus has gone on now, so
+there's no good our worrying ourselves about it. Another will pass us in
+a minute. There are plenty half empty at this hour of the day."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you would stop talking, Susan, and let me explain what I mean,"
+said Judy, almost fretfully. "It's to Waterloo I want to go, not to
+Kensington Gardens. Do you hear me&mdash;do you understand what I'm saying?"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you're joking me, Miss Judy. My missis said we were to go to
+Kensington Gardens."</p>
+
+<p>"Please, Susan, stop for a minute. I want to say something very
+important. <em>I am going home.</em> That's the secret. I am going home to Aunt
+Marjorie and to father, and my little sister Babs, and the way home is
+by Waterloo, so I must get there. Now do you understand? That's the
+secret&mdash;I am going home to-day."</p>
+
+<p>Judy's face was so pale, and her words so intensely earnest, that Susan
+saw at last that the secret was no joking matter, but something real and
+hard to bear.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I wonder what the little dear is up to," she said under her breath.</p>
+
+<p>"You know, Miss Judy, pet," she replied <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>aloud in as soothing a voice as
+she could command, "that you don't really mean to run away like
+that,&mdash;for it is running away to go back to your home, and never say a
+word to Mrs. Quentyns, and she so wrapped up in you, and your room
+furnished so prettily and all."</p>
+
+<p>Judy had to gulp down a sob before she answered Susan.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't expect you to understand me," she said with a dignity which
+made a deep impression on the maid. "I'm not running away, and I'm doing
+right not wrong. You don't suppose it's always very pleasant to do
+right, but sometimes one can't think about what's pleasant. I wouldn't
+have asked you to help me at all, Susan, but I don't know how to get to
+Waterloo Station. Of course I came from there with my sister, but I
+didn't notice the road we took, nor anything about it. I know we were a
+long time in a cab, so I suppose the station is a good way from Philippa
+Terrace. What you have got to do now, Susan, is to obey me, and not to
+ask any questions. I really know what I'm about, and I promise that you
+shan't get into any trouble."</p>
+
+<p>But to Judy's surprise Susan was firm.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't have hand nor part in the matter," she said; "I was told to
+take you to Kensington <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>Gardens, miss, and it's there we've got to go,
+or we'll turn round and go back to Philippa Terrace."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment or two Judy felt afraid that all her plans were in
+jeopardy. She might of course call a cab on her own account, and trust
+the driver to take her safely to her destination; but brave as she was,
+she had scarcely courage for this extreme step; besides, the driver of
+the hansom might take it into his head to listen to Susan's strong
+objections, and even if he did obey Judy, Susan would go back to
+Philippa Terrace, and tell Hilda everything, and then Hilda would follow
+Judy to Waterloo, and prevent her going home at all.</p>
+
+<p>The strongest feeling in the child's mind was a desire to be safe back
+in the Rectory before Hilda knew anything about her determination.</p>
+
+<p>"Then she can't do anything," thought Judy. "She'll have nothing for it
+but to make herself quite happy with Jasper again."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly an idea came to her.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't argue with you any more, Susan," she said. "I suppose you
+<em>think</em> you are doing right, and if you do, of course I can't expect you
+to act in any other way. If you knew everything that is in my heart, I
+am quite sure you <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>would help me; but as you don't, I must think of
+something else. You know Mr. Rivers, don't you&mdash;the gentleman who dined
+at Philippa Terrace two nights ago?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"My sister and I took lunch with him yesterday," continued Judy. "He is
+a very nice gentleman; he's a great friend of Mr. Quentyns."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, miss, I'm aware," replied the maid.</p>
+
+<p>"He lives in chambers," continued Judy. "I don't in the least know what
+chambers means; but he asked me to go and see him some day and have
+lunch with him. He wrote his address on a piece of paper and gave it to
+me, and I have it in my purse. My sister said I might certainly lunch
+with Mr. Rivers. Now, Susan, I intend to go to him to-day. So please
+call a hansom, and I shall drive there at once. You can come or not as
+you please. If you prefer it you can go home; but of course I'd rather
+you came with me."</p>
+
+<p>Susan deliberated. Certainly Miss Judy was in a very queer condition,
+and it would be as much as her place was worth to take her to Waterloo;
+but to drive with her to the chambers of that nice gentleman who was,
+she knew, one of her master's greatest friends, seemed a shifting <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>of
+responsibility which was quite a way out of the dilemma, for not for
+worlds would Susan do anything really to hurt the child's feelings.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, miss," she said after a pause; "even that seems queer
+enough, but Mr. Rivers can explain matters himself to my missis. Here's
+a nice 'ansom with a steady horse. Stop, driver, please, stop! Draw up
+here by the lamp-post. Now, miss, shall I get in first and give you a
+hand?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Susan; I can get into a hansom without anyone helping me."</p>
+
+<p>"Drive to No. 10 Johnson's Court, Lincoln's Inn Fields," said Judy, in a
+clear voice to the man; and then she and Susan found themselves bowling
+away farther and farther from West Kensington, from Judy's pretty
+bedroom, from Hilda and her love.</p>
+
+<p>In an incredibly short space of time they arrived at their destination;
+the driver pulled up his horse at No. 10 Johnson's Court, with an
+<em>esprit</em> which Judy would have much admired had her thoughts been less
+pre-occupied.</p>
+
+<p>She jumped out with alacrity, declining Susan's assistance, and asked
+the man what his fare was. He named a sum which Susan took into her head
+to consider exorbitant, and which she loudly objected to Judy's paying;
+but the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>little girl gave it without a moment's hesitation, and the next
+instant was running up the stairs to Rivers' chambers.</p>
+
+<p>What might have happened had that gentleman been out no one can say;
+Judy's heroic impulse might after all have come to nothing, and Jasper
+might still have had to complain of that three, which means trumpery,
+invading his house; but it so happened that Rivers was in, and, busy man
+that he was, comparatively disengaged. When Judy inquired for him he was
+standing in his clerk's room, giving some directions. At the sound of
+her voice he looked up, and with a start and smile of delight came
+forward to welcome her.</p>
+
+<p>"I am very glad to see you," he said; "how kind of you to remember your
+promise."</p>
+
+<p>Then, seeing by her face that Judy's poor little heart was very full, he
+took her into his private room, and desired Susan to wait in the clerk's
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Jack the Giant Killer, what is it?" said Rivers; "what's the
+matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"I told you," said Judy; "I told you yesterday, that <em>perhaps</em> I was
+going to stop being a mutineer. Well, I have stopped. I thought you'd
+like to know."</p>
+
+<p>"So I do, Judy," said Rivers. "I am proud <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>to be acquainted with a
+little girl who has such immense control over herself. I should like to
+hear how you have contrived to get out of the state of rebellion into
+the state of submission. I know of course that you have been killing a
+giant, but I am interested in the process."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm killing the giant by going home," said Judy, standing very erect by
+Rivers' table, and pushing back her shady hat from her white forehead.
+"I am going home, back to Little Staunton Rectory. I see what you mean,
+that it's better&mdash;better for Jasper and Hilda, to be without&mdash;without
+<em>me</em>. I pretended not to understand you the other night, but I don't
+pretend any longer now; and yesterday evening, when Hilda and I were all
+alone, for Jasper had gone away down to Richmond, I&mdash;I made up my mind.
+Hilda doesn't know anything about it."</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down, Judy," said Rivers. "I cannot tell you how I respect you."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;">
+<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="422" height="600" alt="&quot;I&#39;D RATHER STAND, PLEASE.&quot; P. 222." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;i&#39;d rather stand, please.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I'd rather stand, please," said Judy. "Hilda doesn't know," she
+continued, "and she <em>mustn't</em> know until I am safe back at Little
+Staunton Rectory. Susan&mdash;you know Susan, she's Hilda's parlor-maid;
+well, Susan came out with me this morning, and I coaxed her very hard to
+take me to Waterloo, but she refused. I don't quite <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>know how to get
+there by myself, so now I want to know if you will take me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly I will," said Rivers. "What is more, I'll go with you to the
+Rectory. I have nothing special to do to-day, and it will be quite a
+pleasure to spend a little time in your company. Do you know anything
+about the trains, and what is the name of the station we have to go to?"</p>
+
+<p>Judy named the one nearest to the Rectory.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better sit down for a moment," pursued Rivers. "I have an 'A&nbsp;B&nbsp;C' here, so I can tell you in a moment which is the best train to take.
+Now, what is the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only, Mr. Rivers, Hilda must not know anything&mdash;anything about it until
+I am safe home. Can this be managed?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have very little doubt that it can. I shall go out now and speak to
+Susan and send her away. Thank you, Judy, for coming to me; I would do
+anything for you, because you are brave, and I respect and admire all
+brave people."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>
+<a name="killer" id="killer"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.<br />
+
+<small>GIANT-KILLER.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<p class="noi nb">And the Prince, seeing that it was of no use to remonstrate,
+bowed and retired.</p>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;The Golden Branch.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Susan came home and told her mistress that Judy was spending the day
+with Mr. Rivers.</p>
+
+<p>"What an extraordinary thing for the child to do!" said Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"She said, ma'am, that Mr. Rivers asked her to lunch, and that you knew
+about it."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but why did she not say something to me when she was going out? It
+is so unlike Miss Judy to keep a thing of that sort to herself."</p>
+
+<p>Susan made no reply. She was no longer responsible, and was only too
+anxious not to betray the child.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Rivers says he'll take the best care of her, ma'am," she said,
+after a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, go and take off your hat, Susan, and lay the lunch," said Hilda,
+feeling still more <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>puzzled, but not caring to pursue her inquiries any
+further.</p>
+
+<p>She had a sense of aggrievement and a feeling of added loneliness as she
+sat down to her solitary lunch. She missed Judy, and wondered at her
+sudden want of confidence; but soon the deeper trouble which Jasper's
+conduct had caused returned to trouble her, and she forgot her little
+sister in the sadness of her thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>She spent a long and very lonely afternoon indoors, for she had not the
+heart to go out, and besides, she expected Judy home every minute.</p>
+
+<p>She thought it likely that Rivers would take her somewhere after lunch,
+but surely he would bring her back to Philippa Terrace in time for tea.
+Hilda ordered some cakes which she knew were special favorites of Judy's
+to be ready for this meal; and then she sat in her pretty little drawing
+room, and tried to divert her thoughts over the pages of the latest
+novel which had arrived from Mudie's.</p>
+
+<p>It was either not specially interesting, or Hilda found it difficult to
+concentrate her attention. She flung the book on her knee, and sat
+absorbed in what Judy and Babs called a brown study. She was startled
+out of her meditations by Susan bringing in the tea-tray and the little
+kettle and spirit-lamp.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>"Did Mr. Rivers say when he would bring Miss Judy home?" she asked of
+the maid.</p>
+
+<p>Susan colored and hesitated slightly in her reply.</p>
+
+<p>"No, ma'am; he said nothing at all about coming home," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda noticed her hesitation, but did not wish to question her further.
+After the servant left the room, however, she began for the first time
+to feel both impatient and uneasy with regard to her little sister.</p>
+
+<p>"If Judy is not here by six o'clock," she said to herself, "I will go to
+Lincoln's Inn Fields in search of her. How extraordinarily impatient she
+was to go out this morning; and how very odd of her to insist on going
+to Mr. Rivers', and to say nothing at all to me about it; and then how
+queer&mdash;how more than queer&mdash;her not having yet returned. My sweet little
+Judy, the most thoughtful child who ever breathed&mdash;it is unlike her to
+cause me anxiety of this sort."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda did not care for the social little meal which was generally so
+lively when Judy was present. Immediately afterward she ran upstairs to
+put on her bonnet and jacket; and as she was going out, left a message
+with Susan.</p>
+
+<p>"If Miss Judy and Mr. Rivers come," she said, "please say that I have
+gone to Lincoln's Inn <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>Fields, as I felt anxious about the child being
+so long away."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am," said the servant.</p>
+
+<p>"Whistle for a hansom for me, please, Susan."</p>
+
+<p>Susan did so; and half an hour afterward Hilda was making inquiries at
+Rivers' chambers with regard to his whereabouts. The clerks there could
+give her no definite information. Mr. Rivers had gone out with a little
+lady soon after twelve o'clock, and had told them not to expect him back
+that day.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall find Judy at Philippa Terrace when I go home," thought Mrs.
+Quentyns. "It was thoughtless of her not to tell me how long she would
+be out&mdash;it was wonderfully unlike her. Still, of course, she will be at
+home now."</p>
+
+<p>But when Hilda returned no Judy was there to greet her; but her
+husband's face was seen looking somewhat impatiently out at the
+drawing-room window. He came at once to help his wife out of the cab,
+and entered the house with her.</p>
+
+<p>"Where were you?" he asked. "It is nearly time for dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't be a moment getting dressed, Jasper; but&mdash;but&mdash;I am anxious
+about Judy."</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns had meant to be specially nice and kind to Hilda after his
+evening's pleasure, but <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>he felt it impossible now to keep the glib,
+sarcastic words back.</p>
+
+<p>"I might have known when I saw that fretful look on your face, that Judy
+was the cause. Now, what is her latest transgression?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there is a telegraph-boy," said Hilda eagerly. "What&mdash;what&mdash;oh,
+<em>is</em> there anything wrong?"</p>
+
+<p>She rushed to the hall-door herself, before Jasper could prevent her.
+Susan, coming into the hall to answer the imperative double knock, was
+sent back to the kitchen regions, in a cross voice, by her master.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Hilda," began Quentyns, "your impetuosity is most undignified.
+I must say that these kinds of scenes are&mdash;&mdash;Now, what is the matter,
+my love&mdash;tears again. A coming home of this sort is not the most
+cheerful sort of thing, you must allow."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jasper, Jasper, I'm not even listening to you," said poor Hilda.
+"What can be the matter? what can be wrong? Here's a telegram from Mr.
+Rivers. He says&mdash;see what he says.</p>
+
+<p>"'Little Staunton Rectory. Have brought Judy home. Will call and see you
+soon after ten this evening. Rivers.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Rivers!" repeated Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>His voice grew thoughtful; he did not like <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>Rivers, of all men, to be
+mixed up in his domestic affairs. Rivers, at least, must keep him on a
+pedestal, and know nothing of his weaknesses&mdash;of that infirmity of
+temper which he struggled against, and yet, in Judy's presence, could
+not conquer. He forgot all about Judy herself in his wonder as to how
+Rivers had got mixed up in the matter.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda had seated herself on the sofa, and still holding the open
+telegram in her hand, was trying furtively to wipe away her fast-falling
+tears.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you'd stop crying, Hilda," said her husband. "There's nothing to
+alarm you in this telegram&mdash;nothing whatever. If Judy is with a man like
+Tom Rivers, she's as safe as child can be."</p>
+
+<p>"But she has gone home, Jasper; she has gone home to the Rectory,
+without even telling me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my dear, it's impossible for me to explain away the vagaries of
+that most eccentric child. I presume, however, that Rivers has a key to
+the mystery, and as he says he will call here after ten o'clock, we
+shall know all about it then. No amount of discussion can explain it in
+advance. So, Hilda, perhaps you will go upstairs and get ready for
+dinner. I'm frightfully hungry."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
+Hilda rose wearily and left the room at once.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I can guess something&mdash;just something of what it means," she
+said to herself. "My little Judy&mdash;my brave little Judy!"</p>
+
+<p>Judy's letter was lying hidden all this time under the large pin-cushion
+on Hilda's dressing table, but as it was not seen, its contents, which
+would have explained a good deal, were of course not known.</p>
+
+<p>The dinner which followed this unhappy beginning of the evening was as
+dismal and constrained as if poor "trumpery" were still present.</p>
+
+<p>Quentyns, like most men who work hard all day, was particular about this
+meal, and to-night of all nights cook had not sent up the soup to his
+satisfaction, nor the <em>entr&eacute;e</em> seasoned to his taste. It was all one to
+Hilda just now what she ate, but Quentyns pushed his plate impatiently
+away, and kept on referring to the excellent dinner he had had the night
+before at the Star and Garter. He spoke of his evening as delightful,
+and of the house of the new friend where he had slept as altogether
+irreproachable.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda felt that he was talking at her all the time, but she had not the
+heart to reply to him. The dismal little meal came to a mournful end,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>and the two went into the drawing room to wait for Rivers' arrival.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda took up a handkerchief she was embroidering for Judy, and took
+special pleasure in putting in new and exquisite stitches as her
+thoughts centered themselves in dull wonder and pain round the child.
+Quentyns became absorbed in the contents of a novel. He read for half an
+hour&mdash;he was by no means in a good humor, and now and then his eyes were
+raised to look over the top of the book at his wife. There was a patient
+sort of suffering about her which irritated him a good bit, as he could
+see no possible reason to account for it. He asked her one or two
+questions, which she answered in an abstracted manner.</p>
+
+<p>No, he certainly had not bargained for this sort of thing when he
+married. Hilda was not only pretty, but she could be, when she liked,
+sufficiently intellectual to satisfy his requirements. He was fastidious
+and had peculiar views with regard to women. He hated the so-called
+clever women, but at the same time he despised the stupid ones. To
+please him a woman must have tact&mdash;she must quickly understand his many
+moods. She must sympathize when he demanded sympathy, and when he showed
+by his manner that he wished to be left <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>alone, she must respect his
+desires. Hitherto, Hilda had abundantly fulfilled his expectations. If
+Judy had not been in the house, all that he had ever dreamed of in his
+married life would have come to pass. But to-night, although Judy was
+not there to intermeddle, Quentyns felt that, for all the good his wife
+was doing him, he might as well be a bachelor at his club.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," he said with some impatience, and forgetting himself not a
+little, "do you know that you have made precisely the same remark now
+five times? I did not quarrel with its brilliancy the first time I heard
+it, but on the fifth occasion I will own that it gave me a certain sense
+of <em>ennui</em>. As I see that your thoughts are miles away, I'll just run
+round to the club for a bit and find out if there is anything going on."</p>
+
+<p>Hilda raised her eyes in some surprise. A certain expression in them
+seemed to expostulate with Jasper, but her lips said nothing; and just
+at that moment a hansom was heard to bowl up rapidly and stop with a
+quick jerk at the door. A moment later Rivers entered the drawing room.
+He came up at once to Hilda with the air of a man who has a message to
+deliver.</p>
+
+<p>"Judy hopes you got her note long ere this, Mrs. Quentyns."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>"Her note&mdash;no; I have not received any," replied Hilda.</p>
+
+<p>"She wrote to you this morning, and put the note under the pin-cushion
+in your room."</p>
+
+<p>"How romantic and Judy-like!" said Quentyns suddenly. "Quite the correct
+thing, according to the old-fashioned novels. When the heroine elopes
+she always leaves a note under the pin-cushion."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you do, Jasper? I did not notice you until this moment," said
+Rivers. He gave the other man a sharp glance, which suddenly made him
+feel queer and small. "The only thing old-fashioned that I notice about
+Judy," he said, "is her noble unselfishness. She has gone home
+because&mdash;because&mdash;I think you can both guess why; an explanation would
+only be disagreeable. She begged me to tell you, Mrs. Quentyns, that she
+meant to be really <em>perfectly</em> happy at home, and she hoped you and
+Jasper would follow her example here. Poor little Giant Killer! she slew
+an enormous giant to-day, and there are few people I respect as I do
+that dear little soul. I saw her safely to the Rectory, as, when she
+came to me, I thought it best to humor what was more a noble inspiration
+than a child's whim. I will say good-night now."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>Hilda scarcely said a word while Rivers was speaking. When he left the
+room, however, she stood still for an instant, listening intently.
+Jasper had gone out to see his friend into his hansom. Would he come
+back? He did for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't sit up for me, Hilda," he said; and there was a tone in his voice
+which caused her heart to sink down low, very low indeed.</p>
+
+<p>She heard the door slam behind him, and then she knew that she was
+alone. The servants had gone to bed&mdash;to all intents and purposes she was
+absolutely alone in the silent house.</p>
+
+<p>So Judy's sacrifice was in vain. Judy had thought, by absolutely
+sacrificing herself, that she could bring this husband and wife
+together. It was not to be.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda fell on her knees and buried her burning face in the sofa
+cushions.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Judy, little Judy!" she sobbed. "Oh, Judy, what shall I do? My pain
+is greater than I can bear."</p>
+
+<p>She knelt in this position for a long time. Her little sister's face was
+distinctly seen in her mental vision; Judy seemed surrounded by a sort
+of halo&mdash;but what of Jasper? Had all the love which united these two
+hearts vanished like a dream? Was he never coming back to her? <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>Would he
+always misunderstand her? Oh, if she thought that, she would not stay
+with him&mdash;she would go back to the Rectory and to Judy, and forget her
+golden dream and turn back again to the old life. For three months she
+would have been a wife. She would forget that time. She would own to
+Jasper that she had made a mistake. She would be Hilda Merton once more.
+Alas! alas! that could not be. Vows and ceremonies tied her. She had
+stood beside the altar and given herself away. There was no going back
+on that step. Jasper was not the Jasper of her dreams. He must have a
+small mind not to understand Judy, and she had married him because she
+thought his mind so big and his heart so great. After all, Judy was far
+greater than Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>"My little Judy," she murmured again, and then she sank down a pitiable,
+weak, inconsolable figure on the hearth-rug close to the expiring fire.
+She thought over the scenes of the last night and longed to have them
+back again.</p>
+
+<p>"If Judy's arms were round me, I should not feel so lonely," she
+murmured. "Oh, Jasper, how can you turn from me? How can you fail to
+understand that my heart at least is big enough to love both Judy and
+you?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>The lamp burnt dimly and the fire went completely out. Hilda presently
+fell asleep in the darkness, and now a moonbeam shining into the drawing
+room and falling across her tired face made it look white and unearthly,
+almost like the face of a dead girl. It was in this attitude that
+Quentyns found her when he came back somewhere between one and two
+o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>His conscience was reproaching him, for Rivers, an old friend, had not
+failed to give him a little spice of his mind; but he was just in that
+irritable condition where repentance is almost impossible, and when
+self-abasement only leads a man into further wrong-doing.</p>
+
+<p>When he saw Hilda's tired face, he said to himself with a sort of laugh:</p>
+
+<p>"If I don't encourage this sort of thing, I shall doubtless be more and
+more of a tyrant in the eyes of my good wife and that precious
+fastidious child and Rivers. Well, well, I cannot see the beauty of
+voluntary martyrdom. If Hilda weren't quite such a goose, she would have
+gone to bed two hours ago, instead of falling asleep here to the utter
+disregard of her health and personal appearance."</p>
+
+<p>So Quentyns, looking cross and uninterested, shook his wife not too
+gently; spoke in a commonplace tone, out of which he purposely excluded
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>every scrap of emotion, and asked her how much longer she wanted to sit
+up.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda stumbled to her feet without a word. She went upstairs and to bed,
+but although her husband quickly slept, she lay awake until the morning.</p>
+
+<p>She came down to breakfast, looking tired and fagged. There were black
+lines under her eyes, and when Quentyns asked her what was the matter,
+she not only owned to a headache, but burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>When a man is thoroughly cross, nothing irritates him more than tears on
+the part of his wife, and Quentyns now so far forgot himself as to rise
+hastily from the breakfast table and leave the room, slamming the door
+behind him. He put in his head a moment later to nod to his wife and say
+good-by.</p>
+
+<p>"If I'm late, don't wait dinner for me," he said, and then he left the
+house. Hilda had plenty of time to wipe her tears away in the deserted
+breakfast room. The pain at her heart was almost greater than she could
+bear. Her gentle nature was stirred by what she considered gross
+injustice on the part of her husband.</p>
+
+<p>"He does not care for me any more," she muttered. "I thought him great
+and brave and good. I know he is clever; I suppose he is <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>great, and
+perhaps even good; but I am too small and too little for him&mdash;I fail to
+understand him, and he does not love me any more. Oh, <a name="tnote" id="tnote"></a>if only little
+Judy had stayed with me I should not feel as broken-hearted as I do at
+present. if only little Judy had stayed with me, I should loneliness of
+my life?"</p>
+
+<p>At this moment Hilda's dismal meditations were interrupted by the sound
+of carriage wheels, which not only came rattling down the little street,
+but stopped at the hall door. She started up in a fright, pushed back
+her disordered hair from her flushed face, and the next moment found
+herself in the voluminous embrace of Jasper's aunt, Lady Malvern.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," exclaimed that good lady, "I must apologize for not looking
+you up sooner, but I have been particularly busy; for Cynthia, my eldest
+girl, has just got engaged and we are to have a wedding in the autumn
+and all kinds of fuss; but I have not forgotten you, Hilda, and I have
+just come to carry you off for the day. It is a lovely day, and we are
+all going to drive to Richmond to picnic in the park. Run upstairs, my
+love, and put on your hat and gloves. I mean to carry you off
+immediately."</p>
+
+<p>"But Jasper has just gone to town&mdash;he will be so sorry to have missed
+you," said Hilda.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>"Well, I suppose I can endure life even though I have missed Jasper,"
+said Lady Malvern with a laugh. "In any case I want you, and so does
+Cynthia. Cynthia has taken a great fancy to you, Hilda; so run away and
+get ready. I will send a wire to your husband to come down and join us
+later on. There now, will that content you, you poor, devoted little
+soul?"</p>
+
+<p>Hilda smiled and a faint color came into her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Run up to your room, my dear," said good-natured Lady Malvern. "Be as
+quick as ever you can getting into the prettiest costume you have, for
+we are to be quite a gay party, I can tell you. Now run off, dear, run
+off, and pray don't keep me waiting a moment longer than you can help."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Malvern was the sort of person who never could bear anyone to say
+"no" to her, and Hilda at first unwillingly, but presently with a sort
+of elation and even defiance which was altogether foreign to her gentle
+nature, prepared to make herself smart for her unexpected gayety. She
+went upstairs, pulled out one of her prettiest trousseau dresses, and,
+with hands that trembled, began to array herself in it.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Lady Malvern sat perfectly still in the tiny little dining
+room, with a somewhat <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>troubled look on her good-tempered face.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, what has Jasper been doing?" she said to herself. "That sweet
+child doesn't look happy. Marks of tears round her eyes, flushed
+cheeks&mdash;very low spirits. Dear, dear! this will never do. Not more than
+three months from the wedding-day."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Malvern had seen very little of her nephew since his marriage. She
+knew nothing, therefore, about Judy; but she was just that fussy,
+good-natured, hearty sort of body who could not bear anyone with whom
+she came in contact to be miserable.</p>
+
+<p>"I must set this right somehow or other," she said to herself. "Jasper
+doesn't understand Hilda, and Hilda is wretched, and thinks, poor dear
+little goose, that the sun will never shine again, and that life is
+practically over for her. She does not know, how could she, poor
+darling, how many rubs married people have to live through, and how
+jolly and comfortable they are notwithstanding them. Well, well, I am
+glad I called. I must set things right between this pair, whatever
+happens."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Malvern little guessed, however, that she personally was to have
+very little to do with smoothing the rumpled rose-leaves in Hilda's and
+Jasper's lives.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>When Mrs. Quentyns returned to the little dining room the flush on her
+cheeks and the softened look in her sweet eyes but added to her beauty,
+and when she found herself bowling away through the pleasant spring air
+in her kind friend's company, in spite of herself, her spirits could not
+help rising.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Malvern had a house in Hans Place, and there Cynthia and two
+younger girls were waiting for them.</p>
+
+<p>The day was a perfect one, very warm and summery for the time of year,
+and the young people all agreed that it was by no means too early in the
+season to enjoy themselves even in this <em>al fresco</em> fashion.</p>
+
+<p>They were to end with tea at the "Star and Garter," and they all started
+off now for this day's pleasure in the highest spirits.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda was quite young enough to enjoy such a proceeding immensely. As
+space divided her from her little home in Philippa Terrace her spirits
+rose, and now, if Judy had only been by her side, she would have felt
+perfectly happy.</p>
+
+<p>By the time they reached Richmond Park all trace of tears and sorrow had
+left her charming face, and she was one of the brightest and gayest of
+the company.</p>
+
+<p>No one could make herself more useful than <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>Hilda, and when her husband
+appeared on the scene, he was a good deal astonished to see her flying
+lightly about, ordering and directing the arrangements of the picnic
+dinner. Her gay laughter floated to his ears on the summer breeze, her
+cheeks were bright, her eyes shining. In short, she looked like that
+charming Hilda who had won his heart in the old Rectory garden not a
+year ago.</p>
+
+<p>Hilda was busily helping to concoct a salmon mayonnaise, when, raising
+her eyes, she met her husband's gaze. He smiled back at her a look of
+approval and love, and her heart rose considerably.</p>
+
+<p>There were other people present besides Jasper who thought Mrs. Quentyns
+a very beautiful young woman. There were others waiting to show her the
+most polite and gracious attentions, and these facts considerably
+enhanced her value in her husband's eyes. In short, he began to fall in
+love with his wife over again, and Judy for the time being was forgotten
+by this pair.</p>
+
+<p>The day passed all too quickly, and at last the moment arrived when the
+little party must turn their steps homeward.</p>
+
+<p>"You must both come home and have supper with us," said Lady Malvern to
+her nephew <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>and his wife. "Oh, yes, I shall take no denial; and now,
+Jasper, will you drive Cynthia and her sister back to town? I mean Hilda
+to accompany me."</p>
+
+<p>Jasper was all smiles and good-humor. He was willing to accede to any
+arrangement which could add to the pleasures of the day, and Hilda, in
+whose heart a faint hope had lingered that she and her husband might
+have gone home together, followed Lady Malvern to her carriage with a
+little sigh. The whole party was soon driving home. Lady Malvern and
+Hilda had a small victoria to themselves. As soon as ever they left the
+rest of the party, the older woman turned and gave a full glance at the
+girl by her side.</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda," she said suddenly, "you look better than you did this morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I feel better," she replied. "You have done me lots of good," she
+continued, raising her eyes with an affectionate light in them to Lady
+Malvern's kind face.</p>
+
+<p>"I am delighted to have helped you, my love," replied the elder lady;
+"and now, Hilda, I want to say something. You have been married very
+little over three months. It is a very common illusion with girls to
+imagine that married life is a time of perpetual bliss."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>Hilda opened her lips to say something, but Lady Malvern interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear," she said, "you must hear me out. Married life is not a bed of
+roses, and the first year which a young couple spend together is
+generally the hardest of all."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Quentyns. "Why the first year?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, my dear, the glamour is gradually being removed. The girl is
+finding that the hero whom she married is a right good fellow, but still
+that he is human; that he has his faults and his aggravations; that he
+needs to be humored and consulted and petted, and to have his
+smallnesses&mdash;yes, my dear, mark the word, his smallnesses&mdash;attended to.
+The husband is making similar discoveries with regard to the lovely
+angel whom he took to his arms. She, too, is mortal&mdash;affectionate, of
+course, and sweet and womanly, and ten thousand times better than a real
+angel would be to him, but still with her faults, her tempers, and her
+fads. The young couple discover these things in each other during the
+first two or three months of married life. All their future happiness
+depends on how they both act, under the influence of these discoveries.
+They have got to learn that, though they are made one by the priest,
+they are both of them <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>distinct individualities. If they are to be happy
+together, they must both give and take. I know a married couple who are
+now the happiest, prosiest, most attached old pair in the world, who
+went through no end of storms during their first eventful year. But they
+learned a lesson and profited by it. The wife does not now think her
+husband the greatest hero that ever set foot on this earth, and the
+husband does not call his wife an angel; but I think, if their love were
+analyzed, it would be found greater, deeper, and more tender than that
+early glamour which was love, but was not equal to the love tried by
+fire which comes later in life. Now, my dear, you will forgive my little
+lecture. If you had need of it, ponder my words; if not, forgive an old
+woman for worrying you. Hilda, what a sweet, pretty little house you
+have! I always knew that my nephew Jasper had good taste. I am so truly
+glad that you have the same."</p>
+
+<p>While Lady Malvern was speaking, Hilda pulled down her veil, and
+struggled hard to keep the tears from her brown eyes. She could not
+quite manage this, however, and Lady Malvern, giving her a half-glance,
+saw that her eyelashes were wet.</p>
+
+<p>She did not add any more in words, but she <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>made up her mind to help the
+young girl by every means in her power.</p>
+
+<p>They drove on rapidly. The horses were fresh, and they were getting over
+the ground with great rapidity, when a quickly approaching train
+startled one of the horses. At the same time a man on a bicycle darted
+round the corner, and before he could help himself, knocked against the
+carriage. The double shock was enough for the affrighted horses. They
+plunged, reared, and became unmanageable, and the next moment the little
+victoria was overturned, and Lady Malvern and Mrs. Quentyns were flung
+with some violence on the pavement. Lady Malvern was not severely hurt,
+and she sprang almost immediately to her feet, but the fright and fall
+had stunned Hilda, who lay white and still on the ground without any
+attempt at movement. The usual crowd of course collected, and it was on
+this scene that Quentyns, in high good-humor, and forgetting for the
+time being that there was a crumpled rose-leaf in the world, suddenly
+came with some more of the picnic party. As a matter of course, they all
+drew up. Quentyns was driving a high dog-cart. He sprang to the ground
+and ran into the midst of the crowd. Then for the first time he realized
+what had happened. His young wife, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>looking as if she were dead, was
+lying in Lady Malvern's arms. Lady Malvern was seated on a doorstep.
+Some men were hastily coming forward with a shutter.</p>
+
+<p>"My God!" exclaimed Quentyns; "is she dead?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my dear boy, no&mdash;only stunned," said Lady Malvern. "Here, take her
+into your own arms, Jasper. You are stronger than I. Let her see your
+face first when she opens her eyes. No medicine will be so reviving as
+that."</p>
+
+<p>Here a woman came up and spoke to Lady Malvern.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be only too pleased to have the young lady brought into my
+house, madam," she said. "A very good doctor lives just round the
+corner, and he can be summoned at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes; send for him immediately," said Quentyns.</p>
+
+<p>He strode into the house with his light burden. Hilda was laid upon a
+sofa, and in a few moments the doctor arrived. He felt her all over and
+said that no bones were broken, and that no severe injury of any kind
+had occurred, but both fall and shock had been very severe. He counseled
+her being left undisturbed in her present condition until the morning.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>"Then I will go home," said Lady Malvern. "You will look after her
+yourself, Jasper?"</p>
+
+<p>"Need you ask?" he replied. He followed his aunt to the door as he
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Hilda had a narrow escape of her life," said Lady Malvern, looking full
+at her nephew as she spoke. "How sudden and awful it all was! There were
+we chatting together, and thinking no more of danger than if such a
+thing did not exist, when all in an instant came that awful bolt from
+the blue. I shall never forget the swinging of the carriage and the way
+the horses looked when they plunged and kicked about, or the white
+piteous face of your sweet little Hilda, who would not scream nor show
+any outward sign of terror. I thought it was all over with both of us&mdash;I
+did really, Jasper. I cannot tell you how thankful we ought to be that
+things are no worse."</p>
+
+<p>"You are sure then that Hilda is not in danger?" queried the young man
+in a tremulous voice.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; what did you hear the doctor say, you silly boy? Perhaps the
+best thing that could have happened to Hilda was this accident, dreadful
+as it was for the moment. Perhaps&mdash;well, Jasper, I think you must know
+what I mean."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>"Has Hilda been talking about me?" asked Jasper, a wave of red mounting
+to his brow.</p>
+
+<p>"Talking about you?" replied his aunt, now thoroughly angry; "only in
+the way that Hilda can talk of those whom she loves best on earth.
+Jasper, you are the luckiest man in the world, and if you don't contrive
+to make that sweet child the happiest woman, I for one will have nothing
+to do with you again."</p>
+
+<p>"No fear, no fear, if she loves me in that way," murmured Jasper.</p>
+
+<p>He turned abruptly on his heel and went back to the room where his wife
+lay. He was a very proud, reserved man, and even in moments of the
+deepest agitation would scarcely reveal his real sentiments. But that
+moment, when he had looked at his wife's white face and had thought that
+she was dead, had shaken his whole nature to its very depths. He made a
+discovery then that nothing in all the world was of any real value to
+him compared with Hilda's love.</p>
+
+<p>"I have acted like a brute to her," he murmured. "Rivers was right.
+She's too good for me&mdash;she's fifty times too good for me. My God, how
+white she looks as she lies there! Suppose the doctor is wrong. Why
+doesn't she speak or move? Why do they make so little of this continued
+unconsciousness? I think I'll go <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>for some further advice. Oh, my
+darling, my darling, if you are dead, if your sweet life has been taken,
+I shall never forgive myself&mdash;never!"</p>
+
+<p>But just then there was a faint stir of the heavily fringed lids which
+lay against Hilda's white cheeks. The next moment the sweet brown eyes
+were opened wide, and Hilda looked into her husband's face.</p>
+
+<p>"What has happened?" she asked drowsily. "I don't remember anything.
+Where are we?"</p>
+
+<p>"Together, Hilda," he replied; "together. Does anything else really
+matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, no!" she said, with a catch in her voice.</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>Next day Mrs. Quentyns was so far convalescent as to be able to return
+to the little house in Philippa Terrace. Jasper, of course, accompanied
+her. They had found a good deal to say to each other, between the moment
+when she had opened her eyes the night before and now. Both had some
+things to confess&mdash;both had some words of forgiveness to crave from the
+other. So complete now had been the interchange of soul and of love
+between this pair that it seemed impossible that anything could ever
+separate such warm hearts again.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>"And it has been all Judy's doing," said Jasper as they sat that
+evening in the little drawing room.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" asked his wife.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," he answered, "if Judy had not brought matters to a crisis by
+going away, we might have drifted further and further apart. But now we
+must have her back again, Hilda. She has fulfilled her mission, dear
+little soul, and now she must have her reward."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Hilda, in a firm voice. "Judy shall have her reward, but not
+by coming back. She did right to go. I could never, never have sent her
+away, but she did right to go."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to tell me, Hilda, that you could be perfectly happy to
+live without her?"</p>
+
+<p>"With you," she said, laying her hand on his arm, and looking into his
+face with her sweet eyes shining through tears.</p>
+
+<p>He put his arms round her and kissed her many times.</p>
+
+<p>"Jasper," said Hilda after a few minutes, "I think the first wrong step
+that I took&mdash;the first beginning of that unhappy time&mdash;was when I lost
+my temper down at Little Staunton and gave up my engagement ring."</p>
+
+<p>"No wonder you lost your temper when I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>was such a brute about
+everything," said Quentyns. "It was my fault."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; it was mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you missed the ring, Hilda?"</p>
+
+<p>"Missed it?" she held up her slender finger. "My heart has been empty
+without it," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Then let me put it on again for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you? Is&mdash;isn't it sold?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not. Do you think that I could sell that ring?"</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but the furniture in Judy's room?"</p>
+
+<p>"When I saw that you must have Judy with you, Hilda, I went into debt
+for the furniture. Oh, never mind all that now, my darling&mdash;the debt is
+paid in full a week ago, and I have the receipt in my pocket. Now I am
+going upstairs to fetch the ring."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
+<a name="omens" id="omens"></a>CHAPTER XIX.<br />
+
+<small>GOOD OMENS.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And so the shadows fall apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And so the west winds play;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the windows of my heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I open to the day.<br /></span></div></div>
+<p class="right smcap">&mdash;Whittier.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Mildred Anstruther was paying a visit at the Rectory on the day that
+Rivers and Judy walked in. Rivers was a very striking-looking man, and
+all the Rectory people were so devoured with curiosity about him, and so
+interested in all he said and did&mdash;in his reasons for coming down to
+Little Staunton, and in his remarks about the Quentyns&mdash;that Judy's own
+return to the family circle passed into utter insignificance. She was
+there&mdash;they had none of them expected her, and as she chose to come
+back, she was welcome of course.</p>
+
+<p>It was a lovely day, and the whole party were out in the garden, when
+Rivers and his little charge entered their midst.</p>
+
+<p>Judy wore her green cloak and pretty black shady hat. There was a new
+sort of picturesqueness <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>about her, which Aunt Marjorie noticed in an
+abstracted way; she put it down to "the polish which even a short
+residence in the metropolis always gives;" she had not the faintest idea
+that it was due to the dignity which a noble action can inspire.</p>
+
+<p>Judy greeted everyone quite in her old manner, and was rather glad that
+she was not fussed over, but taken quite as a matter-of-course.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Marjorie was too anxious about the cream for Rivers' tea to give
+serious thoughts to anyone else just then. But when the young man had
+departed to catch the return train to London, then a few questions were
+asked of Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you were going to live with Hilda," said Mildred, looking
+curiously at the child.</p>
+
+<p>Mildred was standing a little apart from the others, and Judy, whose
+face was pale, for the suffering of her self-sacrifice was still causing
+her heart to ache horribly, looked full at her, and said in a low voice:</p>
+
+<p>"That turned out to be a mistake, so I've come home."</p>
+
+<p>"You brave little darling!" said Mildred, understanding everything like
+a flash; she stooped and kissed Judy on her forehead.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>Babs came rushing into the midst of the group.</p>
+
+<p>"Judy, Judy, I want you," she cried.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked Judy.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a butterfly coming out of a chrysalis in the butterfly-case;
+come quick&mdash;he's moving his tail backward and forward&mdash;he'll soon be
+out; come quick and see him."</p>
+
+<p>The dull look left Judy's eyes; they sparkled with a sudden, swift,
+childish joy.</p>
+
+<p>She took Babs' hand, and they rushed away, right round to the back of
+the house where the butterfly-case stood.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's take him out, poor darling," she said; "let's put him on a leaf,
+and watch him as he gets out of his prison."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes grew brighter and brighter; she bent low to watch the
+resurrection which was going on.</p>
+
+<p>After all the chrysalis and the butterfly were emblems. They were good
+omens to Judy that love and hope were not dead.</p>
+
+
+<h3>THE END.</h3>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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+</body>
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@@ -0,0 +1,6759 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Young Mutineer, by Mrs. L. T. Meade
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Young Mutineer
+
+Author: Mrs. L. T. Meade
+
+Release Date: February 13, 2008 [EBook #24599]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A YOUNG MUTINEER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Jacqueline Jeremy and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+    +------------------------------------------------------+
+    |Transcriber's Note:                                   |
+    |                                                      |
+    |The words "if only little Judy had stayed with me, I  |
+    |should", possible repeated instead of the first words |
+    |of the next sentence, have been reproduced as typeset.|
+    +------------------------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+A YOUNG MUTINEER
+
+
+[Illustration: "WAS THE PERSON FICKLE, AND DID HE BREAK HIS PROMISE?"
+_Frontispiece._]
+
+
+    A Young Mutineer
+
+    BY
+
+    MRS. L. T. MEADE
+
+    AUTHOR OF "A GIRL IN TEN THOUSAND," "A RING OF
+    RUBIES," "GIRLS NEW AND OLD," ETC.
+
+    NEW YORK
+    STITT PUBLISHING COMPANY
+    1905
+
+
+    TO
+    MY LITTLE GIRL HOPE
+    THE REAL JUDY
+    October 23, 1893
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+    CHAPTER                                       PAGE
+
+          I. AN OLD-FASHIONED LITTLE PAIR            1
+
+         II. THE PEOPLE WHO GET MARRIED             14
+
+        III. A QUESTION AND AN ANSWER               26
+
+         IV. CHANGES                                36
+
+          V. IN A GARDEN                            52
+
+         VI. THE EVE OF THE WEDDING                 67
+
+        VII. A WEDDING PRESENT                      82
+
+       VIII. HONEYMOON                              91
+
+         IX. STARVED                               101
+
+          X. WAITING                               118
+
+         XI. HUSBAND AND WIFE                      129
+
+        XII. HILDA'S ENGAGEMENT RING               149
+
+       XIII. JUDY'S ROOM                           157
+
+        XIV. THE LITTLE RIFT                       174
+
+         XV. THREE IS TRUMPERY                     186
+
+        XVI. A LITTLE GIRL AND A LITTLE CROSS      195
+
+       XVII. JUDY'S SECRET                         208
+
+      XVIII. GIANT-KILLER                          224
+
+        XIX. GOOD OMENS                            253
+
+
+
+
+A YOUNG MUTINEER.
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+AN OLD-FASHIONED LITTLE PAIR.
+
+    Sun and shower--sun and shower--
+      Now rough, now smooth, is the winding way;
+    Thorn and flower--thorn and flower--
+      Which will you gather? Who can say?
+    Wayward hearts, there's a world for your winning,
+      Sorrow and laughter, love or woe:
+    Who can tell in the day's beginning
+      The paths that your wandering feet shall go?
+
+                    --MARY MACLEOD.
+
+
+The village choir were practicing in the church--their voices, somewhat
+harsh and uncultivated, were sending forth volumes of sound into the
+summer air. The church doors were thrown open, and a young man dressed
+in cricketing-flannels was leaning against the porch. He was tall, and
+square-shouldered, with closely-cropped dark hair, and a keen,
+intelligent face.
+
+When the music became very loud and discordant he moved impatiently, but
+as the human voices ceased and the sweet notes of the voluntary sounded
+in full melody on the little organ, a look of relief swept like a
+soothing hand over his forehead.
+
+The gates of the Rectory were within a stone's throw of the church. Up
+the avenue three people might have been seen advancing. Two were
+children, one an adult. The grown member of this little group was tall
+and slight; she wore spectacles, and although not specially gifted with
+wisdom, possessed a particularly wise appearance. The two little girls,
+who were her pupils, walked somewhat sedately by her side. As they
+passed the church the governess looked neither to right nor left, but
+the eldest girl fixed her keen and somewhat hungry eyes with a
+questioning gaze on the young man who stood in the porch. He nodded back
+to her a glance full of intelligence, which he further emphasized by a
+quick and somewhat audacious wink from his left eye. The little girl
+walked on loftily; she thought that Jasper Quentyns, who was more or
+less a stranger in the neighborhood, had taken a distinct liberty.
+
+"What's the matter, Judy?" asked the smallest of the girls.
+
+"Nothing," replied Judy quickly. She turned to her governess as she
+spoke. "Miss Mills, I was very good at my lessons to-day, wasn't I?"
+
+"Yes, Judy."
+
+"You are not going to forget what you promised me?"
+
+"I am afraid I do forget; what was it?"
+
+"You said if I were really good I might stop at the church on my way
+back and go home with Hilda. I have been good, so I may go home with
+Hilda, may I not?"
+
+"Yes, child, of course, if I promised, but we are only just on our walk
+now. It is a fine autumnal day, and I want to get to the woods to pick
+some bracken and heather, for your Aunt Marjorie has asked me to fill
+all the vases for dinner to-night. There are not half enough flowers in
+the garden, so I must go to the woods, whatever happens. Your sister
+will have left the church when we return, Judy."
+
+"No, she won't," replied Judy. "The practice will be twice as long as
+usual to-day because of the Harvest Festival on Sunday."
+
+"Well, if she is there you can go in and wait for her, as you have been
+a good girl. Now let us talk of something else."
+
+"I have nothing else to talk about," answered Judy, somewhat sulkily.
+
+The bright expression which gave her small eager face its charm, left
+it; she fell back a pace or two, and Miss Mills walked on alone in
+front.
+
+Judy was not popular with her governess. Miss Mills was tired of her
+constant remarks about Hilda. She had a good deal to think of to-day,
+and she was pleased to let her two pupils amuse themselves.
+
+Judy's hungry and unsatisfied eyes softened and grew happy when their
+gaze fell upon Babs. Babs was only six, and she had a power of
+interesting everyone with whom she came in contact. Her wise, fat face,
+somewhat solemn in expression, was the essence of good-humor. Her blue
+eyes were as serene as an unruffled summer pool. She could say heaps of
+old-fashioned, quaint things. She had strong likes and dislikes, but she
+was never known to be cross. She adored Judy, but Judy only liked her,
+for all Judy's passionate love was already disposed of. It centered
+itself round her eldest sister, Hilda.
+
+The day was a late one in September. The air was still very balmy and
+even warm, and Miss Mills soon found herself sufficiently tired to be
+glad to take advantage of a stile which led right through the field into
+the woods to rest herself. She sat comfortably on the top of the stile,
+and looking down the road saw that her little pupils were disporting
+themselves happily; they were not in the slightest danger, and she was
+in no hurry to call them to her side.
+
+"Children are the most fagging creatures in Christendom," she said to
+herself; "for my part I can't understand anyone going into raptures over
+them. For one nice child there are twenty disagreeable ones. I have
+nothing to say against Babs, of course; but Judy, she is about the most
+spoilt creature I ever came across, and of course it is all Hilda's
+fault. I must speak to Mr. Merton, I really must, if this goes on. Hilda
+and Judy ought to be parted, but of course Hilda won't leave home
+unless, unless--ah, I wonder if there is _any_ chance of that. Too good
+news to be true. Too good luck for Mr. Quentyns anyhow. I shouldn't be
+surprised if he is trying to get Hilda all this time, but--he is
+scarcely likely to succeed. Poor Judy! what a blow anything of that kind
+would be to her; but of course there is not the least chance of it."
+
+Miss Mills took off her hat as she spoke, and allowed the summer air to
+play with her somewhat thin fringe and to cool her heated cheeks.
+
+"I hate children," she soliloquized. "I did hope that my time of
+servitude was nearly over, but when men prove so unfaithful!" Here a
+very angry gleam flashed out of her eyes; she put her hand into her
+pocket, and taking out a letter, read it slowly and carefully. Her
+expression was not pleasant while she perused the words on the closely
+written page.
+
+She had just returned the letter to its envelope when a gay voice
+sounded in her ears. A girl was seen walking across the field and
+approaching the stile. She was a fair-haired, pretty girl, dressed in
+the height of the fashion. She had a merry laugh, and a merry voice, and
+two very bright blue eyes.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Mills?" she called to her. "I am going to see
+Hilda. Can you tell me if she is at home?"
+
+"How do you do, Miss Anstruther?" replied Miss Mills; "I did not know
+you had returned."
+
+"Yes, we all came home yesterday. I am longing to see Hilda, I have such
+heaps of things to tell her. Is she at the Rectory?"
+
+"At the present moment she is very busily employed trying to train the
+most unmelodious choir in Great Britain," replied Miss Mills. "The
+Harvest Festival takes place on Sunday, and in consequence she has more
+than usual to do."
+
+"Ah, you need not tell me; I am not going to venture within sound of
+that choir. I shall go down to the Rectory and wait until her duties are
+ended. There is not the least hurry. Good-by, Miss Mills. Are the
+children well?"
+
+"You can see for yourself," replied Miss Mills; "they are coming up the
+road side by side."
+
+"Old-fashioned little pair," replied Miss Anstruther, with a laugh.
+"I'll just run down the road and give them a kiss each, and then go on
+to the Rectory."
+
+Miss Mills did not say anything further. Miss Anstruther mounted the
+stile, called out to the children to announce her approach, kissed them
+when they met, received an earnest gaze from Judy and an indifferent one
+from Babs, and went on her way.
+
+"Do you like her, Judy?" asked Babs, when the pretty girl had left them.
+
+"Oh, yes!" replied Judy in a careless tone; "she is well enough. I don't
+love her, if that's what you mean, Babs."
+
+"Of course it isn't what I mean," replied Babs. "How many rooms have you
+got in your heart, Judy?"
+
+"One big room quite full," replied Judy with emphasis.
+
+"I know--it's full of Hilda."
+
+"It is."
+
+"I have got a good many rooms in my heart," said Babs. "Mr. Love is in
+some of them, and Mr. Like is in others. Have you no room in your heart
+for Mr. Like, Judy?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then poor Miss Mills does not live in your heart at all?"
+
+"No. Oh, dear! what a long walk she's going to take us to-day. If I had
+known that this morning, I wouldn't have taken so much pains over my
+arithmetic. I shan't have a scrap of time with Hilda. It is too bad. I
+am sure Miss Mills does it to worry me. She never can bear us to be
+together."
+
+"Poor Judy!" replied Babs. "I shan't let Miss Mills live in my heart at
+all if she vexes you; but oh, dear; oh, dear! Just look, do look! Do you
+see that monstrous spider over there, the one with the sun shining on
+his web?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Don't you love spiders?"
+
+"Of course. I love all animals. I have a separate heart for animals."
+
+Babs looked intensely interested.
+
+"I love all animals too," she said, "every single one, all kinds--_even_
+pigs. Don't you love pigs, Judy?"
+
+"Of course I do."
+
+"I wonder if Miss Mills does? There she is, reading her letter. She has
+read it twenty times already to-day, so she must know it by heart now.
+Let's run up and ask her if she loves pigs."
+
+Judy quickened her steps, and the two little girls presently reached the
+stile.
+
+"Miss Mills," said Babs, in her clear voice, "we want to know something
+very badly. Do you love pigs?"
+
+"Do I love pigs?" asked Miss Mills with a start. "You ridiculous child,
+what nonsense you are talking!"
+
+"But do you?" repeated Babs. "It is most important for Judy and me to
+know; for we love them, poor things--we think they're awfully nice."
+
+Miss Mills laughed in the kind of manner which always irritated Judy.
+
+"I am sorry not to be able to join your very peculiar hero-worship, my
+dears," she said. "I can't say that I am attached to the pig."
+
+"Then it is very wrong of you," said Judy, her eyes flashing, "when you
+think of all the poor pig does for you."
+
+"Of all the poor pig does for me! What next?"
+
+"You wouldn't be the woman you are but for the pig," said Judy. "Don't
+you eat him every day of your life for breakfast? You wouldn't be as
+strong as you are but for the poor pig, and the least you can do is to
+love him. I don't suppose he likes being killed to oblige you."
+
+Judy's great eyes were flashing, and her little sensitive mouth was
+quivering.
+
+Miss Mills gave her a non-comprehending glance. She could not in the
+least fathom the child's queer passionate nature. Injustice of all sorts
+preyed upon Judy; she could make herself morbid on almost any theme, and
+a gloomy picture now filled her little soul. The animals were giving up
+their lives for the human race, and the human race did not even give
+them affection in return.
+
+"Is that letter very funny?" asked Babs.
+
+"It is not funny, but it is interesting to me."
+
+"Do you love the person who wrote it to you?"
+
+Miss Mills let the sheet of closely-written paper fall upon her lap; her
+eyes gazed into the child's serene and wise little face. Something
+impelled her to say words which she knew could not be understood.
+
+"I hate the person who wrote that letter more than anyone else in all
+the world," she exclaimed.
+
+There was a passionate ring in her thin voice. The emotion which filled
+her voice and shone out of her eyes gave pathos to her commonplace
+face. Babs began to pull a flower to pieces. She had never conjugated
+the verb to hate, and did not know in the least what it meant; but Judy
+looked at her governess with new interest.
+
+"Why do you get letters from the person you hate so much?" she asked.
+
+"Don't ask any more questions," replied Miss Mills. She folded up the
+sheet of paper, slipped it into its envelope, replaced the envelope in
+her pocket, and started to her feet. "Let us continue our walk," she
+said. "We shall reach the woods in five minutes if we are quick."
+
+"But," said Judy, as they went down the path across the field, "I
+_should_ like to know, Miss Mills, why you get letters from a person you
+hate."
+
+"When little girls ask troublesome questions they must not expect them
+to be answered," responded Miss Mills.
+
+Judy was silent. The faint, passing interest she had experienced died
+out of her face, and the rather sulky, unsatisfied expression returned
+to it.
+
+Miss Mills, whose heart was very full of something, spoke again, more to
+herself than to the children.
+
+"If there is one bigger mistake than another," she said, "it is the
+mistake of being fond of any one. Oh, how silly girls are when they get
+engaged to be married!"
+
+"What's that?" asked Babs.
+
+"I know," said Judy, who was again all curiosity and interest. "I'll
+tell you another time about it, Babs. Miss Hicks in the village was
+engaged, and she had a wedding in the summer. I'll tell you all about
+it, Babs, if you ask me when we are going to bed to-night. Please, Miss
+Mills, why is it dreadful to be engaged to be married?"
+
+"Your troubles begin then," said Miss Mills. "Oh, don't talk to me about
+it, children. May you never understand what I am suffering! Oh, the
+fickleness of some people! The promises that are made only to be broken!
+You trust a person, and you are ever so happy; and then you find that
+you have made a great, big mistake, and you are miserable."
+
+"Is that you, Miss Mills? Are you the miserable person?" asked Judy.
+
+"No, no, child! I didn't say it was me. I wasn't talking of anyone in
+particular, and I shouldn't even have said what I did. Forget it,
+Judy--forget it, Babs. Come, let us collect the ferns."
+
+"Suppose we find some white heather," said Babs eagerly.
+
+"And much that's worth, too," replied Miss Mills. "I found a piece last
+summer. I gave----" She sighed, and the corners of her mouth drooped.
+She looked as if she were going to cry.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE PEOPLE WHO GET MARRIED.
+
+    Thou wert mine--all mine!...
+      --Where has summer fled?
+    Sun forgets to shine,
+      Clouds are overhead;
+    Blows a chilling blast,
+      Tells my frightened heart
+    That the hour at last
+      Comes when we must part.
+    Hurrying moments, stay,
+      Leave us yet alone!--
+    All the world grows gray,
+      Love, when thou art flown.
+
+
+Judy's soul swelled within her when she heard the music still sending
+volumes of sound out of the little church. Miss Mills had not spoken all
+the way home. Babs had chattered without a moment's intermission. Her
+conversation had been entirely about birds and beasts and creeping
+things. Judy had replied with rather less interest than usual. She was
+so anxious to hurry home, so fearful of being too late. Now it was all
+right. Hilda was still in the church, and, delightful--more than
+delightful--the discordant notes of the choir had ceased, and only the
+delicious sounds of the organ were borne on the breeze.
+
+"Hilda is in the church," said Judy, pulling her governess by her
+sleeve. "Good-by, Miss Mills; good-by, Babs."
+
+She rushed away, scarcely heeding her governess's voice as it called
+after her to be sure to be back at the Rectory in time for tea.
+
+The church doors were still open, but the young man in the
+cricketing-flannels, who had stood in the porch when Judy had started on
+her walk, was no longer to be seen. The little girl stole into the quiet
+church on tip-toe, crept up to her sister Hilda's side, and lying down
+on the floor, laid her head on her sister's white dress.
+
+Judy's lips kissed the hem of the dress two or three times; then she lay
+quiet, a sweet expression round her lips, a tranquil, satisfied light in
+her eyes. Here she was at rest, her eager, craving heart was full and
+satisfied.
+
+"You dear little monkey!" said Hilda, pausing for a moment in her really
+magnificent rendering of one of Bach's most passionate fugues. She
+touched the child's head lightly with her hand as she spoke.
+
+"Oh, don't stop, Hilda; go on. I am so happy," whispered Judy back.
+
+Hilda smiled, and immediately resumed the music which thrilled through
+and through Judy's soul.
+
+Hilda was eighteen, and the full glory and bloom of this perfect age
+surrounded her; it shone in her dark red-brown hair, and gleamed in her
+brown eyes, and smiled on her lips and even echoed from her sweet voice.
+Hilda would always be lovely to look at, but she had the tender radiance
+of early spring about her now. Judy was not the only person who thought
+her the fairest creature in the world.
+
+While she was playing, and the influence of the music was more and more
+filling her face, there came a shadow across the church door. The shadow
+lengthened and grew longer, and the young man, whose smile Judy had
+ignored, came softly across the church and up to Hilda's side.
+
+"Go on playing," he said, nodding to her. "I have been waiting and
+listening. I can wait and listen a little longer if you will allow me to
+sit in the church."
+
+"I shall have done in a moment," said Hilda. "I just want to choose
+something for the final voluntary." She took up a book of lighter music
+as she spoke, and selecting some of Haydn's sweet and gracious melodies,
+began to play.
+
+Judy stirred restlessly. Jasper Quentyns came closer, so close that his
+shadow fell partly over the child as she lay on the ground, and quite
+shut away the evening sunlight as it streamed over Hilda's figure.
+Jasper was a musician himself, and he made comments which were listened
+to attentively.
+
+Hilda played the notes as he directed her. She brought added volume into
+certain passages, she rendered the light staccato notes with precision.
+
+"Oh, you are spoiling the playing," said Judy suddenly. She started up,
+knitting her black brows and glaring angrily at Jasper Quentyns.
+
+"You don't mean to say you are here all the time, you little puss," he
+exclaimed. "I thought you and Miss Mills and Babs were miles away by
+now. Why, what's the matter, child? Why do you frown at me as if I were
+an ogre?"
+
+Hilda put her arm round Judy's waist. The contact of Hilda's arm was
+like balm to the child; she smiled and held out her hand penitently.
+
+"Of course I don't think you are an ogre," she said, "but I do wish you
+would let Hilda play her music her own way."
+
+"Oh, don't talk nonsense, Judy," said Hilda; "you quite forget that Mr.
+Quentyns knows a great deal more about music than I do."
+
+"He doesn't play half nor quarter as well as you, for all that," replied
+Judy, with emphasis.
+
+Hilda bent forward and kissed her little sister on her forehead.
+
+"We won't have any more music at present," she said, "it is time for us
+to return to the house. You are going to dine at the Rectory this
+evening, are you not, Mr. Quentyns?"
+
+"If you will have me."
+
+"Of course we shall all be delighted to have you."
+
+"Hilda," said Judy, "do you know that Mildred Anstruther is down at the
+house waiting to see you?"
+
+A faint shadow of disappointment flitted across Hilda Merton's face--an
+additional wave of color mounted to Jasper Quentyns' brow. He looked at
+Hilda to see if she had noticed it; Hilda turned from him and began to
+arrange her music.
+
+"Come," she said, "we mustn't keep Mildred waiting."
+
+"What has she come for?" asked Jasper, as the three walked down the
+shady avenue.
+
+"You know you are glad to see her," replied Hilda suddenly.
+
+Something in her tone caused Jasper to laugh and raise his brows in
+mock surprise. Judy looked eagerly from one face to the other. Her heart
+began to beat with fierce dislike to Jasper. What right had he to
+interfere with Hilda's music, and above all things, what right, pray,
+had he to bring that tone, into Hilda's beloved voice?
+
+Judy clasped her sister's arm with a tight pressure. In a few minutes
+they reached the old-fashioned and cozy Rectory.
+
+The Rector was pacing about in the pleasant evening sunshine, and
+Mildred Anstruther was walking by his side and chatting to him.
+
+"Oh, here you are," said Mildred, running up to her friend and greeting
+her with affection; "and you have come too, Mr. Quentyns?--this is a
+delightful surprise."
+
+"You had better run into the house now, Judy," said Hilda. "Yes,
+darling, go at once."
+
+"May I come down after dinner to-night, Hilda?"
+
+"You look rather pale, Judy, and as we are having friends to dinner it
+may be best for you to go to bed early," said another voice. It
+proceeded from the comfortable, good-natured mouth of Aunt Marjorie.
+
+"No, no, Aunt Maggie, you won't send me to bed. Hilda, you'll plead for
+me, won't you?" gasped Judy.
+
+"I think she may come down just for half an hour, auntie," said Hilda,
+smiling.
+
+"Well, child, it must be as you please; of course we all know who spoils
+Judy."
+
+"Of course we all know who loves Judy," said Hilda. "Now are you
+satisfied, my sweet? Run away; be the best of good children. Eat a
+hearty tea; don't think of any trouble. Oh, Judy! what a frown you have
+between your brows; let me kiss it away. I'll find you in the drawing
+room after dinner."
+
+"And you'll come and talk to me if only for one minute. Promise,
+promise, Hilda!"
+
+"Of course I promise; now run off."
+
+Judy went slowly away. She thought the grown people very unkind to
+dismiss her. She was interested in all people who were grown up; she had
+not a great deal of sympathy with children--she felt that she did not
+quite belong to them. The depths of her thoughts, the intense pathos of
+her unsatisfied affections were incomprehensible to most children. Hilda
+understood her perfectly, and even Aunt Marjorie and her father were
+more agreeable companions than Miss Mills and Babs.
+
+There was no help for it, however. Judy was a schoolroom child, and
+back to the schoolroom and to Miss Mills' dull society she must go.
+Swinging her hat on her arm she walked slowly down the long, cool stone
+passage which led from the principal hall to the schoolroom regions. A
+maidservant of the name of Susan hurried past her with the tray which
+contained the schoolroom tea in her hands.
+
+"You must be quick, Miss Judy, I am bringing in the tea," she said.
+
+Judy frowned. She did not think it at all necessary for Susan to remind
+her of her rather disagreeable duties. Instead of hurrying to the
+schoolroom she stood still and looked out of one of the windows. The
+words Miss Mills had uttered as they walked across the fields to the
+wood kept returning to her memory. In some curious, undefined,
+uncomfortable way she connected them with her sister Hilda. What did
+they mean? Why was it dreadful to be engaged to be married? Why were
+some people so fickle, and why were promises broken? Judy had never seen
+Miss Mills so excited before.
+
+"She looked quite interesting when she spoke in that voice," said Judy
+to herself. "What did she mean? what could she mean? She said it was
+dreadful to be married, and dreadful to be engaged. I think I'll go and
+ask Mrs. Sutton. I don't care if I am a bit late for tea. The worst
+Miss Mills will do is to give me some poetry to learn, and I like
+learning poetry. Yes, I'll go and see Mrs. Sutton. She was married
+twice, so she must have been engaged twice. She must know all--all about
+it. She's a much better judge than Miss Mills, who never was married at
+all."
+
+Judy opened a baize door, which shut behind her with a bang. She went
+down a few steps, and a moment later was standing in a comfortably
+furnished sitting room which belonged to the housekeeper, Mrs. Sutton.
+
+Mrs. Sutton was a stout, portly old lady. She had twinkling good-humored
+eyes, a mouth which smiled whenever she looked at a child, and a
+constant habit of putting her hand into her pocket and taking out a
+lollipop. This lollipop found its way straight into the receptive mouth
+of any small creature of the human race who came in her way.
+
+"Is that you, Miss Judy?" she said now, turning round and setting down
+her own cup of strong tea. "Come along, my pet, and give me a kiss. What
+do you say to this?" She held a pink sugar-stick between her finger and
+thumb. "I suppose you'll want another for Miss Babs, bless her!"
+
+"Yes, thank you, Sutton," replied Judy. "Will you lay them on the
+table, please, and I'll take them when I am going away. Sutton, I want
+to talk to you about a _very_ private matter."
+
+"Well, darling--bless your dear heart, your secrets are safe enough with
+me."
+
+"Oh, it isn't exactly a secret, Sutton--it is something I want to know.
+Is it a dreadful thing to be engaged to be married?"
+
+"Bless us and save us!" said Mrs. Sutton. She flopped down again on her
+seat, and her red face grew purple. "Are you quite well, Miss Judy? You
+haven't been reading naughty books now, that you shouldn't open? What
+could put such thoughts into the head of a little miss like you?"
+
+"Please answer me, Sutton, it is most important. Is it dreadful to be
+engaged to be married? and are people fickle? and are promises broken?"
+
+"But, my dear----"
+
+"Will you answer me, dear, kind Sutton?"
+
+"Well, Miss Judy, well--anything to please you, dearie--it all depends."
+
+"What does it depend on?"
+
+"Taken from the female point of view, it depends on the sort the young
+man is; but, my darling, it's many and many a long day before you need
+worrit yourself with such matters."
+
+"But I want to know," persisted Judy. "People do get married. You were
+married twice yourself, Sutton; you told me so once."
+
+"So I was dear, and both my wedding gowns are in a trunk upstairs. My
+first was a figured sateen, a buff-colored ground with red flowers
+thrown over it. My second was a gray poplin. I was supposed to do very
+well with my second marriage, Miss Judy."
+
+"Then you were twice engaged, and twice married," said Judy. "I don't
+want to hear about the wedding gowns, Sutton. I am rather in a hurry. I
+want you to tell me about the other things. What were they like--the
+being engaged, and the being married? Was the person fickle, and did he
+break his promise?"
+
+For some reason or other Mrs. Sutton's face became so deeply flushed
+that she looked quite angry.
+
+"I'll tell you what it is, Miss Judy," she said, "someone is putting
+thoughts into your head what oughtn't to do it. You are a motherless
+child, and there's someone filling your head with arrant nonsense. What
+do you know about engagements and--and disappointments, and dreams what
+proves but early mists of the morning? what do you know of fickleness
+and broken promises? There, child, you won't get any of that bad sort of
+knowledge out of me. Now you run away, dearie. There's someone been
+talking about what they oughtn't to, and you has no call to listen, my
+pet. There's some weddings happy, and there's some that aint, and that's
+all I can say. Run away now, Miss Judy."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+A QUESTION AND AN ANSWER.
+
+    When some beloved voice that was to you
+    Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly,
+    And silence against which you dare not cry
+    Aches round you like a strong disease and new--
+    What hope? what help? what music will undo
+    That silence to your sense?
+
+                    --E. BARRETT BROWNING.
+
+
+Hilda Merton stood in a rather irresolute fashion in her bedroom.
+Several people were coming to dine at the Rectory to-night, and she, as
+the young mistress of the establishment, ought to be in the drawing room
+even now, waiting to receive her guests. The Rector was a very wealthy
+man, and all those luxuries surrounded Hilda which are the portion of
+those who are gently nurtured and well-born. Her maid had left the room,
+the young girl's simple white dress was arranged to perfection, her
+lovely hair was coiled becomingly around her shapely head. She was
+standing before her looking-glass, putting the final touches to her
+toilet.
+
+For some reason they took a long time to put. Hilda gazed into the
+reflection of her own pretty face as if she saw it not. Her brown eyes
+looked through the mirrored eyes in the glass with an almost abstracted
+expression. Suddenly a smile flitted across her face.
+
+"I'll do it," she exclaimed. "I'll wear his white rose. He may think
+what he pleases. I--I do love him with all my heart and soul."
+
+She blushed as she uttered these last words, and looked in a
+half-frightened way across the room, as if by chance someone might have
+overheard her.
+
+The next moment the white rose was snugly peeping out from among the
+coils of her rich hair. Her dress was fastened at the throat with a
+pearl brooch. She was in simple white from top to toe.
+
+"How late you are, Hilda," said Aunt Marjorie. "I was getting quite
+nervous. You know I hate to be alone in the drawing room when our
+visitors come; and really, my love, what a simple dress--nothing but a
+washing muslin. Did not you hear your father say that the Dean and Mrs.
+Sparks were coming to dinner to-night?"
+
+"Of course I did, Aunt Marjorie. The cook also knows that the Dean is
+coming to dine. Now don't fret, there's a dear. I look nice, don't I?
+that's the main thing."
+
+"Yes, Hilda, you look beautiful," said Aunt Marjorie solemnly; "but
+after all, when you have a new pink chiffon and--and----"
+
+"Hush, auntie dear, I see the Dean stepping out of his brougham."
+
+The other guests followed the Dean and Mrs. Sparks almost immediately.
+Dinner was announced, and the party withdrew to the dining room.
+
+Hilda, in her white dress with her happy sunshiny face, was the
+principal object of attraction at this dinner. There were two or three
+young men present, and they looked at her a good deal. Jasper Quentyns
+favored her with one quick glance; he was sitting at the far end of the
+table, and a very pretty girl was placed at his side. He saw the rose in
+Hilda's hair, and his heart beat quickly; his spirits rose several
+degrees, and he became so delightful and communicative to his neighbor
+that she thought him quite the pleasantest and handsomest man she had
+ever met.
+
+Quentyns did not glance again at Hilda. He was satisfied, for he felt
+pretty sure that a certain question which he meant to ask would be
+answered in the way he wished.
+
+The dinner came to an end, and the ladies withdrew into the drawing
+room. Two little figures in white dresses were waiting to receive them.
+Babs trotted everywhere, and was universally admired, petted, and
+praised. Judy stood in the shadow behind one of the curtains and watched
+Hilda.
+
+"Come out, Judy, and be sociable," said her sister.
+
+"I don't want to talk. I am so happy here, Hilda," she replied.
+
+"I do like spiders when they are very, very fat," sounded Babs' voice
+across the room.
+
+"Oh, you droll little creature!" exclaimed a lady who sat near; "why, I
+should fly from a spider any distance."
+
+"Perhaps you like earwigs better," said Babs.
+
+"Earwigs, they are horrors; oh, you quaint, quaint little soul."
+
+Babs did not care to be called a quaint little soul. She trotted across
+the room and stood by Judy's side.
+
+"There's nobody at all funny here," she said in a whisper. "I wish I had
+my Kitty Tiddliwinks to play with; I don't care for fine ladies."
+
+"It is time for you to go to bed, Babs," said Judy.
+
+"No, it isn't. I am not going before you go. You always talk as if I
+were a baby, and I aren't. Judy, you might tell me now what it is to be
+engaged to be married."
+
+"No, I can't tell you now," said Judy; "the gentlemen are coming in, and
+we mustn't talk and interrupt. If you won't go to bed you must stay
+quiet. You know if Aunt Marjorie sees you she'll send you off at once;
+now they are going to sing; ah, that'll be jolly. You stay quiet, Babs,
+and listen."
+
+Four young men surrounded the piano. Jasper Quentyns was one; Hilda
+played the accompaniment. The four voices did ample justice to the
+beautiful glee--"Men were deceivers ever." The well-known words were
+applauded vigorously, the applause rose to an encore. Judy listened as
+if fascinated.
+
+    "Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
+      Men were deceivers ever;
+    One foot in sea and one on shore,
+      To one thing constant never.
+        Then sigh not so,
+        But let them go ..."
+
+"Yes, that's the right thing to do," said Judy, turning round and fixing
+her bright eyes on Babs.
+
+"How funny you look," said Babs; "_you_ ought to go to bed."
+
+"Come, Barbara, what is this about?" said Aunt Marjorie's voice. "You
+up still--what can Miss Mills be thinking of? Now, little girls, it is
+nine o'clock, and you must both go away. Good-night, Babs dear;
+good-night, Judy."
+
+"Mayn't I say good-night to Hilda?" whispered Judy.
+
+"No, she's busy; run away this moment. Judy, if you question me I shall
+have to appeal to your father. Now, my loves, go."
+
+The little girls left the room, Babs complacently enough, Judy
+unwillingly. Babs was sleepy, and was very glad to lay her little head
+on her white pillow; but sleep was very far away from Judy's eyes.
+
+The little girls' bedroom was over a portion of the drawing room. They
+could hear the waves of the music and the light conversation and the gay
+laughter as they lay in their cots. The sounds soon mingled with Babs'
+dreams, but Judy felt more restless and less sleepy each moment.
+
+Miss Mills had entire care of the children. She dressed them and
+undressed them as well as taught them. She had left them now for the
+night. Miss Mills at this moment was writing an indignant letter in
+reply to the one which had so excited her feelings this morning. Her
+schoolroom was far away. Judy knew that she was safe. If she got out of
+bed, no one would hear her. In her little white night-dress she stole
+across the moonlit floor and crept up to the window. She softly
+unfastened the hasp and flung the window open. She could see down into
+the garden, and could almost hear the words spoken in the drawing room.
+Two figures had stepped out of the conservatory and side by side were
+walking across the silvered lawn.
+
+Judy's heart beat with great thumps--one of these people was her sister
+Hilda, the other was Jasper Quentyns. They walked side by side, keeping
+close to one another. Their movements were very slow, they were talking
+almost in whispers. Hilda's head only reached to Jasper's shoulder; he
+was bending down over her. Presently he took her hand. Judy felt as if
+she should scream.
+
+"He's a horrid, horrid, wicked man," she said under her breath; "he's a
+deceiver. 'Men were deceivers ever.' I know what he is. Oh, what shall I
+do? what shall I do? Oh, Hilda, oh, Hilda, darling, you shan't go
+through the misery of being engaged and then being married. Oh, oh, what
+shall I do to save you, Hilda?"
+
+Quentyns and Hilda were standing still. They had moved out of the line
+of light which streamed from the drawing room, and were standing under
+the shadow of a great beech tree. Judy felt that she could almost hear
+their words. From where she leant out of the window she could certainly
+see their actions. Quentyns stooped suddenly and kissed Hilda on her
+forehead; Hilda looked up at him and laid both her hands in his. He
+folded them in a firm pressure, and again stooping, kissed her twice.
+
+Upstairs in the nursery, misery was filling one little heart to the
+brim. A sob caught Judy's breath--she felt as if she should choke. She
+dared not look any more, but drawing down the blind, crept back into bed
+and covered her head with the bed-clothes.
+
+In the drawing room the guests stopped on, and never missed the two who
+had stolen away across the moonlit lawn. One girl, it is true, might
+have been noticed to cast some anxious glances toward the open window,
+and the companion who talked to her could not help observing that she
+scarcely replied to his remarks, and was not fully alive to his
+witticisms; but the rest of the little world jogged on its way merrily
+enough, unconscious of the Paradise which was so close to them in the
+Rectory garden, and of the Purgatory which one little soul was enduring
+upstairs.
+
+"Hilda," said Quentyns, when they had stood for some time under the
+beech tree, and had said many things each to the other, and felt a great
+deal more than could ever be put into words. "Hilda," said Quentyns, and
+all the poetry of the lovely summer evening seemed to have got into his
+eyes and filled his voice, "I give you all, remember, all that a man can
+give. I give you the love of my entire heart. My present is yours, my
+future is to be yours. I live for you, Hilda--I shall always live for
+you. Think what that means."
+
+"I can quite understand it," replied Hilda, "for I also live for you. I
+am yours, Jasper, for now and always."
+
+"And I am a very jealous man," said Quentyns. "When I give all, I like
+to get all."
+
+Hilda laughed.
+
+"How solemnly you speak," she said, stepping back a pace, and an almost
+imperceptible jar coming into her voice. Then she came close again. "The
+fault you will have to find with me is this, Jasper," she said, looking
+fully at him with her sweet eyes; "I shall love you, if anything, too
+well. No one can ever come between us, unless it is dear little Judy."
+
+"Judy! Don't you think you make too much fuss about that child? She is
+such a morbid little piece of humanity."
+
+"Not a bit of it. You don't quite understand her. She and I are much
+more than ordinary sisters to each other. I feel as if I were in a
+certain sense Judy's mother. When mother died she left Judy to me.
+Little darling! No one ever had a more faithful or a nobler heart. You
+must get fond of her too, for my sake; won't you, Jasper?"
+
+"I'll do anything for your sake, you know that, Hilda. But don't let us
+talk of Judy any more just now--let us----"
+
+"Mr. Quentyns, is that your voice I hear?" called Aunt Marjorie, from
+the drawing room. "And, Hilda, ought you to be out with the dew falling
+so heavily?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+CHANGES.
+
+    Sing on! we sing in the glorious weather
+      Till one steps over the tiny strand,
+    So narrow in sooth, that still together
+      On either brink we go hand in hand.
+
+    The beck grows wider, the hands must sever,
+      On either margin our songs all done;
+    We move apart, while she singeth ever,
+      Taking the course of the stooping sun.
+
+                    --JEAN INGELOW.
+
+
+About a week after Hilda Merton's engagement, just when her friends were
+full of the event, and congratulations began to pour in on all sides,
+there came a very unexpected blow to the inmates of the peaceful and
+pretty Rectory.
+
+The parish of Little Staunton was large and scattered; it stretched away
+at one side down to the sea, at another it communicated with great open
+moors and tracts of the outlying lands of the New Forest. It was but
+sparsely peopled, and those parishioners who lived in small cottages by
+the sea, and who earned their living as fishermen, were most of them
+very poor. Mr. Merton, however, was one of the ideal sort of rectors,
+who helped his flock with temporal as well as spiritual benefits. The
+stipend which he received from the church was not a large one, and every
+penny of it was devoted to the necessities of his poor parishioners.
+
+There came an awful morning, therefore, when a short announcement in the
+local paper, and a long letter from Mr. Merton's lawyer, acquainted him
+with the fact that the Downshire County Bank had stopped payment. In
+plain language, Mr. Merton, from being a wealthy man, became suddenly a
+very poor one.
+
+Aunt Marjorie cried when she heard the news; Hilda's face turned very
+pale, and Judy and Babs, who were both in the room at the time, felt
+that sort of wonder and perplexity which children do experience when
+they know something is dreadfully wrong, but cannot in the least
+understand what it is.
+
+In the course of the morning Hilda went to her father in his study.
+
+Her face was very white as she opened the door, some of the young soft
+lines of her early youth seemed to have left it; her beautiful brown
+eyes looked in a heavy sort of fashion out at the world from their dark
+surroundings. She came up to her father, and put her hand on his
+shoulder. He was bending over his desk, busily writing.
+
+"What is the matter, Hilda?" he asked, glancing up at her with a quick
+start, and an endeavor to make his voice sound as usual.
+
+"I--I have come, father, to say that if you like, I--I will give up my
+engagement to Jasper Quentyns."
+
+Mr. Merton rose from his seat and put his arm round her neck.
+
+"My dear child," he said, "it is my comfort to-day to know that you, at
+least, are provided for. Quentyns is fairly well off. If he will take
+you without any fortune, there is certainly no reason why you should not
+go to him."
+
+"Money can't make any difference to Jasper," said Hilda, just a little
+proudly, although her lips trembled; "but I--it seems wrong that I
+should be so happy when the rest of you are so miserable."
+
+"Tut, tut!" said the Rector. "I shall get over this in time. I own that
+just now the blow is so severe that I can scarcely quite realize it.
+When I opened my eyes this morning, I was pleasantly conscious that I
+was the possessor of a private income of quite two thousand a year; I
+felt this fact in the comforts that surrounded me, and the ease which
+filled my life. Except that small stipend which is represented by my
+living, and which I have always hitherto devoted to the poor of the
+flock, I am now reduced to nothing a year. My poor must divide my money
+with me in future, that is all; I don't intend to be miserable when I
+get accustomed to the change, Hilda. I must dismiss most of the
+servants, and give up the carriage and horses, and live as a poor man
+instead of a rich one; but I owe no man anything, my dear, and I have
+not the least doubt there is a certain zest in poverty which will make
+the new order of things agreeable enough when once I get used to it."
+
+The tears gathered slowly in Hilda's eyes.
+
+"I don't feel as if I could quite bear it," she said, with a sob.
+
+The Rector, who was always rather absent-minded, and had a dreamy way of
+looking far ahead even when he was most roused, scarcely noticed Hilda's
+tears. He talked on in a monotonous sort of voice:
+
+"I have not the least doubt that poverty has its alleviations. I have
+heard it more than once remarked that the hand-to-mouth existence is the
+most stimulating in the world. I should not be surprised, Hilda, if my
+sermons took a turn for the better after this visitation. I have
+preached to my flock, year in, year out, that the mysterious ways of
+Providence are undoubtedly the best--I have got to act up to my
+preaching now, that is all."
+
+The Rector sat down again and continued to write a very unbusiness-like
+letter to his lawyer; Hilda stood and looked at him with a frown between
+her brows, and then went slowly out of the room.
+
+Aunt Marjorie, who had cried herself nearly sick, and whose eyes between
+their swollen lids were scarcely visible, came to meet her as she walked
+across the hall.
+
+"Oh, my darling," she said, with a fresh sob, "how can I bear to look at
+you when I think of all your young life blighted in a moment! Oh, those
+wicked Bank Directors. They deserve hanging! yes, I should hang them one
+and all. And so you have been with my poor brother? I would not venture
+near him. How is he taking it, Hilda? Is he quite off his head, poor,
+dear man?"
+
+"How do you think my father would take a blow of this kind?" said Hilda.
+"Come into the drawing room, Auntie. Oh, Auntie dear, do try to stop
+crying. You don't know what father is. Of course I can't pretend to
+understand him, but he is quite noble--he is splendid; he makes me
+believe in religion. A man must be very, very good to talk as father
+has just done."
+
+"Poor Samuel!" said Aunt Marjorie. "I knew that he would take this blow
+either as a saint or as an idiot--I don't know which is the most trying.
+You see, Hilda, my love, your father has never had anything to do with
+the petty details of housekeeping. This parish brings in exactly three
+hundred and fifty pounds a year; how are we to pay the wages of nine
+servants, and how are the gardeners to be paid, and the little girls'
+governess, and--and how is this beautiful house to be kept up on a
+pittance of that sort? Oh, dear; oh, dear! Your father will just say to
+me, 'I know, Marjorie, that you will do your best,' and then he'll
+forget that there is such a thing as money; but I shall never be able to
+forget it, Hilda. Oh, dear; oh, dear! I do think saintly men are awful
+trials."
+
+"But you said just now you thought he would be off his head. You ought
+to be very thankful, Aunt Maggie, that he is taking things as he is. Of
+course the servants must go away, and the establishment must be put on
+an altogether new footing. You'll have to walk instead of ride in
+future, but I don't suppose Judy and Babs will much care, and I----"
+
+"Oh, yes," said Aunt Marjorie, "you will be in your new house in
+London, new-fangled with your position, and highly pleased and proud to
+put Mrs. before your name, and you'll forget all about us. Of course I
+am pleased for you, but you're just as bad as your father when you talk
+in that cool fashion about dismissing the servants, and when you expect
+an old lady like me to tramp all over the place on my feet."
+
+"I told father that if he wished I would break off my engagement."
+
+Aunt Marjorie dried her eyes when her niece made this speech, and looked
+at her fixedly.
+
+"I do think," she said, "that you're a greater fool even than poor
+Samuel. Is not your engagement to a nice, gentlemanly, clever man like
+Jasper Quentyns the one ray of brightness in this desolate day? You,
+child, at least are provided for."
+
+"I wonder if you think that I care about being provided for at this
+juncture?" answered Hilda, knitting her brows once again in angry
+perplexity.
+
+She went away to her own room, and sitting before her desk, wrote a long
+letter to her lover.
+
+Quentyns had been called to the Bar, and was already beginning to
+receive "briefs."
+
+His income was by no means large, however, and although he undoubtedly
+loved Hilda for her own sake, he might not have proposed an immediate
+marriage had he not believed that his pretty bride would not come to him
+penniless.
+
+Hilda sat with her pen in her hand, looking down at the blank sheet of
+paper.
+
+By the same post which had brought the lawyer's dreadful letter there
+had come two closely-written sheets from Jasper. He wanted Hilda to
+marry him in the autumn, and he had already begun house-hunting.
+
+"We might find it best to take a small flat for a year," he had written,
+"but if you would rather have a house, darling, say so. Some people
+don't approve of flats. They say they are not so wholesome. One misses
+the air of the staircase, and there is a certain monotony in living
+altogether on one floor which may not be quite conducive to health. On
+the other hand flats are compact, and one knows almost at a glance what
+one's expenses are likely to be. I have been consulting Rivers--you know
+how often I have talked to you of my friend Archie Rivers--and he thinks
+on the whole that a flat would be advisable; we avoid rates and taxes
+and all those sort of worries, and if we like to shut up house for a
+week, and run down to the Rectory, why there we are, you know; for the
+house-porter sees to our rooms, and we run no risk from burglars. But
+what do you say yourself, darling, for that is the main point?"
+
+Hilda had read this letter with a beating heart and a certain pleasant
+sense of exhilaration at breakfast that morning, but then this was
+before the blow came--before Aunt Marjorie's shriek had sounded through
+the room, and before Hilda had caught a glimpse of her father's face
+with the gray tint spreading all over it, before she had heard his
+tremulous words:
+
+"Yes, Marjorie! God help us! We are ruined."
+
+Hilda read the letter now with very different feelings; somehow or other
+all the rose light had gone out of it. She was a very inexperienced girl
+as far as money matters were concerned. Until to-day money seemed to
+have little part or lot in her life; it had never stirred her nature to
+its depths, it had kindly supplied her with necessities and luxuries; it
+had gilded everything, but she had never known where the gilt came from.
+When she engaged herself to Jasper, he told her that, for the present at
+least, he was a comparatively poor man; he had three hundred a year of
+his own. This he assured her was a mere bagatelle, but as he was almost
+certain to earn as much more in his profession, and as Hilda had money,
+he thought they might marry if she did not mind living very prudently.
+Of course Hilda did not mind--she knew nothing at all of the money part.
+The whole thing meant love and poetry to her, and she disliked the word
+money coming into it.
+
+To-day, however, things looked different. For the first time she got a
+glimpse of Tragedy. How mean of it, how horrible of it to come in this
+guise! She pressed her hand to her forehead, and wondered what her lover
+could mean when he talked of rates and taxes, and asked her to decide
+between a flat and a house.
+
+"I don't know what to say," she murmured to herself. "Perhaps we shall
+not be married at all at present. Perhaps Jasper will say we can't
+afford it. Perhaps I ought to answer his question about the flat--but I
+don't know what to say. I thought we might have had a cottage somewhere
+in one of the suburbs--with a little garden, and that I might have kept
+fowls, and have had heaps and heaps of flowers. Surely fowls would be
+economical, but I am sure I can't say. I really don't know anything
+whatever about the matter."
+
+"Why are you talking in that funny way half-aloud to yourself, Hilda?"
+asked a little voice with a sad inflection in it.
+
+Hilda slightly turned her head and saw that Judy had softly opened the
+door of her bedroom, and was standing in the entrance.
+
+Judy had an uncertain manner about her which was rather new to her
+character, and her face had a somewhat haggard look, unnatural and not
+pleasant to see in so young a child.
+
+"Oh, pet, is that you?" said Hilda. "Come and give me a kiss--I am just
+longing for you--you're the person of all others to consult. Come along
+and sit down by me. Now, now--you don't want to strangle me, do you?"
+
+For Judy had rushed upon her sister like a little whirlwind, her strong
+childish arms were flung with almost ferocious tightness round Hilda's
+neck, the skirt of her short frock had swept Jasper's letter to the
+floor, and even upset an ink-pot in its voluminous sweep.
+
+"Oh, oh!" said Hilda, "I must wipe up this mess. There, Judy, keep back
+for a moment; it will get upon the carpet, and spoil it if we are not as
+quick as possible. Hand me that sheet of blotting-paper, dear. There
+now, that is better--I have stopped the stream from descending too far.
+Why, Judith, my dear, you have tears in your eyes. You don't suppose I
+care about the ink being spilt when I get a hug like that from you."
+
+"I wasn't crying about the ink," said Judy; "what's ink! The tears came
+because I am so joyful."
+
+"You joyful? and to-day?" said Hilda. "You know what has happened, don't
+you, Judy?"
+
+"We are poor instead of rich," said Judy; "what's that? Oh, I am so
+happy--I am so awfully happy that I scarcely know what to do."
+
+"What a queer little soul you are! Now, now, am I to be swept up in
+another embrace?"
+
+"Oh, yes, let me, let me--I haven't kissed you like this since you,
+you--you got _engaged_."
+
+"In what a spiteful way you say that last word, Judy; now I come to
+think of it, we _have_ scarcely kissed each other since. But whose fault
+was that? Not mine, I am sure. I was quite hungry for one of your
+kisses, jewel, and now that I have got it I feel ever so much better.
+Sit down by me, and let us talk. Judy, you are a very wise little
+darling, aren't you?"
+
+"I don't know. If you think so, you darling, I suppose I am."
+
+"I do think so. I have had a letter from Jasper. I want to talk over
+something he says in it with you. Judy dear, he is such a noble fellow."
+
+Judy shut up her firm lips until they looked like a straight line across
+her face.
+
+"He's such a noble fellow," repeated Hilda. "I can't tell you how glad
+you ought to be to have the prospect of calling a man like Jasper your
+brother; he'll be a great help to you, Judy, by and by."
+
+"No, he won't--I don't want him to be," said Judy viciously.
+
+"Why, I declare, I do believe the dear is jealous; but now to go on.
+Jasper has written to me on a most important subject. Now, if I consult
+you about it you won't ever, ever tell, will you?"
+
+"No, of course I won't. Was it about that you were muttering to yourself
+when I came into the room?"
+
+"You funny puss; yes, I was talking the matter over to myself. Jasper is
+looking out for a house for us."
+
+"He isn't. It's awfully cheeky of him."
+
+"My dear Judy, it would be much more cheeky to ask me to go and live in
+the street with him. We must have some residence after we are
+married--mustn't we? Well, darling, now you must listen very
+attentively; he has asked me whether it would be best for us to live in
+a little house of our own----"
+
+"Why a little house? he ought to take you to a palace."
+
+"Don't interrupt; we shall be poor people, quite a poor couple, Jasper
+and I. Now, Judy, just try and get as wise as a Solon. He wants to know
+whether I would rather live in a little house or a flat."
+
+"What's a flat, Hilda?"
+
+"I don't quite know myself; but I believe a flat consists of several
+rooms on one floor shut away from the rest of the house by a separate
+hall door. Jasper rather approves of a flat, because he says there won't
+be any rates and taxes. It's very silly, but though I am a grown-up
+girl, I don't exactly know what rates and taxes are--do you?"
+
+"No, but I can ask Miss Mills."
+
+"I don't expect she'd know anything about them; it seems so stupid to
+have to write back and tell Jasper that I don't understand what he
+means."
+
+"Aunt Marjorie would know," said Judy.
+
+"I shouldn't like to consult her, pet. I think I'd better leave it to
+Jasper to decide."
+
+Judy looked very wise and interested now.
+
+"Why don't you say you'd rather go into a little house?" she said; "it
+sounds much more interesting. A flat is an ugly name, and I am quite
+sure it must be an ugly place."
+
+"That is true," said Hilda, pausing and looking straight before her
+with her pretty brows knit. "Oh, dear, oh, dear! I wonder what is right.
+And a little house might have a garden too, mightn't it, Judy?"
+
+"Of course, and a fowl-house and a cote for your pigeons."
+
+"To be sure; and when you come to see me, you should have a strip of
+garden to dig in all for yourself."
+
+"Oh, should I really come to see you, Hilda? Miss Mills said that you
+wouldn't want me--that you wouldn't be bothered with me."
+
+"That I wouldn't be bothered with you? Why, I shall wish to have you
+with me quite half the time. Now, now, am I to be strangled again?
+Please, Judy, abstain from embracing, and tell me whether we are to have
+a flat or a cottage."
+
+"Of course you are to have a cottage, with the garden and the
+fowl-house."
+
+"I declare I think I'll take your advice, you little dear. I'll write
+and tell Jasper that I'd much rather have a cottage. Now, who is that
+knocking at the door? Run, Judy, and see what's wanted."
+
+Judy returned in a moment with a telegram.
+
+Hilda tore it open with fingers that slightly trembled.
+
+"Oh, how joyful, how joyful!" she exclaimed.
+
+"What is it?" asked Judy.
+
+"Jasper is coming--my dear, dear Jasper. See what he says--'Have heard
+the bad news--my deepest sympathy--expect me this evening.' Then I
+needn't write after all. Judy, Judy, I agree with you; I feel quite
+happy, even though it is the dreadful day when the blow has been
+struck."
+
+Judy did not say anything, she rose languidly to her feet.
+
+"Where are you going?" asked Hilda.
+
+"For a walk."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Miss Mills said that even though we were poor I was to take the fresh
+air," replied the child in a prim little voice, out of which all the
+spirit had gone.
+
+She kissed Hilda, but no longer in a rapturous, tempestuous fashion, and
+walked soberly out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+IN A GARDEN.
+
+    I go like one in a dream, unbidden my feet know the way,
+    To that garden where love stood in blossom with the red and
+        white hawthorn of May.
+
+                    --MATHILDE BLIND.
+
+
+Aunt Marjorie had cried until she could cry no longer. Hers was a
+slighter nature than either Mr. Merton's or Hilda's. In consequence,
+perhaps, she was able to realize the blow which had come upon them more
+vividly and more quickly than either her brother or niece.
+
+Aunt Marjorie had taken a great pride in the pretty, well-ordered house.
+She was a capable, a kind, and a considerate mistress. Her servants
+worked well under her guidance. She was set in authority over them; they
+liked her rule, and acknowledged it with cheerful and willing service.
+
+No one could give such perfect little dinner-parties as Aunt Marjorie.
+She had a knack of finding out each of her guests' particular weaknesses
+with regard to the dinner-table. She was no diplomatist, and her
+conversation was considered prosy; but with Mr. Merton to act the
+perfect host and to lead the conversation into the newest intellectual
+channels, with Hilda to look sweet and gracious and beautiful, and with
+Aunt Marjorie to provide the dinner, nothing could have been a greater
+success than the little party which took place on an average once a week
+at the sociable Rectory.
+
+Now all these things were at an end. The servants must go; the large
+house--which had been added to from time to time by the Rector until it
+had lost all similitude to the ordinary small and cozy Rectory--the
+great house must remain either partly shut up or only half cleaned.
+There must be no more dinner-parties, and no nice carriage for Aunt
+Marjorie to return calls in. The vineries and conservatories must remain
+unheated during the winter; the gardeners must depart. Weeds must grow
+instead of flowers.
+
+Alack, and alas! Aunt Marjorie felt like a shipwrecked mariner, as she
+sat now in the lovely drawing room and looked out over the summer scene.
+
+With her mind's eye she was gazing at something totally different--she
+was seeing the beautiful place as it would look in six months' time; she
+saw with disgust the rank and obnoxious weeds, the empty grate, the
+dust-covered ornaments.
+
+"It is worse for us than it would be for ordinary people," she said half
+aloud. "If we were just ordinary people, we could leave here and go into
+a tiny cottage where our surroundings would be in keeping with our
+means; but of course the Rector must live in the Rectory--at least I
+suppose so. Dear, dear! how sudden this visitation has been--truly may
+it be said that 'all flesh is grass.'"
+
+Aunt Marjorie had a way of quoting sentences which did not at all apply
+to the occasion; these quotations always pleased her, however, and a
+slow smile now played round her lips.
+
+The drawing-room door was opened noisily, and a fat little figure rushed
+across the room and sprang into her arms.
+
+"Is that you, Babs?" she said. She cuddled the child in a close embrace,
+and kissed her smooth, cool cheek many times.
+
+"Yes, of course it's me," said Babs, in her matter-of-fact voice. "Your
+eyes are quite red, Auntie. Have you been crying?"
+
+"We have had dreadful trouble, my darling--poor Auntie feels very
+miserable--it is about father. Your dear father has lost all his money,
+my child."
+
+"Miss Mills told me that half an hour ago," said Babs; "that's why I
+wanted to see you, Auntie. I has got half a sovereign in the Savings
+Bank. I'll give it to father if he wants it."
+
+"You're a little darling," said Aunt Marjorie, kissing her again.
+
+"There's Judy going across the garden," said Babs. "Look at her, she has
+her shoulders hunched up to her ears. She's not a bit of good; she won't
+play with me nor nothing."
+
+"That child doesn't look at all well," said Aunt Marjorie.
+
+She started to her feet, putting Babs on the floor. A new anxiety and a
+new interest absorbed her mind.
+
+"Judy, Judy," she called; "come here, child. I have noticed for the last
+week," she said, speaking her thoughts aloud, "that Judy has black lines
+under her eyes, and a dragged sort of look about her. What can it mean?"
+
+"She cries such a lot," said Babs in her untroubled voice. "I hear her
+when she's in bed at night. I thought she had she-cups, but it wasn't,
+it was sobs."
+
+"_She-cups_--what do you mean, child? Judy, come here, darling."
+
+"She-cups," repeated Babs. "Some people call them he-cups; but I don't
+when a girl has them."
+
+Judy came slowly up to the window.
+
+"Where were you going, my pet?" asked Aunt Marjorie.
+
+"Only for a walk," she answered.
+
+"A walk all by yourself? How pale you are, dearie. Have you a headache?"
+
+"No, Auntie."
+
+Aunt Marjorie pulled Judy forward. She felt her forehead and looked at
+her tongue, and put her in such a position that she could gaze down into
+her throat.
+
+Not being able to detect anything the matter, she thought it best to
+scold her niece a little.
+
+"Little girls oughtn't to walk slowly and to be dismal," she said. "It
+is very wrong and ungrateful of them. They ought to run about and skip
+and laugh. Work while you work, and play while you play. That was the
+motto when I was a little girl. Now, Judy, love, go out with Babs and
+have a good romp. You had better both of you go to the hay-field, for it
+might distract your poor father to hear your two merry voices. Run, my
+dears, run; make yourselves scarce."
+
+"Come, Babs," said Judy. She held out her hand to her little sister,
+and the two went away together.
+
+"Do you know, Judy," said Babs, the moment they were out of Aunt
+Marjorie's hearing, "that I saw a quarter of an hour ago a great big
+spider in the garden catching a wasp. He rolled the poor wasp round and
+round with his web until he made him into a ball."
+
+"And did you leave that poor wasp to die?" asked Judy, keen interest and
+keen anger coming into her voice.
+
+"No, I didn't," said Babs. "I took him away from the spider. I wouldn't
+be kite so cruel as to let the poor thing die; but I s'pect he'll die
+all the same, for he can't get out of the ball that he's in."
+
+"Poor darling!" said Judy. "Let's go and find him and try to get the web
+off him. Do you know where he is, Babs?"
+
+"I put him on an ivy leaf on the ground," said Babs, "under the yew-tree
+down there. I can find him in a minute."
+
+"Well, let's go and save him as quickly as possible."
+
+The two children rushed with eagerness and vigor down the slops.
+
+Aunt Marjorie could see them as they disappeared out of sight.
+
+She turned to weep and bewail herself once more, and Judy and Babs
+began industriously to look for the wasp.
+
+They were busily engaged on their hands and knees searching all over the
+ground for the identical ivy leaf where Babs had placed the rescued
+insect, when a voice sounded in their ears, and Judy raised her head to
+see pretty Mildred Anstruther standing by her side.
+
+Mildred was one of the belles of the county; her hair was as bright as a
+sunbeam, her eyes as blue as a summer sky, her full lips were red, her
+cheeks had the bloom of the peach upon them. Mildred was a well-grown
+girl, with a largely and yet gracefully developed figure.
+
+In addition to her personal charms she had a considerable fortune. It
+went without saying, therefore, that she was greatly admired.
+
+Mildred had often been the talk of Little Staunton; her numerous
+flirtations had caused head-shakings and dismal croaks from many of the
+old maids of the neighborhood. The sterner sex had owned to
+heart-burnings in connection with her, for Mildred could flirt and
+receive any amount of attention without giving her heart in return. She
+was wont to laugh at love affairs, and had often told Hilda that the
+prince to whom alone she would give her affections was scarcely likely
+to appear.
+
+"The time when gods used to walk upon the earth is over, my dear Hilda,"
+she used to say. "When I find the perfect man, I will marry him, but not
+before."
+
+Mildred, who was twenty-six years of age, had therefore the youngest and
+smoothest of faces; care had never touched her life, and wrinkles were
+unlikely to visit her.
+
+For some reason, however, she looked careworn now, and Judy, with a
+child's quick perception, noticed it.
+
+She was fond of Mildred, and she put up her lips for a kiss.
+
+"What's the matter, Milly?" she asked; "have you a cold?"
+
+"No, my love; on principle I never allow myself to have anything so
+silly; but I am shocked, Judy--shocked at what I have read in the
+morning papers."
+
+"Oh, about our money," replied Judy in an unconcerned voice. "Have you
+found that wasp, Babs? Are you looking on _all_ the ivy leaves?"
+
+"I picked an ivy leaf, and put it down just here," replied Babs, "and I
+put the wasp in it most carefully; the wind must have caught it and
+blown it away."
+
+"Oh, dear; oh, dear! the poor creature, what will become of it?"
+answered Judy. She was down on her hands and knees again, poking and
+examining, but poking and examining in vain.
+
+"It's very rude of you, Judy, not to pay me the least attention," said
+Mildred. "I have come over on purpose to see you, and there you are
+squatting on the ground, pushing all that rubbish about. You have no
+manners, and I'll tell Hilda so; and, Babs, what are you about not to
+give me a hug?"
+
+[Illustration: "I HAVE COME ON PURPOSE TO SEE YOU, JUDY." P. 60.]
+
+Babs raised a somewhat grimy little face.
+
+"We can't find the poor wasp," she said. "He was rolled up in the
+spider's web, and I put him on an ivy leaf, and now he's gone."
+
+"You had better go on looking for him, Babs," said Judy, "and I'll talk
+to Milly." She rose as she spoke and placed her dirty little hand on
+Miss Anstruther's arm. "So you heard about our money, Milly?" she said.
+"Aunt Marjorie is in an awful state, she has cried and cried and cried;
+but the rest of us don't care."
+
+"You don't care? Oh, you queer, queer people! You don't mean to tell me,
+little Judy, that Hilda doesn't care?"
+
+"Hilda cares the least of all," replied Judy; "she has got Jasper."
+
+Judy's face clouded over as she spoke.
+
+"I wonder what _he'll_ say to this business," remarked Miss Anstruther,
+half to herself; "he's not at all well off--it ought to make a
+tremendous difference to him."
+
+"He certainly isn't to be pitied," said Judy; "he's going to get Hilda."
+
+"And what about Hilda's money?" laughed Miss Anstruther. Her face wore
+an expression which was almost disagreeable, her big blue eyes looked
+dark as they gazed at the child.
+
+Judy's own little face turned pale. She didn't understand Miss
+Anstruther, but something impelled her to say with great fierceness:
+
+"I hate Jasper!"
+
+Miss Anstruther stooped down and kissed her.
+
+"You are a queer, passionate little thing, Judy," she said, "but it's a
+very good thing for Hilda to be engaged to a nice sensible fellow like
+Jasper Quentyns, and of course it is more important now than ever for
+her. He'll be disappointed, of course, but I dare say they can get along
+somehow. Ah, there's Aunt Marjorie coming out of the house. I must run
+and speak to her, poor dear; how troubled she looks! and no wonder."
+
+Mildred ran off, and Judy stood where she had left her, in the center of
+the lawn, quivering all over.
+
+What did Milly mean by saying that Jasper would be disappointed--Jasper,
+who was going to get Hilda--Hilda herself? What could anyone want more
+than the sun? what could any man desire more than the queen of all
+queens, the rose of all roses?
+
+Thoughts like these flitted through little Judy's mind in confused
+fashion. Hilda was to be married to Jasper, and the Rectory of Little
+Staunton would know her no more. That indeed was a sorrow to make
+everyone turn sick and pale, but the loss of the money was not worth a
+moment's consideration.
+
+Judy wandered about, too restless and unhappy to settle to her play.
+Babs shouted in the distance that the wasp was not to be seen. Even the
+fate of the poor wasp scarcely interested Judy at present. She was
+watching for Mildred to reappear that she might join her in the avenue
+and ask why she dared to say those words about Jasper.
+
+"Well, Judy," said Miss Anstruther by and by, "here I am, back at last.
+I saw Aunt Marjorie, but I didn't see the Rector, and I didn't see
+Hilda. Aunt Marjorie tells me that Jasper Quentyns is coming down
+to-night, so I suppose he's going to take everything all right."
+
+"What do you mean, Milly?" asked Judy.
+
+"Why do you look at me in that fierce way, you small atom?" answered
+Mildred, stopping in her walk and looking at the child with an amused
+smile on her face.
+
+"Because I don't understand you," said Judy.
+
+"It is scarcely likely you should, my darling. Let me see, how old are
+you--nine? Well, you'll know something of what I mean when you're
+nineteen. Now I must go."
+
+"No, stop a bit, Milly. I don't understand you, but I hate hints. Miss
+Mills hints things sometimes, and oh, how I detest her when she does!
+and you're hinting now, and it is something against Hilda."
+
+"Against Hilda? Oh, good gracious, child, what an awful cram!"
+
+"It isn't a cram, it is true. I can't explain it, but I know you're
+hinting something against darling Hilda. Why should you say that Jasper
+will be disappointed? Isn't she going away with him some day? and aren't
+they going to live in--in a horrid--a horrid _flat_ together, and she
+won't even have a garden, nor fowls, nor flowers? And you say Jasper
+will be disappointed. Everything is going when Hilda goes, and you speak
+as if Jasper wasn't the very luckiest person in all the wide world. _I_
+know what it means; yes, I know. Oh, Milly, I'm so unhappy. Oh, Milly,
+what _shall_ I do when Hilda goes away?"
+
+Mildred was impulsive and kind-hearted, notwithstanding the very decided
+fit of jealousy which was now over her. She put her arm round Judy and
+tried to comfort her.
+
+"You poor little thing," she said, "you poor little jealous, miserable
+mite. How could you think you were going to keep your Hilda always?
+There, Judy, there, darling, I really am sorry for you--I really am, but
+you know Hilda is pretty and sweet, and someone wants her to make
+another home beautiful. There, I'll say something to comfort you--I'll
+eat all the words I have already uttered, and tell you emphatically from
+my heart of hearts that Hilda is too good for Jasper Quentyns."
+
+"Judy, Judy, Judy! I have found the wasp," shouted Babs.
+
+Judy dried her eyes hastily, kissed Mildred, and ran across the lawn to
+her little sister.
+
+"What a queer child Judy Merton is," said Mildred to herself. "What
+tempestuous little creatures some children are. How passionately she
+spoke about Hilda, and now her whole heart and soul are devoted to the
+rescuing of a miserable insect. Yes, of course Jasper is not good enough
+for Hilda. He has plenty of faults, he is not the prince I have been
+looking for, and yet--and yet----"
+
+Her heart beat quickly, the color rushed into her face, she felt her
+firm lips tremble, and knew that her eyes were shining with unusual
+brilliance. Someone was coming along the path to meet her. A man with
+the sunlight shining all over him--an athletic figure, who walked with
+the swift bounding step of youth. He was Jasper Quentyns.
+
+"Hullo!" he called, catching sight of her. "I was fortunate in getting
+an earlier train than I had hoped for, and here I am two hours before I
+was expected. How is Hilda? Have you been at the house? Are they all
+fearfully cut up?"
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Quentyns?" replied Mildred. "Yes, I have been at the
+house, and I have seen Judy and Aunt Marjorie. Judy seems to me to be in
+a very excitable and feverish state of mind."
+
+"She's rather spoilt, isn't she?" said Quentyns.
+
+"Oh, well, she's Hilda's special darling, the first in her heart by
+many degrees--after--after somebody else."
+
+"But how could a child like Judy know anything about money loss?"
+
+"It isn't the money that's troubling her at the present moment, it's a
+poor wasp. Now pray don't look so bewildered, and do try and forget
+about Judy. Aunt Marjorie is taking her trouble in a thoroughly
+practical and Aunt Marjorie style. I have not seen Hilda, nor have I
+seen the Rector."
+
+"It will be an awful blow to them all," said Quentyns.
+
+"Yes," replied Miss Anstruther, looking him straight in the eyes, "an
+awful blow. And you feel it far more than Hilda," she soliloquized, as
+she walked back to her own home.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE EVE OF THE WEDDING.
+
+    Where shall I find a white rose blowing?
+      Out in the garden where all sweets be.
+    But out in my garden the snow was snowing
+      And never a white rose opened for me,
+    Naught but snow and a wind were blowing
+      And snowing.
+
+                    --CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI.
+
+
+Notwithstanding Mildred Anstruther's inward prognostications, there came
+no hitch to Hilda Merton's engagement. Quentyns behaved as the best and
+most honorable of men. He was all that was tender and loving to Hilda,
+and he immediately took that position toward Mr. Merton which a son
+might have held. Quentyns was a good business man, and in the
+catastrophe which overwhelmed the Rectory, he proved himself invaluable.
+
+On one point, however, he was very firm. His marriage with Hilda must
+not be delayed. No persuasive speeches on her part, no longing looks out
+of Judy's hungry eyes, no murmurs on the part of Aunt Marjorie, would
+induce him to put off the time of the wedding by a single day.
+
+He used great tact in this matter, for Quentyns was the soul of tact,
+and it quite seemed to the family, and even to Hilda herself, that _she_
+had suggested the eighth of January as the most suitable day in the
+whole year for a wedding--it seemed to the whole family, and even to
+Hilda herself, that _she_ was the one who desired to go, whereas in her
+heart of hearts, in that innermost heart which she scarcely ventured to
+probe at all just now, she would have gladly shared Aunt Marjorie's
+discomforts and sat by her father's side while he composed those sermons
+which were to teach his flock, with a sure note of truth running through
+them, that the blessed man is the man whom the Lord God chasteneth.
+
+The wedding-day was fixed, and notwithstanding poverty and its attendant
+shadows, preparations for the great event went on merrily enough.
+
+A check for Hilda's trousseau was sent to her by a rich aunt in India,
+and the pleasant excitement which even the quietest wedding always
+causes began to pervade the Rectory.
+
+When the day was finally arranged, Aunt Marjorie ceased to murmur and
+cry. She talked a great deal now of Hilda's coming responsibilities, and
+spent all her leisure moments copying out receipts which she thought
+might be useful to her niece in her new position as wife and
+housekeeper.
+
+"You have never yet told me where you are going to live, Hilda," she
+said, on the New Year's Day which preceded the wedding.
+
+"I am not quite sure myself," replied Hilda. "Jasper has seen a great
+many suburban houses which he does not quite like, and a great many
+flats which he considers absolutely perfect. He says there is no special
+hurry about choosing a house, for after we have returned from our
+wedding tour we are to stay with some of his relations in town, and
+during that time we can make up our minds as to what kind of home we
+will have."
+
+"Very prudent of Jasper," said Aunt Marjorie. "He really is an excellent
+fellow--so wonderfully thoughtful for such a young man. Of course he has
+far too much sense to think of selecting a house for you himself. As to
+a flat, you will of course not dream of going into one--a house is
+better in all respects, more airy and more interesting."
+
+"I should like a house best," said Hilda, "but Jasper, of course, is the
+one really to decide."
+
+"Now, there you are wrong, my love. _You_ are undoubtedly the right
+person to make the final choice. I am old-fashioned in my ideas, Hilda,
+and I think the wife ought to be in subjection to her husband, for we
+have Scripture for it, but I don't believe St. Paul meant that rule to
+extend to domestic matters. In domestic matters the wife _ought_ to have
+the casting vote. Be sure, my dear Hilda, you don't yield to Jasper in
+domestic affairs--you will rue it if you do--and be quite sure that in
+selecting a house you have a wide entrance-hall, a spacious staircase,
+and a large drawing room."
+
+"But, Auntie, such a house will be beyond our means."
+
+"Tut, tut, my love--the rent _may_ be a few pounds more, but what of
+that? A large entrance-hall is really essential; and as it is easier to
+keep large rooms and wide staircases clean than small ones, your
+servants will have less to do and you will save the extra rent in that
+way. Now here is your great-grandmother's receipt for plum-pudding--two
+dozen eggs, three pounds raisins, one pound citron. Hilda, I
+particularly want to give you a hint about the _spice_ for this pudding;
+ah, and I must speak also about this white soup--it is simply made, and
+at the same time delicious--the stock from two fowls--one pint single
+cream--your father is particularly fond of it. Yes, Susan, what is the
+matter?"
+
+"A parcel for Miss Hilda, ma'am," said the neat parlor-maid. "It has
+come by 'Carter Patterson'; and will you put your name here, please,
+Miss Hilda."
+
+Hilda signed her name obediently, and a square wooden box was brought
+in. It was opened by Aunt Marjorie herself with great solemnity. Judy
+and Babs came and looked on, and there were great expressions of rapture
+when an exquisite afternoon tea-service of Crown Derby was exhibited to
+view.
+
+Wedding presents were pouring in from all quarters. Hilda put this one
+away with the others, and calmly continued her occupation of adding up
+some parochial accounts for her father. She was a very careful
+accountant, and had the makings in her of a good business woman when she
+had gained a little experience.
+
+Aunt Marjorie sat and mumbled little disjointed remarks with regard to
+her niece's future state and subjection. She gave her many hints as to
+when she was to yield to her husband and when she was to firmly uphold
+her own will.
+
+Had Hilda followed out Aunt Marjorie's precepts, or even been greatly
+influenced by them, she and Jasper would have had a very unhappy future,
+but she had a gentle and respectful way of listening to the old lady
+without taking in a great deal that she said. Her thoughts were divided
+now between Jasper and Judy. Her heart felt torn at the thought of
+leaving her little sister, and she had an instinctive feeling, which she
+had never yet put into words, that Judy and Jasper were antagonistic to
+each other, and, what is more, would always remain so.
+
+Judy had seen the Crown Derby service unpacked, and then, in the sober
+fashion which more or less characterized all her actions of late, she
+left the room.
+
+She went up to the bedroom which she and Babs shared together, and
+sitting down by the window, rested her chubby cheek against her hand.
+
+Babs was kneeling down in a distant corner, pulling a doll's bedstead to
+pieces for the express purpose of putting it together again.
+
+"My doll Lily has been very naughty to-day," she said, "and I am going
+to put her to bed. She wouldn't half say her lessons this morning, and
+she deserves to be well punished. What are you thinking of, Judy, and
+why do you pucker up your forehead? It makes you look so cross."
+
+"Never mind about my forehead. I have a lot of things to think of just
+now. I can't be always laughing and talking like you."
+
+Babs paused in the act of putting a sheet on her doll's bed to gaze at
+Judy with great intentness.
+
+"You might tell me what's the matter with you," she said, after a moment
+of silence; "you are not a bit interesting lately; you're always
+thinking and always frowning, unless at night when you are sobbing."
+
+"Oh, don't!" said Judy. "Don't you see what it is, Babs--can't you
+guess?--it is only a week off now."
+
+"What's only a week off?"
+
+"Hilda's wedding. Oh, dear; oh, dear! I wish I were dead; I do wish I
+were dead."
+
+Babs did not think this remark of poor Judy's worth replying to. She
+gravely finished making her doll's bed, tucked Lily up comfortably, and
+coming over to the window, knelt down, placed her elbows on the ledge,
+and looked out at the snowy landscape.
+
+"Hasn't Hilda got lots and lots of presents?" she said, after a pause.
+
+"Yes. I don't want to see them, though."
+
+"Everyone is giving her a present," continued Babs, in her calm voice,
+"even Miss Mills and the servants. Susan told me that the schoolchildren
+were collecting money to buy her something, and--may I tell you a
+'mendous big secret, Judy?"
+
+Judy ceased to frown, and looked at Babs with a faint dawning of
+interest in her eyes.
+
+"I has got a present for her too," said Babs, beginning to dance about.
+"I am not going to give it till the day of the wedding. I buyed it my
+own self, and it's _quite_ beautiful. What are you going to give her,
+Judy?"
+
+"Nothing. I haven't any money."
+
+"I have half a sovereign in the Savings Bank, but I can't take it out
+until after I am seven. I wish I could, for I could lend it to you to
+give Hilda a wedding present."
+
+"I wish you could," said Judy. "I'd like awfully to give her something.
+You might tell me what you have got, Babs."
+
+"It's some darning-cotton," said Babs in a whisper. "I buyed it last
+week with twopence-halfpenny; you remember the day I went with Mrs.
+Sutton to town. She said it was a very useful thing, for Hilda will want
+to mend Jasper's socks, and if she hasn't darning-cotton handy maybe
+he'll scold her."
+
+"He wouldn't dare to," said Judy, with a frown; "she _shan't_ mend his
+horrid socks. Why did you get such a nasty wedding present, Babs?"
+
+A flush of delicate color spread all over Babs' little fair face. She
+winked her blue eyes hard to keep back the tears which Judy's scathing
+remarks were bringing to the surface, and said, after a pause:
+
+"It's not a horrid present, it's lovely; and anyhow"--her voice becoming
+energetic as this happy mode of revenge occurred to her--"it is better
+than yours, for you has got nothing at all."
+
+"Oh, I'll have something when the day comes," replied Judy, in a
+would-be careless tone.
+
+"But you hasn't any money."
+
+"Money isn't everything. I'll manage, you'll see."
+
+From this moment Judy's whole heart and soul were absorbed in one fierce
+desire to give Hilda a present which should be better and sweeter and
+more full of love than anybody else's.
+
+After two or three days of anxious thought and nights of troubled
+dreams, she made up her mind what her present should be. It should
+consist of holly berries and ivy, and these holly berries and that ivy
+should be picked by Judy's own fingers, and should be made into a
+bouquet by Judy herself; and the very center of this bouquet should
+contain a love-note--a little twisted note, into which Judy would pour
+some of her soul. It should be given to Hilda at the very last moment
+when she was starting for church; and though she was all in white from
+top to toe--all in pure white, with a bouquet of white flowers in her
+hand--yet she should carry Judy's bouquet, with its thorns and its
+crimson berries, as a token of her little sister's faithful love.
+
+"She shall carry it to church with her," said Judy, with inward passion.
+"I'll make her promise beforehand, and I know she won't break her word
+to me. It will be a little bit of me she'll have with her, even when she
+is giving herself to that horrid Jasper."
+
+The little girl quite cheered up when this idea came to her. She became
+helpful and pleasant once more, and allowed Babs to chatter to her about
+the insect world, which had now practically gone to sleep; and about the
+delights of the time when their chrysalides, which they had put away so
+carefully in the butterfly-case, should burst out into living and
+beautiful things.
+
+The day before the wedding came, and the whole house was in pleasant
+bustle and confusion. Nearly all the presents had arrived by this time.
+The school children had come up to the Rectory in a body to present
+Hilda with a very large and gaudily decorated photographic album; the
+Rectory servants had given the bride-elect a cuckoo-clock; Miss Mills
+had blushed as she presented her with a birth-day book bound in white
+vellum; "Carter Patterson's" people were tired of coming up the avenue
+with box after box; and Aunt Marjorie was tired of counting on her
+fingers the names of the different friends who were sure to remember
+such an important event as Hilda Merton's wedding.
+
+But for Aunt Marjorie, Hilda would have given herself to Jasper in a
+very quiet and unobtrusive fashion. But this idea of a wedding was such
+intense grief to the old lady that Hilda and Jasper, rather against
+their wills, abandoned it, and Hilda was content to screen her lovely
+face behind a white veil, and to go to church decked as a bride should.
+
+"It is positively economical to get a proper wedding dress," said Aunt
+Marjorie; "you'll want it for the parties you'll go to during your first
+season in town, Hilda. Of course Lady Malvern, Jasper's aunt, will
+present you, and the dress with a little alteration will do very well to
+go to the Drawing Room in. I shall desire the dressmaker to make the
+train quite half a yard extra, on purpose."
+
+Aunt Marjorie had her way, and was sufficiently happy in her present
+life to forget the dull days which must follow, and to cease to think
+of the deserted house when Hilda, and wealth, and luxury, went away.
+
+It was the evening before the wedding-day, when Babs came solemnly into
+the room where her sister was sitting, and presented her with her
+wedding gift.
+
+"It's darning-cotton," said Babs, in her gentle, full, satisfied
+fashion. "Sutton said it would be useful, and that Jasper wouldn't scold
+you if you had it handy."
+
+"What treason are you talking, Babs?" asked Quentyns, who was standing
+by Hilda's side.
+
+He stooped down, and mounted her on his shoulder.
+
+"Sutton says that husbands always scold their wives," said Babs.
+
+"Nonsense, child! Sutton doesn't speak the truth. I would far rather
+scold myself than Hilda."
+
+"Well, at any rate here's the cotton. I spent all my money on it except
+the ten shillings in the Savings Bank; and, Hilda, you _will_ use it
+when Jasper's socks get into holes."
+
+"Of course I will, you dear little darling," said Hilda. "I think it is
+a perfectly sweet present. Give it to me; I was just packing my
+work-basket, and in it shall go this minute. I'll think of you every
+time I use a thread of this cotton, Babs."
+
+"Babs, Miss Mills says it is quite time for you to go to bed," said
+Judy, who was standing at the back of Hilda's chair, softly touching her
+bright head from time to time with the tips of her little fingers.
+
+Quentyns laughed when Judy spoke in her solemn voice.
+
+"And what about Judy's time for going to bed?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, I am much older than Babs, and Hilda said----"
+
+"Yes, Jasper; I said Judy should have a little talk with me all by
+myself to-night," said Hilda, putting back her hand and drawing her
+little sister forward. "Here's a tiny bit of my chair for you to sit
+upon, Judy dearest."
+
+"Then I'll take Babs upstairs," said Jasper. "Put your arms tightly
+round my neck, you quaint monkey, and I'll race up to your room with
+you."
+
+"Hilda," said Judy, the moment the door had closed behind the two, "I
+haven't given you my present yet."
+
+"My darling," said Hilda, "when we love as you and I love each other,
+presents mean nothing--nothing at all. I know you have no money,
+dearest little Judy and I think it was so sweet of you not to ask for
+any. Your present to me is your thoughtfulness; no gift could be
+sweeter."
+
+"Hilda, may I rest my head against your shoulder?"
+
+"Of course, darling. Now aren't we cozy?"
+
+"We are; I feel warm now, and--and happy. I won't be able to sit like
+this for a long time again."
+
+"Yes you will, for you're coming to stay with us; as soon as ever we get
+into our house, or our flat, or wherever we shall live, you are to come.
+One of the very first rooms I shall furnish will be your little bedroom,
+my Judy."
+
+"And then I can sit close to you every night. But oh, Hilda, _he'll_ be
+there, he won't like it."
+
+"Yes, he will; he'll like anything that I like. There is an old proverb
+that I must repeat for your benefit--'Love me, love my dog.' That means
+that those whom I love you ought to love."
+
+"Ought I? Very well, I'll try to love--Jasper. Anything that you say
+I'll try to do. Hilda, why does loving a person give pain? I have an
+ache in my heart--a big ache. There now, what a horrid girl I am! I am
+making your eyes fill with tears. You shan't be unhappy just when
+you're going to be made into a beautiful white bride. Sutton says it is
+unlucky for a bride to cry. You shan't cry, Hilda, you shan't--you
+mustn't."
+
+"But I can't help crying, Judy, when I think that you are unhappy, and
+when you speak of your love to me as a pain."
+
+"I'll never speak of it again. I'll be happy--I won't fret--no, I won't
+fret at all, and I won't cry even once," said the child, making a
+valiant effort to bring a smile to her face. "Hilda, will you promise me
+something very, very solemnly?"
+
+"If it is in my power I certainly will, my pet."
+
+"You have not got my wedding present yet, Hilda; but it is coming.
+Promise me----"
+
+"What, darling?"
+
+"Promise to take it to church with you to-morrow--I'll give it to you
+just before church--it will be full of me--my very heart will be in
+it--take it to church with you, Hilda, and hold it in your hand when
+you're giving yourself to Jasper--promise--promise."
+
+"How excited you are, my dearest! If it makes you really happy to know
+that I shall hold something of yours in my hand when I am being married,
+I will certainly do so."
+
+"Oh, it does make me happy, it does!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+A WEDDING PRESENT.
+
+    But my lover will not prize
+    All the glory that he rides in,
+      When he gazes in my face:
+    He will say: "O Love, thine eyes
+    Build the shrine my soul abides in,
+      And I kneel here for thy grace!"
+
+                    --E. BARRETT BROWNING.
+
+
+There was a holly tree not far from the church with berries so red and
+leaves so green and shining that it was generally denuded of its
+beauties to decorate the most important parts of the church.
+
+Judy knew this holly tree well. It had been much crippled in shape and
+color for the Christmas decorations, but one perfect branch had been
+left where the berries still grew in full rich clusters--this special
+branch had not been noticed by the gardener when he was cutting the
+holly for Christmas, and Judy determined that from it she would pick the
+crimson berries which were to constitute Hilda's wedding present.
+
+"Barnes," she said to the old gardener the day before, "you mustn't
+allow anyone to touch my bough of holly."
+
+"Well, Miss Judy, you're a queer child; what bough of holly do you
+mean?"
+
+"The bough on the round tree near the church. I want it most particular
+badly; you won't let anyone pick it--will you, Barnes?"
+
+"No, that I won't," said Barnes, good-naturedly; and Judy, quite
+satisfied and happy in her mind, ran away.
+
+On the wedding morning, just when the day broke, she got softly, very
+softly out of bed. Babs was having happy dreams at the moment, for
+smiles were flitting across her face and her lips were moving. Judy,
+heavy-eyed and pale, rose from her broken slumbers and proceeded to
+dress herself. She must go out now to fetch her holly bough. She could
+dress herself nicely; and putting on a warm jacket she ran downstairs
+and let herself out into the foggy, frosty air. She was warmly clad as
+to her head and throat, but she had not considered it necessary to put
+on her out-door boots. The boots took a long time to lace, and as she
+did not expect to be absent from the house more than ten or twelve
+minutes, she did not think it worth while to go to this trouble.
+
+She ran swiftly now, her heart beating with a certain pleasurable
+excitement. It was so nice to be able to make a beautiful, quaint
+wedding present out of the red berries and the glistening leaves and the
+little note full of love hiding away in their depths. How delighted
+Hilda would be by and by to open that note and to read some of Judy's
+innermost thoughts.
+
+"Even though she has Jasper, she loves me," thought the child. "She will
+know _something_ of what I think of her, the darling, when she has read
+my note."
+
+The little letter, written on a tiny pink sheet of paper, was put away
+all ready in Judy's drawer; she had but to cut the bough of holly and
+her unique wedding present would be almost ready. She reached the tree,
+having to go to it through long grass heavy with hoar frost. Her
+stockings and feet were already very wet, but she thought nothing of
+this fact in her excitement. She had a small knife in her pocket which
+she proceeded to take out in order to cut the bough away--it grew low
+down and she had to pull the grass aside to look for it.
+
+Alack, and alas! where was it, who had taken it? Had wicked, wicked
+Barnes been faithless? There was a torn gash on the trunk of the tree,
+and no long bough red with berries was anywhere to be seen.
+
+Poor little Judy could not help uttering a cry of anguish. Hot anger
+against Barnes swelled up in her heart. Miss Mills was in reality the
+culprit. Knowing nothing of Judy's desire, she had cut the bough late
+the night before for some window decoration.
+
+"I won't go back to the house until I get some holly," thought the
+child. She wiped away her fast-falling tears and set her sharp little
+wits to work. This was the most scarce time in the whole winter for
+holly berries, the greater number of them having been used for church
+and Christmas decorations; but Judy, whose keen eyes noticed Nature in
+all her aspects, suddenly remembered that on the borders of a lake
+nearly a mile away grew another holly tree--a small and unremarkable
+bush which might yet contain sufficient bright berries for her purpose.
+Without an instant's hesitation she determined to walk that mile and
+reach that tree. She must go quickly if she would be back before anyone
+noticed her. She was particularly anxious that her gift should not be
+seen in advance. Running, racing, and scrambling she effected her
+purpose, reached the tree, secured some berries and leaves, and returned
+to the house wet through and very tired.
+
+Babs was rubbing her eyes and stretching her limbs in her snug bed in
+the nursery when her sister came back.
+
+"Oh, Judy, what have you been doing?" she exclaimed, sitting up and
+staring in round-eyed astonishment.
+
+"Hush, Babs," said Judy, "don't speak for a moment--don't say a single
+word until I have locked the door."
+
+"But you oughtn't to lock the door. Miss Mills doesn't wish it."
+
+"I am going to disobey her."
+
+"But you'll be punished."
+
+"I don't care."
+
+The key was turned in the lock, and Judy, going over to Babs' bed,
+exhibited her spoils.
+
+"See," she said, "here's my wedding present."
+
+"Did you go to fetch those holly berries this morning?" asked Babs.
+
+"Yes, I did, and I had to go a long way for them too; that horrid,
+wicked old Barnes had cut away my bough, and I had to go all the way to
+the lake."
+
+"Your feet do look so sloppy and wet."
+
+"So they are, they are soaking; I forgot to put on my boots."
+
+"Oh, won't you catch an awful cold! won't Miss Mills be angry!"
+
+"Never mind; I'll change my stockings and shoes after I have arranged
+my present."
+
+"It's such a funny wedding present," said Babs. "Do you think Hilda will
+like it?"
+
+"She'll do more than like it: she'll love it. Don't talk to me any
+more--I'm too busy to answer you."
+
+Babs fidgeted and mumbled to herself. Judy stood with her back to her.
+She used her little fingers deftly--her taste as to arrangement and
+color was perfect. The sharp thorns pricked her poor little fingers, but
+she was rather glad than otherwise to suffer in Hilda's cause. The
+wedding present was complete, no sign of the note could be seen in the
+midst of the green leaves and crimson berries. Judy unlocked the door
+and tumbled back into bed. Miss Mills knew nothing of her escapade, for
+Babs was far too stanch to betray her.
+
+Just as Hilda in a cloud of white was stepping into the carriage to go
+to church that morning, a little figure, also in cloudy white with
+wide-open greeny-gray eyes, under which heavy dark marks were already
+visible, rushed up to her and thrust something into her hand.
+
+"Your--your wedding present, Hilda," gasped Judy. The strong colors of
+the red and green made almost a blot upon Hilda's fairness. Her father,
+who was accompanying her to church, interposed.
+
+"Stand back, my dear, stand back, Judy," he said. "Hilda, you had better
+leave those berries in the hall; you're surely not going to take them to
+church."
+
+"Your promise, Hilda, your faithful promise," said Judy in an imploring
+voice.
+
+Hilda looked at the child; she remembered her words of the night before,
+and holding the prickly little bunch firmly, said in a gentle voice:
+
+"I particularly want to take Judy's present to church with me, father."
+
+"As you like, my love, of course; but it is not at all in keeping with
+that lovely bouquet of hot-house white flowers sent to you by Lady
+Dellacoeur."
+
+"Then, if so, Lady Dellacoeur's flowers shall stay at home," said
+Hilda. She tossed the splendid bouquet on the hall table, and with
+Judy's holly berries in her hand, sprang into the carriage.
+
+"Isn't she a darling?" said Judy, turning with eyes that glowed in their
+happiness to Miss Mills.
+
+"A goose, I call her," muttered Miss Mills; but Judy neither heard nor
+heeded her words.
+
+The little church was nearly full of spectators, and one and all did
+not fail to remark Judy's wedding present. A bride in white from top to
+toe--a lovely bride in the tenderest bloom of youth, to carry a bouquet
+of strong dark green and crimson--had anything so incongruous ever been
+seen before? But Hilda held the flowers tightly, and Judy's hungry heart
+was satisfied.
+
+"Good-by, my darling," said Hilda to her little sister a couple of hours
+later; "good-by, Judy; my first letter shall be to you, and I will
+carefully keep your dear wedding present."
+
+"Hilda, Hilda, there's a little note inside of it, in the heart of it;
+you'll read it, won't you, and you won't show it to Jasper?"
+
+"If you wish me not, I won't, dearest. How hot your lips are, Judy, and
+how flushed your face."
+
+"I am just a wee bit shivery," said Judy, "but it's nothing, nothing at
+all. I'll promise you not to fret, Hilda. Good-by, dear, dear, darling
+Hilda."
+
+"Good-by, my sweetest little treasure, good-by."
+
+Hilda got into the carriage; her husband took his place by her side.
+Mildred Anstruther tossed a great shower of rice after them, Miss Mills
+and Babs hurled slippers down the avenue, Judy was nowhere to be seen.
+
+"Hilda," said Quentyns, as they were driving to the station, "why did
+you have such a very funny bouquet in church? You showed me Lady
+Dellacoeur's flowers last night. Why didn't you wear them, darling?
+Those harsh holly berries and leaves weren't in your usual taste."
+
+"But you're not angry with me for carrying that little bouquet, Jasper,
+are you?"
+
+"My darling, could I be angry with you for anything?"
+
+"The little bunch of holly was Judy's wedding present," said Hilda,
+tears dimming her eyes; "I promised her that I would wear them. Sweet
+little darling, my heart aches at leaving her."
+
+Quentyns took Hilda's hand and held it firmly within his own. He said
+some sympathetic words, for Hilda's slightest grief was grief to him,
+but in his heart he could not help murmuring:
+
+"That tiresome, morbid child. Poor darling Hilda, I must show her very
+gently and gradually how terribly she is spoiling Judy."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+HONEYMOON.
+
+    The night is in her hair
+      And giveth shade for shade,
+    And the pale moonlight on her forehead white
+      Like a spirit's hand is laid;
+    Her lips part with a smile
+      Instead of speakings done:
+    I ween, she thinketh of a voice,
+      Albeit uttering none.
+
+                    --MRS. BARRETT BROWNING.
+
+
+A month later Mrs. Quentyns was sitting in one of the largest hotels at
+Rome waiting for her husband to come in. The day was so balmy and genial
+that it was almost impossible for Hilda to believe that the time of year
+was early February. Dressed in dark-green velvet, with a creamy feather
+boa lying by her side, Hilda sat amidst all her unaccustomed
+surroundings, her eyes looking straight down the lofty room and her
+thoughts far away. The bride was thinking of her English home--she was
+an intensely happy bride--she loved her husband devotedly--she looked
+forward to a good and blessed life by his side, but still (and to her
+credit be it spoken) she could not forget old times. In the Rectory
+gardens now the crocuses and snowdrops were putting out their first
+dark-green leaves, and showing their tender petals to the faint winter
+sunshine. Judy and Babs, wrapped in furs from top to toe, were taking
+their afternoon walk--Babs was looking in vain for insect life in the
+hedges, and Judy was opening her big eyes wide to see the first green
+bud that ventured to put out its little tip to be greeted by the winter
+cold. Aunt Marjorie was learning to make use of her legs, and was
+glowing with warmth of body and vexation of spirit. The Rector was
+tranquilly writing a sermon which, notwithstanding its polished diction,
+should yet show the workings of a new spirit which would move his
+congregation on Sunday.
+
+Hilda seemed to see the whole picture--but her mind's eye rested longest
+on the figure of the tall, rather overgrown child, whose eyes always
+wore too hungry an expression for perfect happiness.
+
+"Little darling," murmured Hilda, "how I wish I had her with me
+here--she'd appreciate things so wonderfully. It is the greatest treat
+in the world to take Judy to see a really good picture--how her eyes
+shine in her dear face when she looks at it. My sweet little Judy,
+Jasper does not care for me to talk much to you, but I love you with all
+my heart and soul; it is the one drawback to my perfect happiness that I
+must be parted from you."
+
+Hilda rose as she spoke, and going over to a table on which her
+traveling-bag stood, opened it, pressed the spring on a certain lock,
+and taking out a little crumpled, stained letter, read the words written
+on it.
+
+    "My darling Hilda [wrote the poor little scribe], this is to say
+    that I love you better than anyone else in the world. I'll
+    always go on loving you best of all. Please take a thousand
+    million kisses, and never forget Judy.
+
+    "P. S.--I'll pray for you every day and every night. I hope you
+    will be very happy. I won't fret if you don't. This letter is
+    packed with love.
+
+                    "JUDY."
+
+A step was heard along the passage; Hilda folded up the letter, slipped
+it back into its hiding place, and ran down the long room to meet her
+husband.
+
+"Well, my darling," he exclaimed; "the English mail has just come in,
+and here's a budget for you."
+
+"And a budget for you too, Jasper. What a heap of letters!"
+
+"Yes, and one of them is from Rivers. He rather wants me in London:
+there's a good case coming on at the Law Courts; he says I shall be
+counsel for it if I'm in town. What do you say to coming back to London
+on Saturday, Hilda?"
+
+"You know I shall be only too delighted; I am just pining to be home
+again. Do you think we could go down to the Rectory? I should so like to
+spend Sunday there."
+
+"My darling, what are you thinking of? I want to be in London, not in
+Hampshire. Now that I have got you, sweetheart, I must neglect no chance
+of work."
+
+Hilda's face turned slightly pale.
+
+"Of course, darling," she said, looking up sweetly at her tall husband;
+"but where are we to go on Saturday night? You spoke of going home."
+
+"And so we are going home, my love--or rather we are going toward home;
+but as we have not taken a house yet, we must spend a week with the
+Malverns when first we get to England. I will send a line to my aunt,
+and tell her to expect us on Saturday."
+
+Hilda said nothing more. She smothered the ghost of a sigh, and sitting
+down by the wood fire, which, notwithstanding the genial weather, was
+acceptable enough in their lofty room, began to open her letters. The
+Rectory budget was of course first attended to. It contained several
+inclosures--one from her father, which was short and principally
+occupied over a review of the last new theological book he had been
+reading, one from Aunt Marjorie, and one from Miss Mills.
+
+"None from Judy," said Hilda, in a voice of surprise; "she has only
+written to me once since we were married."
+
+She spoke aloud, and looked up at her husband for sympathy. He was
+reading a letter of his own, and its contents seemed to amuse him, for
+he broke into a hearty laugh.
+
+"What is it, Jasper?" asked Hilda. "What is amusing you?"
+
+"Something Rivers has said, my love. I'll tell you presently. Capital
+fellow he is; if I get this brief I shall be in tremendous luck."
+
+Hilda opened Aunt Marjorie's letter and began to read. The old lady was
+a somewhat rambling correspondent. Her letters were always closely
+written and voluminous. Hilda had to strain her young eyes to decipher
+all the sentences.
+
+    "I must say I dislike poverty [wrote Aunt Marjorie]; you are
+    well out of it, Hilda. It is my private conviction that your
+    father has absolutely forgotten that his income has jumped down
+    in a single day from three thousand three hundred and fifty
+    pounds a year to the three hundred and fifty without the odd
+    thousands; he goes on just as he has always done, and is
+    perfectly happy. Dean Sharp sent him his last book a week ago,
+    and he has done nothing but read it and talk of it ever
+    since--his conversation in consequence is most tiresome. I miss
+    you awfully, my love. I never could stand theology, even when I
+    was surrounded by comforts, and now when I have to stint the
+    fires and suffer from cold feet, you may imagine how unpleasant
+    it is to me. My dear Hilda, I am afraid I shall not be able to
+    keep Miss Mills, she seems to get sillier every day; it is my
+    private conviction that she has a love affair on, but she's as
+    mum as possible about it. Poor Sutton cried in a most
+    heartrending way when she left; she said when leaving, 'I'll
+    never get another mistress like you, ma'am, for you never
+    interfere, even to the clearing of the jellies.' I am glad she
+    appreciates me, I didn't think she did while she was living with
+    us. The new cook can't attempt anything in the way of soup, so
+    I have given it up for dinner; but your father never appears to
+    miss it. The garden is looking horrible, so many weeds about.
+    The Anstruthers have all gone up to London--taken a house for
+    the season at an enormous price. How those people do squander
+    money; may they never know what it is for it to take to itself
+    wings!
+
+    "By the way, Judy has not been well; she caught cold or
+    something the day of your wedding, and was laid up with a nasty
+    little feverish attack and cough. We had to send for Dr. Harvey,
+    who said she had a chill, and was a good deal run down. She's up
+    again now, but looks like a ghost with her big eyes. She
+    certainly is a most peculiar child--I don't pretend to
+    understand her. She crept into the room a minute ago, and I told
+    her I was writing to you, and asked her if she had any message.
+    She got pink all over just as if she were going to cry, and then
+    said:
+
+    "'Tell Hilda that I am not fretting a bit, that I am as happy as
+    possible. Give her my dear love and heaps of kisses' (my dear
+    Hilda, you must take them for granted, for I am not going to put
+    crosses all over the letter).
+
+    "Then she ran out of the room as if she had nothing further to
+    say--really a most queer child. Babs is a little treasure and
+    the comfort of my life.
+
+                    "Your affectionate old Aunt,
+                          "MARJORIE."
+
+"Jasper!" said Hilda, in a choked sort of voice. "Jasper!"
+
+"What is it, my darling? Why, how queer you look, your face is quite
+white!"
+
+"It is about Judy; she's not well!" said Hilda. "I ought to go to her, I
+ought not to delay. Couldn't we catch the night mail?"
+
+"Good gracious!" said Quentyns, alarmed by Hilda's manner. "What is
+wrong with the child? If it is anything infectious----"
+
+"No, no, it is nothing of that sort; but in any case, whatever it is, I
+ought to go to her--I ought not to delay. May I telegraph to say we are
+starting at once?"
+
+"My darling, how excitable you are! What can be wrong with the child?"
+
+"Oh, Jasper, you don't understand--Aunt Marjorie says----Here, read
+this bit."
+
+"I can't read that crabbed, crossed writing, Hilda."
+
+"Well, I'll read it aloud to you; see where it begins--'Judy has not
+been well----'"
+
+Hilda read the whole passage, a lump in her throat almost choking her
+voice. When she had finished, Quentyns put his arms round her and drew
+her to his heart.
+
+"Why, you poor little, foolish, nervous creature," he said, "there's
+nothing wrong with Judy now; she was ill, but she's much better. My
+darling Hilda--my love, you must really not disturb yourself about a
+trifling mishap of this sort."
+
+"It isn't a trifle, Jasper. Oh, I know Judy--I know how she looks and
+what she feels. Oh, do, do let me go back to her, darling."
+
+"You read that letter in such a perturbed sort of voice that I can
+scarcely follow its meanings," said Quentyns. "Here, give it to me, and
+let me see for myself what it is all about. Why will old ladies write
+such villainous hands? Where does the passage begin, Hilda? Sit down,
+darling, quiet yourself. Now let me see, here it is--'Judy has not been
+well----'"
+
+Hilda's hands had shaken with nervousness while she read her aunt's
+letter aloud, but Quentyns held the sheet of thin paper steadily. As the
+sentences fell from his lips, his full tones seemed to put new meaning
+into them--the ghostly terrors died out of Hilda's heart. When her
+husband laid down the sheet of paper, and turned to her with a
+triumphant smile, she could not help smiling back at him in return.
+
+"There," he said, "did not I tell you there was nothing wrong with Judy
+now? What a little goose you are!"
+
+"I suppose I am; and if you really, really think--if you are quite sure
+that she's all right----"
+
+"Of course, I am absolutely certain; doesn't Aunt Marjorie say so? The
+fact is, Hilda, you make too great a fuss about that little sister of
+yours--I feel almost jealous of her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+STARVED.
+
+    If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
+    And be all to me? Shall I never miss
+    Home-talk and blessing and the common kiss?
+
+                    --E. BARRETT BROWNING.
+
+
+In the first pleasant spring-time of that same year, Mrs. Anstruther, a
+very gay and fashionable-looking woman of between forty and fifty years
+of age, turned on a certain morning to her daughter and made a remark:
+
+"Don't forget that we must pay some calls this afternoon, Mildred."
+
+Mildred was standing by the window of their beautiful drawing room. The
+window-boxes had just been filled with lovely spring flowers; she was
+bending over them and with deft fingers arranging the blossoms and
+making certain small alterations, which had the effect of grouping the
+different masses of color more artistically than the gardener had done.
+
+"Yes, mother," she said, half turning her handsome head and glancing
+back at her parent. "We are to make calls. I am quite agreeable."
+
+"I wish you would take an interest, Mildred; it is so unpleasant going
+about with people who are only just 'quite agreeable.' Now, when I was a
+young girl----"
+
+"Oh, please, mother, don't! The times have completely changed since you
+were young; enthusiasm has gone out of fashion. I am nothing if I am not
+fashionable! Of course, if calls have to be made, I shall make them.
+I'll put on my most becoming bonnet, and my prettiest costume, and I'll
+sit in the carriage by your side, and enter the houses of those friends
+who happen to be at home, and I'll smile and look agreeable, and people
+will say, 'What an amiable woman Miss Anstruther is!' I'll do the
+correct thing of _course_, only I suppose it is not necessary for my
+heart to go pitter-patter over it. By the way, have you made out a list
+of the unfortunates who are to be victimized by our presence this
+afternoon?"
+
+Mrs. Anstruther sighed, and gazed in some discontent at her daughter.
+
+"It is so disagreeable not to understand people," she said. "I don't
+profess to understand you, Mildred. If you will give me my visiting-book
+I can soon tell you the places where we ought to go. And oh, by the way,
+should we not call on Hilda Quentyns? she has taken a house somewhere in
+West Kensington."
+
+"You don't mean to tell me that the Quentyns are in town?" said
+Mildred, turning sharply round and gazing at her mother.
+
+"Of course; they have been in London for some time. I met Lady Malvern
+yesterday, and she gave me Hilda's address. She seems to have gone to
+live in a very poky place. See, I have entered the name in my
+address-book--10, Philippa Road, West Kensington."
+
+"Then of course we'll go to her--that will be _really_ nice," said
+Mildred with enthusiasm. "We might go to Hilda first and spend some
+little time with her."
+
+"But Mrs. Milward's 'at home' begins quite early. I should not like to
+miss that."
+
+"Who cares for Mrs. Milward! Look here, mother, suppose _you_ pay the
+calls and let me go and see Hilda. I have a good deal I want to talk
+over with her; for one thing, I want to say something about Judy."
+
+"Poor, queer little Judy," said Mrs. Anstruther with a laugh. "What can
+you possibly have to say about her?"
+
+"I don't think Judy is at all well," said Mildred. "There is such a
+thing as dying of heart-hunger. If ever a child suffered from that
+old-fashioned complaint, it is that poor mite at Little Staunton
+Rectory."
+
+"My dear Mildred, you get more absurd every day. Judy lives in a most
+comfortable home, for notwithstanding their poverty, old Aunt Marjorie
+manages to keep everything going in really respectable style. The child
+has a loving father, a devoted aunt, a dear little sister, and an
+excellent governess, and you talk of her dying of heart-hunger! It is
+absurd."
+
+"Nevertheless," said Mildred,--she stopped abruptly, her bright eyes
+looked across the room and out through the open window,--"nevertheless,"
+she said, giving her foot an impatient tap, "I should like to see Hilda.
+I should like to have a long talk with her. I have heard nothing about
+her since her wedding, so by your leave, mother, I'll drive over to West
+Kensington immediately after lunch and send the victoria back for you."
+
+Mrs. Anstruther, who was always more or less like wax in the hands of
+her strong-minded daughter, was obliged somewhat unwillingly to submit
+to this arrangement; and Mildred, charmingly dressed and looking young
+and lovely, was bowled rapidly away in the direction of Hilda Quentyns'
+humble home soon after two o'clock.
+
+"It will be pleasant to take the poor old dear by surprise," said
+Mildred to herself. "There was a time when I felt jealous of her good
+fortune in having secured Jasper Quentyns, but, thank goodness, I have
+quite got over the assaults of the green-eyed monster now. Ah, here we
+are. What a queer little street!--what frightfully new and yet
+picturesque houses! They look like dove-cotes. I wonder if this pair of
+turtle-doves coo in their nest all day long."
+
+The footman jumped down and rang the doorbell. In a moment a
+neatly-dressed but very young looking servant stood in the open doorway.
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Quentyns was at home," she said, and Mildred entered Hilda's
+pretty house.
+
+She went into the drawing room, and stood somewhat impatiently waiting
+for her hostess to appear. The little room was furnished with an eye to
+artistic effect, the walls were decorated with good taste. The furniture
+was new, as well as pretty. One beautiful photogravure from Burne Jones'
+"Wheel of Fortune" was hung over the mantelpiece. Hilda and Quentyns,
+faithfully represented by an Italian photographer, stood side by side in
+a little frame on one of the brackets. Mildred felt herself drawing one
+or two heavy sighs.
+
+"I don't know what there is about this little room, but I like it," she
+murmured; "nay, more, I love it. I can fancy good people inhabiting it.
+I am quite certain that Love has not yet flown out of the window. I am
+quite sure, too, of another thing, that even if Poverty does come in at
+this door, Love will remain. Oh, silly Hilda, what have you to do with
+the 'Wheel of Fortune'? your position is assured; you dwell safely
+enthroned in the heart of a good man. Oh, happy Hilda!"
+
+The door was opened, and Hilda Quentyns smiling, with roses on her
+cheeks and words of delighted welcome on her lips, rushed into the room.
+
+"How sweet of you to call, Mildred," she exclaimed. "I was just
+wondering if you would take any notice of me."
+
+"You dear creature," said Mildred, kissing Hilda and patting her on the
+shoulder. "Two hours ago I heard for the first time that you were in
+London. I ate my lunch and ordered the victoria, and put on my prettiest
+bonnet and drove over to see you as fast as ever the horses would bring
+me. I could not well pay my respects to Mrs. Quentyns in a shorter
+time."
+
+"I am very glad to see you," said Hilda.
+
+"How childish you look," replied Mildred, gazing at her in a rather
+dissatisfied way; "you have no responsibilities at all now, your Jasper
+takes the weight of everything, and you live in perpetual sunshine. Is
+the state of bliss as blissful as we have always been led to imagine,
+Hilda, or are the fairy tales untrue, and does the prince only exist in
+one's imagination?"
+
+"Oh, no, he is real, quite real," said Hilda. "I am as happy as it is
+possible for a human being to be. Jasper--but I won't talk of him--you
+know what I really think of him. Now let me show you my house. Isn't it
+a sweet little home? Wasn't it good of Jasper to come here? He wanted a
+flat, but when he saw that my heart was set on a little house, he took
+this. Don't you like our taste in furniture, Milly? Oh, Milly dear, I
+_am_ glad to see you. It is nice to look at one of the dear home-faces
+again."
+
+"Come and show me your house," said Mildred; "I am going to stay a long
+time--all the afternoon, if possible."
+
+"I am more than glad; you must remain to dinner. I will telegraph to
+Jasper to come home early."
+
+"I don't mind if I do," said Mildred. "I have no very special
+engagements for this evening, and even if I had I should be disposed to
+break them. It is not often one gets the chance of spending an hour in a
+nest with two turtle-doves."
+
+"Come, come," said Hilda, "that sounds as if you were laughing at us.
+Now you shall see the house, and then we'll have tea together, and you
+must tell me all about the old place."
+
+The turtle-doves' nest was a very minute abode. There was only one
+story, and the bed-rooms in consequence were small and few.
+
+"Aren't we delightfully economical?" said Hilda, throwing open the door
+of her own room. "Is not this wee chamber the perfection of snugness?
+and this is Jasper's dressing room, and here is such a dear little
+bath-room; and this is the spare-room (we have not furnished it yet, but
+Jasper says we can't afford to have many visitors, so I'm not making any
+special haste). And this is our servants'-room; I did not think when we
+lived at Little Staunton that two servants could fit into such a tiny
+closet, but these London girls seem quite to like it. Now, Mildred, come
+downstairs. You have looked over this thimbleful of a house, and I hope
+it has pleased you. Come downstairs and let us talk. I am starving for
+news."
+
+"Well, my dear, begin catechising to your heart's content," said
+Mildred. She threw herself back into the easiest of the easy-chairs as
+she spoke, and toasted her feet before Hilda's cheerful fire. "What do
+you want to know first, Mrs. Quentyns?"
+
+"How long is it since you left home--when did you see them all?"
+
+"I was at home a fortnight ago, and I spent the greater part of one
+afternoon at the Rectory."
+
+"Oh, did you? Is it awfully changed?"
+
+"No; the house is _in statu quo_. It looks just as handsome and stately
+and unconcerned as of old. Aunt Marjorie says it is full of dust, but I
+did not notice any. Aunt Marjorie has got quite a new wrinkle between
+her brows, and she complains a great deal of the young cook, but my
+private opinion is that that unfortunate cook is your aunt's salvation,
+for she gives her something else to think of besides the one perpetual
+grievance."
+
+"Oh, yes, yes," said Hilda, a little impatiently, "poor dear Aunt
+Maggie; and what about the others? How is my father?"
+
+"He looks thin, and his hair is decidedly silvered; but his eyes just
+beamed at me with kindness. He never spoke once about the change in his
+circumstances, and on Sunday he preached a sermon which set me crying."
+
+"Dear Mildred, I think father's sermons were always beautiful. How I
+should like to hear him once again!"
+
+"So you will, of course, very soon; they're all expecting you down. Why
+don't you go?"
+
+The faintest shadow of a cloud flitted across Hilda's face.
+
+"Jasper is so busy," she said.
+
+"Well, go without him. I am quite convinced you would do them a sight of
+good."
+
+"Jasper does not like me to leave him," said Hilda; "we both intend to
+run down to the Rectory for a flying visit soon, but he is so busy just
+at present that he cannot fix a day. Go on, Milly, tell me about the
+others. What of Babs?"
+
+"I saw her squatting down on the middle of the floor with a blind kitten
+just three days old in her lap. The kitten squalled frightfully, and
+Babs kept on calling it 'poor, _pretty_ darling.' I thought badly of the
+kitten's future prospects, but well of its nurse's; she looked
+particularly flourishing."
+
+"And Judy?" said Hilda, "she wasn't well a little time ago, but Aunt
+Marjorie has said nothing about her health lately. Has she quite, quite
+recovered? Did she look ill? Did you see much of her?"
+
+"She was sitting in the ingle-nook, reading a book."
+
+"Reading a book!" said Hilda; "but Judy does not like reading. Was the
+day wet when you called at the Rectory?"
+
+"No; the sun was shining all the time."
+
+"Why wasn't she out scampering and running all the time, and hunting for
+grubs?"
+
+"She had a cough, not much, just a little hack, and Aunt Marjorie
+thought she had better stay indoors."
+
+"Then she is _not_ quite well!"
+
+"Aunt Marjorie says she is, and that the hack is nothing at all. By the
+way, Hilda, if your husband won't spare you to go down to the Rectory,
+why don't you have that child here on a visit? Nothing in the world
+would do her so much good as a sight of your face."
+
+"Oh, I know, I know; my little Judy, my treasure! But the spare-room is
+not ready, and Jasper is so prudent, he won't go in debt for even a
+shilling's-worth. He has spent all his available money on the house
+furnishing, and says the spare-room must wait for a month or so. As soon
+as ever it is furnished, Judy is to be the first guest."
+
+"Can't you hire a little bedstead of some sort?" said Mildred, "and put
+it up in that room, and send for the child. What does Judy care about
+furnished rooms!"
+
+"You think she looks really ill, do you, Mildred?"
+
+"I will be candid with you, Hilda. I did not like her look--she suffers.
+It is sad to read suffering in a child's eyes. When I got a peep into
+Judy's eyes I could see that her soul was drooping for want of
+nourishment. She is without that particular thing which is essential to
+her."
+
+"And what is that?"
+
+"Your love. Do send for her, Hilda. Never mind whether the spare-room is
+furnished or not."
+
+Hilda sat and fidgeted with her gold chain. Her face, which had been
+full of smiles and dimples, was now pale with emotion, her eyes were
+full of trouble.
+
+"Why are you so irresolute?" asked Mildred impatiently.
+
+"Oh, I--I don't know. I am not quite my own mistress. I--I must think."
+
+The servant entered the room with a letter on a little salver. Hilda
+took it up.
+
+"Why, this is from Judy," she exclaimed. "Perhaps she's much better
+already. Do you mind my reading it, Mildred?"
+
+"Read it, certainly. I shall like to know how the dear queer mite is
+getting on."
+
+Hilda opened her letter, and, taking out a tiny pink sheet, read a few
+words written on it.
+
+    "MY DEAR HILDA:
+
+    "I am writing you a little letter. I hope you are quite well. I
+    don't fret, and I hope you don't. I think of you and never
+    forget you. I give you a kiss for now and for to-night, and for
+    every other night, and a million, thousand kisses for always.
+
+                    "Your loving
+                          "JUDY."
+
+    "Here are my kisses."
+
+A whole lot of crosses and round o's followed.
+
+    "Here is my tex for us both. 'The Lord wach between me and
+    thee.'
+
+                    "JUDY."
+
+Hilda's eyes filled with sudden tears.
+
+"There is something else in the envelope," she exclaimed. "I think a
+scrawl from Aunt Marjorie. I had a volume from her yesterday. I wonder
+what she wants to write about again."
+
+    "MY DARLING HILDA:
+
+    "Now don't be frightened, my dear, but I have something to tell
+    you which I think you ought to know. Our dear little Judy
+    fainted in a rather alarming way in church yesterday. Of course
+    we sent for the doctor, and he says she is very weak, and must
+    stay in bed for a day or two. He says we need not be alarmed,
+    but that her strength is a good deal run down, and that she must
+    have been fretting about something. It just shows how little
+    doctors know, for I _never_ saw the child sweeter, or more
+    gentle, or more easily amused. You know what a troublesome
+    little creature she used to be, always flashing about and
+    upsetting things, and bringing all kinds of obnoxious insects
+    into the house; but she has been just like a lamb since your
+    wedding, sitting contentedly by my side, looking over her fairy
+    story-books, and assuring me she wasn't fretting in the least
+    about you, and that she was perfectly happy. Babs did say that
+    she heard her crying now and then at night, but I fancy the
+    child must have been mistaken, for Judy certainly would not
+    conceal any trouble from me. I will write to you again about her
+    to-morrow. She directed this envelope to you herself yesterday
+    morning before church, so I am slipping my letter into it. Don't
+    be frightened, dear, we are taking all possible care of her.
+
+                    "Your affectionate
+                          "AUNT MARJORIE."
+
+"There," said Hilda, looking up with a queer, terrified expression in
+her eyes, "I knew how it would be. I married Jasper to please myself,
+and I have killed Judy. Judy's heart is broken. Oh, what shall I do,
+Milly, what shall I do?"
+
+"Let me read Aunt Marjorie's letter," said Mildred.
+
+Her quick, practical eyes glanced rapidly over the old lady's illegible
+writing.
+
+"I don't think you have killed her, Hilda," said Miss Anstruther then,
+"but she is simply fading away for want of the love which was her life.
+Go back to her; go back at once, and she will revive. Come, there is not
+a moment to be lost. I'll run out and send a telegram to Little
+Staunton. I'll tell them to expect you this evening. Where's an A B C?
+Have you got one?"
+
+"I think there is one on the wagon in the dining room. I'll fetch it."
+
+Hilda ran out of the room; she brought back the time-table in a moment.
+Her face was white; her hands shook so that she could scarcely turn the
+leaves.
+
+"Let me find the place," said Mildred. "There, let me see. Oh, what a
+pity, you have lost the four o'clock train, and there isn't another
+until seven. Never mind, say you will take that one. You'll arrive at
+Bickley at twenty minutes to ten, and soon after ten you'll be at the
+Rectory. I'll run at once and send off the telegram, for the sooner
+Judy's heart is relieved the better."
+
+Mildred rushed to the davenport, filled in a telegraph-form, and brought
+it to Hilda to read.
+
+"There, is that right?" she exclaimed. "Put your name to it if you are
+satisfied."
+
+Hilda dashed the tears, which were still blinding her eyes, away.
+
+"Yes, yes," she exclaimed, "that will do. Take it at once, this moment,
+before--before I have time to change my mind."
+
+Mildred had written, "Tell Judy to expect me at ten to-night." Hilda
+added her name, and Mildred prepared to leave the room.
+
+"Good-by, Hilda," she said. "I won't come back, for you will need all
+your time to pack, and to leave things in order for your Jasper.
+Good-by, dear. Of course, you could not _think_ of changing your mind,
+it would be wicked, cruel; yes, it would be terribly cruel. Good-by,
+Hilda, good-by."
+
+Mildred seated herself in the victoria and desired her coachman to drive
+to the nearest telegraph-office.
+
+"I have made a discovery," she said, under her breath. "Jasper Quentyns
+was not the prince; no, _my_ prince has not yet shown his shining face
+above the horizon. Doubtless he will never come; but better that than to
+think he has arrived and wake to find him common clay. Hilda is
+absolutely _afraid_ of her husband. No, Hilda, I would not be in your
+shoes for a good deal."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+WAITING.
+
+    The days are clear,
+      Day after day,
+    When April's here,
+      That leads to May,
+    And June
+      Must follow soon.
+    Stay, June, stay!
+      If only we could stop the moon
+      And June!
+
+
+It was an April day, but the weather was still cold at Little Staunton,
+and Aunt Marjorie thought it well to have a nice bright fire burning in
+Judy's bedroom.
+
+Judy was sitting up in bed, her hair was combed back from her face, she
+wore a pink dressing-gown, the black shadows under her eyes were not so
+marked as yesterday, her firm little lips had an expression of extreme
+and touching patience. Judy's movements were somewhat languid, and her
+voice when she spoke had lost its high, glad pitch.
+
+Aunt Marjorie kept coming in and out of the room. Miss Mills fussed with
+the fire, went to the window to look out over the landscape and to make
+the same remark many times.
+
+"How late the spring is this year," said the governess, in her dreary
+monotone.
+
+Babs stood with her back to Judy, sorting a cabinet full of curiosities.
+There was no shadow of any sorrow on Babs' serene face--her full
+contented voice prattled on interminably.
+
+A drawing-board lay on Judy's bed, a sheet of drawing-paper, two or
+three pencils, and a thick piece of india-rubber lay by her side. For
+over an hour she had been drawing industriously. A pink color came into
+her cheeks as she worked, and Aunt Marjorie said to herself:
+
+"The child is all right--she just needed a little rest--she'll soon be
+as well as possible. I'll go downstairs now, and write to Hilda about
+her."
+
+Miss Mills also thought that Judy looked better. Miss Mills was still
+guilty of keeping up a somewhat one-sided correspondence with the person
+whom she so cordially hated--she had not heard from him for nearly a
+month, and thought that the present would be a good opportunity to write
+another letter to remind him of her existence. So, glancing at Judy as
+she went, she also left the room.
+
+The door was shut carefully, and the two little sisters were alone. When
+this happened, Judy threw down her pencils and gave utterance to a
+faint, quickly-smothered sigh.
+
+"Why do you do it so softly?" said Babs, not troubling herself to turn
+her face, but still keeping her stout back to her sister.
+
+"Do what so softly?" asked Judy.
+
+"Those groans to yourself. Aunt Marjorie won't believe that you ever
+groan, and I _know_ you do. She said you was as happy as the day is
+long, and I said you _wasn't_. You know you do sob at night, or you have
+she-cups or something."
+
+"Look here," said Judy, "it's very, very, _very_ unkind of you, Babs, to
+tell Aunt Marjorie what I do at night. I didn't think you'd be so
+awfully mean. I am ill now, and Aunt Maggie would do anything for me,
+and I'll ask her to put you to sleep in Miss Mills' room, if ever you
+tell what I do at night again."
+
+"I'll never tell if you don't wish me to," said Babs, in her easy tones.
+"You may sob so that you may be heard down in the drawing room and I
+won't tell. Look here, Judy, I have found your old knife."
+
+"What old knife?"
+
+"The one you saved that animal with last autumn, don't you remember?"
+
+"Oh, yes, yes--the _dear_ little earwig. Do let me see the knife, Babs;
+I thought I had lost it."
+
+"No, it was in the back of your cabinet, just under all the peacock's
+feathers. Wasn't the earwig glad when you saved her?"
+
+"Yes," said Judy, smiling, "didn't she run home fast to her family? She
+was sticking in the wood and couldn't get out, poor darling, but my dear
+little knife cut the wood away and then she ran home. Oh, didn't she go
+fast!"
+
+"Yes, didn't she?" said Babs, laughing. "I think earwigs are such
+_sweet_ little animals, don't you, Judy?"
+
+"Insects, you mean," said Judy. "Oh, yes, I love them special because
+most people hate the poor dears."
+
+"What are you drawing, Judy? What a queer, queer picture!"
+
+"I'm going to call it 'Where the nasty fairies live,'" said Judy, "but I
+haven't finished it. Babs, how long is it since Hilda went away?"
+
+"Weeks, and weeks, and weeks," replied Babs. "I has almost forgotten how
+long."
+
+"Years and years, you mean," said Judy.
+
+The little pink flush of excitement faded out of her cheeks, her eyes
+looked hollow, the shadow under them grew darker than ever.
+
+There came a rush along the passage, and Aunt Marjorie, puffing with
+the haste she had used, but trying to walk slowly and to speak calmly,
+entered the room.
+
+"Judy, my darling," she said, "I have very good news for you."
+
+"For me," said Judy, flushing and paling almost in the same moment.
+
+"Yes, my dear little pet, very nice news. Your darling Hilda is coming."
+
+"Aunt Maggie!"
+
+"Yes, here's a telegram from her. She says in it, '_Tell Judy to expect
+me at ten to-night_.' Why, my darling, how white you are! Babs, run and
+fetch me those smelling-salts. Now, Judy, just one whiff. Ah, now you're
+better."
+
+"Yes, auntie, much, much, _much_ better. I am only awfully happy."
+
+Judy smiled, and the tears rushed to her eyes; her little thin hand
+trembled, she tried to push her drawing materials away.
+
+"Please may I have the telegram?" she asked.
+
+"Of course you may, my darling. Oh, and here comes kind Miss Mills with
+your chicken-broth. Just the thing to set you up. Drink it off, dear.
+Miss Mills, our sweet Hilda is coming to-night. I have just had a
+telegram, she'll be here about ten."
+
+"Who's to meet her?" asked Miss Mills. "You forget that there are no
+horses in the stables now, and no carriage in the coach-house."
+
+"I did forget," said Aunt Marjorie. "I must send a message to Stephens
+to take a fly to the station."
+
+"I'll go and tell him as soon as ever tea is over," answered Miss Mills.
+"Ah, Judy! You'll soon be well now, Judy, won't you?"
+
+"I am well already," said Judy. "What delicious chicken-broth! Auntie
+dear, stoop down, I want to whisper something to you."
+
+"Yes, my dearie, what is it?"
+
+"I needn't be asleep when Hilda comes, need I? You will let me sit up in
+bed, won't you? I'll promise to be so quiet, I won't make a sound to
+disturb Babs, but I should love to be awake and waiting for darling
+Hilda. Please, please, auntie, say I may."
+
+"My darling--until ten o'clock! so awfully late. Judy dear, you're
+getting quite feverish--you must calm yourself, my pet. Well, then,
+well, _anything_ to soothe you. We'll see how you keep, dearie. If you
+don't get at all excited, I--I'll see what I shall do. Now I must leave
+you, darling, to go and get Hilda's room ready. I wonder if Jasper is
+coming with her, she doesn't say anything about him."
+
+Aunt Marjorie trotted out of the room, Miss Mills started on her walk
+to the village, and Judy began to speak eagerly to Babs.
+
+"I am quite well," she said; "you'll never hear me sob again at night. I
+am quite the happiest girl in the world. Oh, think of kissing Hilda
+again; and I didn't fret, no, I didn't--not really. Babs, don't you
+think you might make the room look pretty? You might get out all the
+animals and put them on the chimney-piece."
+
+"I'll be very glad to do that," replied Babs. "I often wanted to look at
+the darlings, but it was no fun when you didn't wish to play with them."
+She opened a little box as she spoke, and taking out china dogs, cats,
+cocks and hens, ducks, giraffes, elephants, monkeys, and many other
+varieties of the animal world, bestowed them with what taste she could
+manage on the mantelpiece. "Don't they look sweet!" she exclaimed. "I
+suppose you're not strong enough to have a game, Judy? If you could bray
+like the donkey, I'd be the roaring bull."
+
+"To-morrow, perhaps, I can," said Judy, in a weak voice; "but the room
+is not half ready yet. I want you to pin some of my drawings and some of
+my texes on the wall. You'll find them in my own box if you open it."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Babs in delight. "I do like making the room pretty for
+Hilda, and you ordering me. You may purtend if you like that I am your
+little servant."
+
+"Very well; you're putting that picture upside down, Babs."
+
+"Oh, how funny! Is that right?"
+
+"No, it's awfully crooked."
+
+For the next half-hour Babs labored hard, and Judy superintended, giving
+sharp criticisms and ordering the arrangements of the chamber with much
+peremptoriness.
+
+"Now we must have flowers," she exclaimed. "You must go out to the
+garden, and pick all the violets you can get."
+
+"But it's very late to go out," said Babs, "and Miss Mills will be
+angry."
+
+"As if that mattered! Who cares who is angry when Hilda is coming? The
+worst Miss Mills can do is to punish you, and you won't mind that when
+you think about Hilda. I know where there are violets, white and blue,
+on that south bank after you pass the shrubbery; you know the bank where
+the bees burrow, and where we catch ladybirds in the summer; run, Babs,
+do run at once and pick all you can find."
+
+Judy's room was decorated to perfection. Judy herself lay in her white
+bed, with pink roses on her cheeks, and eyes like two faintly shining
+stars, and smiles coming and going on her lips, and eager words dropping
+now and then from her impatient little tongue.
+
+"What is the hour now, Aunt Marjorie? Is it really only half-past nine?"
+
+"It is five-and-twenty to ten, Judy, and Miss Mills has gone in the fly
+to the station, and your Hilda will be back, if the train is punctual,
+by ten o'clock. How wonderfully well you look, my darling. I did right
+after all to let you sit up in bed to wait for your dear sister."
+
+"Yes, I am quite well, only--I hope Jasper won't come too."
+
+"Oh, fie! my pet. You know you ought not to say that treasonable sort of
+thing--Jasper is Jasper, one of the family, and we must welcome him as
+such--but between ourselves, just for no one else to hear in all the
+wide world, I do hope also that our dear little Hilda will come here by
+herself."
+
+Judy threw her thin arms round Aunt Marjorie's neck and gave her a
+silent hug.
+
+"I'll never breathe what you said," she whispered back in her emphatic
+voice.
+
+Babs slept peacefully in her cot at the other end of the room. The white
+and blue violets lay in a tiny bowl on the little table by Judy's bed.
+The rumble of wheels was heard in the avenue. Aunt Marjorie started to
+her feet, and the color flew from Judy's face.
+
+"It cannot be Hilda yet," exclaimed the aunt. "No, of course, it is the
+doctor. He will say that you are better to-night, Judy."
+
+The medical man entered the room, felt the pulse of his little patient,
+looked into her eyes, and gave utterance to a few cheerful words.
+
+"The child is much better, isn't she?" asked Aunt Marjorie, following
+him out of the room.
+
+"Hum! I am not so sure; her pulse is weak and quick, and for some reason
+she is extremely excited. What is she sitting up in bed for? she ought
+to have been in the land of dreams a long time ago."
+
+"Don't you know, Dr. Harvey; didn't we tell you, my niece, Mrs.
+Quentyns, is expected to-night? and Judy is sitting up to see her."
+
+"Suspense is very bad for my little patient. What time is Mrs. Quentyns
+expected to arrive?"
+
+"About ten. Judy is especially attached to her sister, and if I had
+insisted on her trying to go to sleep, she would have tossed about and
+worked herself into a fever."
+
+"She is very nearly in one now, and I don't particularly like the look
+of excitement in her eyes. I hope Mrs. Quentyns will be punctual. As
+soon as ever she comes, the child must settle to sleep. Give her a dose
+of that bromide mixture immediately after. I'll come and see her the
+first thing in the morning."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+HUSBAND AND WIFE.
+
+        But she is far away
+      Now; nor the hours of night, grown hoar,
+      Bring, yet to me, long gazing, from the door,
+    The wind-stirred robe of roseate gray,
+    And rose-cream of the hour that leads the day,
+      When we shall meet once more.
+
+                    --D. G. ROSSETTI.
+
+
+Hilda Quentyns, Judy's idol, was not the strongest of characters. She
+was very sweet and amiable, intensely true and affectionate to those to
+whom she gave her heart, but she was somewhat timorous and somewhat
+easily led.
+
+Long ago, when Babs was a baby, Hilda's mother had died. Since then Judy
+had been her special care.
+
+Now with trembling hands she packed her portmanteau, gave the young cook
+and parlor-maid directions what to do in her absence, and then sitting
+down before her davenport, prepared to write an explanatory letter to
+her husband.
+
+She thought it quite probable that Jasper would be angry with her for
+rushing off like this, but for once she intended to brave his
+displeasure.
+
+In her heart of hearts she knew exactly the state Judy was in. The
+ardent soul was wearing out the delicate little frame. That suffering
+which Judy would not speak of, which she was too brave to show sign or
+whisper of, was making her body ill. If Hilda went to her darling, the
+suffering would cease. Love would shine all round Judy's starved heart,
+and she would soon be well and strong again.
+
+"Yes, it is my manifest duty to go to her," whispered the wife to
+herself. "I will go to Little Staunton and nurse her for a few days, and
+when she is better she must come to London and live with me. Jasper
+won't like it--I know he won't like it, but he has really nothing to
+complain of, for I told him from the very first what Judy was to me.
+Yes, I must go, but I wish--I do wish that the train for Little Staunton
+left Waterloo at six instead of seven. I should be well on my journey
+before Jasper came back. Oh, Jasper, my darling, why do I say words of
+this sort, as if I were--as if I could be--afraid of you!"
+
+Hilda dipped her pen into the ink and wrote the first words of her
+letter.
+
+    "MY DEAREST HUSBAND:
+
+    "When you read this you will be surprised--"
+
+A rather crooked dash of her pen finished this sentence--she was
+startled by a quick double knock at the front door. A moment later
+Susan, the neat maidservant, brought in a telegram on a salver.
+
+"The boy is waiting to know if there is any answer," she said.
+
+Hilda tore open the yellow envelope; her eyes rested on the following
+words:
+
+    "Rivers will dine with us. Have everything nice, and expect me
+    home at 6.30.
+
+                    "JASPER."
+
+Mrs. Quentyns' first sensation was one of relief.
+
+"It is all right," she exclaimed, looking up at the servant, who was
+startled at her mistress's pale cheeks. "I thought my little sister,
+Miss Judy, was worse, but the telegram is from your master, Susan. Tell
+the boy there is no answer, and send cook to me without a moment's
+delay."
+
+Susan left the room, and Hilda slipped the telegram into her pocket. She
+still felt only a sense of relief, and the first faint qualms as to
+what Jasper would think of her sudden departure had not begun to visit
+her. A knock was heard at the drawing-room door.
+
+"Come in, come in," said the young mistress. "Oh, cook," exclaimed
+Hilda, "I have just had a telegram from your master. He is bringing a
+gentleman home to dine. A rather particular gentleman, and we want a
+specially nice dinner. I--I forget what I ordered this morning."
+
+The fat cook bestowed a pitying glance upon Hilda.
+
+"The boiled chicken was to be fricasseed, mum," she said, "and you
+ordered me to open one of the tins of oxtail soup; there were to be
+apple fritters afterward, and a cheese savory--that is all."
+
+"Yes, yes," said Hilda, putting her hand to her head, "that dinner would
+have done very well for Mr. Quentyns and me, but we must make some
+alterations now. You had better run round to the fishmonger's, cook, and
+go to the butcher's, and order----"
+
+Hilda rushed to her davenport, scribbled some hasty directions on a
+piece of paper, and handed them to the servant.
+
+"You must go this moment," she said, "it is six o'clock now; and please
+call at the green-grocer's on your way back, and get a pound of bananas
+and some Tangerine oranges. I will see that the wine is all right, and
+speak to Susan about the table while you are out. Run, cook, run, at
+once--things must look their _very_ best, and be served in the best
+possible manner for dinner to-night."
+
+The cook muttered something unintelligible, and by no means too well
+pleased with her errand, departed.
+
+Hilda called Susan, and going into the dining room helped her to
+decorate the table; then after impressing upon the neat little
+parlor-maid the necessity of doing what she could to help cook in this
+sudden emergency, she ran upstairs to put on her bonnet and jacket, for
+the time had almost arrived when she must start on her journey. She had
+just come downstairs when the click of the latch-key was heard, and
+Jasper, in excellent spirits, entered the house.
+
+"Well, my love," he said, going up to his wife and kissing her; "oh, you
+have been out!--did you get my telegram? I told Rivers we should not
+dine until half-past seven, in order to give you plenty of time to
+prepare. Perhaps you have been ordering some things for dinner, Hilda;
+that is right, and just what I should have expected of you. I am
+particularly anxious that Rivers should see that I have got the
+sweetest, prettiest, and best little wife and housekeeper in the
+world."
+
+For some reason which she could not explain, even to herself, Hilda felt
+her tongue tied. She returned her husband's kiss, and when he entered
+the tiny dining room she followed him.
+
+"Very nice, very nice," he exclaimed, looking with approval at the
+dinner-table, which was charmingly decorated with pink Liberty silk and
+white flowers. "But what is this?" he added suddenly, "there are only
+two places laid. One for you and one for me. We must ring for Susan at
+once--I think Rivers would rather sit at the side, away from the fire."
+
+"I--Jasper, I want to tell you something."
+
+"What is it? how pale you are, darling!"
+
+"I want to tell you something," repeated Hilda; "I--I am not going to
+dine with you to-night."
+
+"What do you mean, my dear girl--are you ill? what can be the matter?"
+
+"I am not ill, but Judy is--I am going down to Little Staunton. I have
+telegraphed to them to expect me by the train due at 9.40, and it is
+time for me to go. Is that you, Susan? Please would you order a hansom
+at once?"
+
+Susan instantly left the room, closing the door behind her.
+
+For nearly half a minute Quentyns was silent, a great wave of color had
+rushed over his face, and it was with difficulty he could keep back some
+annoyed and some sarcastic words. He was a man who prided himself on
+having great self-control, and before he uttered his first sentence he
+felt that he had recovered it.
+
+"You're trembling, dear," he said gently, "and you--you absolutely look
+as if you were _afraid_ of me. Come into the drawing room, love, and
+tell me what is wrong with Judy. My _bete noire_, Judy! what has been
+her last transgression?"
+
+"Jasper, don't, don't," said Hilda, in a voice of pain. "Judy is really
+ill this time--she fainted in church on Sunday; she is in bed now, and
+the doctor says she is very weak."
+
+"I suppose so, or she would not have fainted. I used constantly to faint
+when I was a child--the slightest thing sent me off. I was not kept in
+bed afterward, for children were not cockered up and fussed over when I
+was young. My faint was generally traced to over-eating. If you must go
+down to see Judy, I don't wish to prevent you, Hilda, but why go
+to-night?"
+
+"Oh, Jasper, I must--I must run away this instant too, for I hear the
+cab--I telegraphed to say I would go."
+
+Jasper put on a new stubborn look which Hilda had never seen before.
+
+"I don't wish to coerce you," he said, in a cold voice, "you're
+perfectly free to act as you think right in the matter. I can go down
+with you by an early train in the morning, or you can go by yourself
+now, and put me to extreme inconvenience. You're at liberty to choose."
+
+"Don't speak like that, Jasper, you pain me so dreadfully."
+
+"I fail to see how I am paining you, I am giving you a free choice. You
+can be with Judy before noon to-morrow, or you can go immediately."
+
+"I sent a telegram to her to expect me; it is so bad for sick children
+to be kept waiting."
+
+"So it seems. Yes, Susan, tell the cab to wait."
+
+Susan left the room, and heavy tears gathered in Hilda's eyes.
+
+"Can I send another telegram?" she asked weakly.
+
+"I don't believe you can, the telegraph office will be closed at Little
+Staunton. Never mind, Hilda, you had better go; I am disappointed,
+annoyed, of course, but what of that? What is a husband to a sick
+sister? Go, my dear, or you will miss your train!"
+
+"No, I won't go," said Hilda; "you have made it impossible for me to
+go. I'll stay and entertain your guest, and Judy will suffer. Yes; don't
+kiss me just now, Jasper; I think you are cruel, but I'll stay."
+
+Hilda went over to the bell and rang it.
+
+Susan answered the summons.
+
+"Give the cabman this shilling," said Mrs. Quentyns, "and tell him that
+he is not required."
+
+"You have done quite right, my love," said Quentyns, "and when you have
+got over your first little feeling of annoyance you will see the matter
+in the same light that I do. I'll telegraph to Little Staunton early in
+the morning to tell them to expect us by the 11.35 train. Of course Judy
+would have been asleep hours before you reached her to-night, so it does
+not really matter in the least. Now come upstairs and put on your very
+prettiest dress, that soft pink _chiffon_, in which you look as like a
+rosebud as a living woman can. I have capital news for you, Hilda, my
+love; Rivers certainly is a brick; he has got me to act as counsel
+in----"
+
+Quentyns talked on in his satisfied, joyous tones. He had won the
+victory, and could afford to be very gracious and generous. Hilda felt
+as if a band of iron had closed round her heart. She was too gentle and
+sweet in her nature to be long angry with her husband. Her face was a
+little paler than usual, however, and her eyes had a weary look in them.
+
+Rivers, who was a very keen observer of human nature, noticed the silent
+depression which hung over her, but Hilda's husband failed to observe
+it.
+
+"I can easily manage her," he muttered to himself; "it would have been
+beyond all reason to have had her absent from our first little dinner
+just because a child had fainted. Pshaw!--I can see that Hilda is going
+to be painfully fanciful; it all comes from having lived so long in the
+wilds of the country. Well, I'll take her down to Little Staunton
+to-morrow, and be specially good to her, but she must get over these
+absurdities about Judy, or life will not be worth living."
+
+The dinner was a success, and Hilda looked lovely. A certain dreamy and
+far-away expression in her eyes added the final touch to her beauty.
+When the men sat together over their wine, Rivers spoke of her in tones
+of rapture.
+
+"You're the luckiest fellow in Christendom, Jasper," he said; and Jasper
+Quentyns, who looked up to Tom Rivers as the first of men, felt almost
+unduly elated.
+
+"The lines had fallen unto him in pleasant places," so he muttered, and
+he forgot all about a sick and troublesome child, who at this very
+instant was counting the moments as they flew by, in her tired and weary
+eagerness to clasp her arms round Hilda's neck. Hilda, too, in the
+drawing room, was shedding silent tears, but what did that matter? for
+Jasper knew nothing about them.
+
+Jasper and Hilda were both musical, and Tom Rivers liked nothing better
+than to listen to their voices as they sang duet after duet together.
+The songs they sung were full of noble sentiment. Their voices mingled
+until they almost sounded like one rich and perfect note, as they sang
+of love which is undying and self-sacrifice which is ennobling. Quentyns
+felt a glow of elation filling his breast as his eyes rested on his
+lovely wife, and the tormentings of Hilda's conscience were soothed, and
+she too partly forgot Judy.
+
+Breakfast was served at an early hour next morning at Philippa Terrace,
+and Quentyns and his wife started for Little Staunton in time to catch
+the early train.
+
+They arrived at the small way-side station not more than twenty minutes
+beyond the appointed time, and were met by Miss Mills, who was driving
+the village pony cart herself.
+
+The governess addressed Hilda in a calm voice, but her inward
+excitement was very manifest. Jasper had talked cheerfully all the way
+down to Little Staunton, but Hilda had been almost silent. She felt
+oppressed--she dreaded she knew not what. Now, when she looked into Miss
+Mills' face, she felt her own turn pale.
+
+"No, don't speak," she said, in a hoarse whisper. "I _know_ you have bad
+news, but don't tell me now, not until we get home."
+
+"Get in," said Miss Mills, "I won't be long driving you to the Rectory.
+It is rather important for you to be there, and as the trap only holds
+two, perhaps Mr. Quentyns won't mind walking."
+
+"Not at all," said Jasper, in his pleasant, calm voice. "Can you make
+room for our portmanteau at your feet, Miss Mills? Ah, yes, that will do
+nicely. By the way, how are you all? has Judy quite recovered from her
+faint?"
+
+When Quentyns asked this question Miss Mills bent suddenly forward under
+the pretense of trying to arrange the portmanteau.
+
+"We won't be any time getting to the Rectory," she said, turning to
+Hilda; she touched the pony with her whip as she spoke and they started
+forward.
+
+"It was such a pity you didn't come last night," said the governess, as
+they entered the Rectory gates.
+
+"I--I could not help it," murmured poor Hilda. With one hand she was
+tightly grasping the edge of the little basket-carriage.
+
+"Stop, there is father," she exclaimed suddenly. "Let me go to him. I--I
+can bear him to tell me if there is anything wrong."
+
+In an instant she reached the Rector's side. Her arms were round his
+neck, her head on his shoulder, and she was sobbing her heart out on his
+breast.
+
+"My dearest Hilda, my darling!" exclaimed her father. "What is the
+meaning of all this? Why are you so dreadfully unhappy, my child?"
+
+"Tell me, father, I can bear it from you. Is she--is she dead?"
+
+"Is who dead?"
+
+"Ju--Judy."
+
+"No; what has put that into your head? But your little sister is very
+ill, Hilda. I am not so much alarmed about her as your Aunt Marjorie is,
+but I confess her state puzzles me. I saw Dr. Harvey to-day, and I don't
+think he is satisfied either. It seems that for some reason the child
+was over-excited last night--there was difficulty in getting her off to
+sleep, and she cried in a very distressing and painful way. I was
+obliged to sit with her myself. I held her hand, poor little darling,
+and had a prayer with her, and--toward morning she dropped off into a
+sleep."
+
+"And," continued Hilda, "she was better when she awoke, wasn't she? Do
+say she was, father. You showed her Jasper's telegram the very instant
+she awoke, and of course she got much better immediately."
+
+"My dear Hilda, the strange thing about Judy has yet to be told; she has
+not awakened--she is still asleep, and this prolonged and unnatural
+sleep disturbs Dr. Harvey a good deal."
+
+"I had better go to her at once, father. I think the doctor _must_ be
+mistaken in thinking sleep bad. When Judy sees me sitting by her bedside
+she will soon cheer up and get like her old self. I'll run to her now,
+father: I don't feel half so much alarmed since you tell me that she is
+only asleep."
+
+The Rector gave vent to a troubled sigh; Hilda put wings to her feet,
+and with the lightness and grace of a bird sped toward the house.
+
+"Hilda, Hilda!" called her husband. He had taken a short cut across some
+fields, and was now entering the Rectory domain. He thought it would be
+quite the correct thing for his wife to wait for him. Surely she would
+like to enter her family circle with him by her side. "Hilda, stop!" he
+cried, and he hurried his own footsteps.
+
+But if Hilda heard she did not heed. She rushed on, and soon disappeared
+from view inside the deep portico of the old house.
+
+Two or three moments later she was sitting without her hat and jacket,
+and with a pair of noiseless house-slippers on her feet, by Judy's
+bedside.
+
+All the preparations which had been made with such care and pains by
+Babs the night before were still making the nursery look pretty. The
+little china animals sat in many funny groups on the mantelpiece. The
+white and blue violets lay in a large bowl on a table by Judy's side.
+One of the little sleeper's hands was thrown outside the counterpane.
+Hilda touched it, and found that it burned with a queer, uncomfortable
+dry heat.
+
+"But how quietly she is sleeping," said Mrs. Quentyns, looking up with
+tears in her eyes at Aunt Marjorie; "why are you so solemn and
+sad?--surely this sleep must be good for her."
+
+"My dear, Dr. Harvey calls Judy's state more stupor than sleep. He says
+the most extraordinary things about the child ... that she has been
+over-excited and subjected to a severe mental strain, and he fears
+mischief to the brain. But surely he must be wrong, for nothing _could_
+exceed the quiet of our life at the Rectory since the money has gone and
+you have left us, and no one could have been less excited in her ways
+than Judy has been since your marriage. I can't make out what Dr. Harvey
+means."
+
+"I think I partly understand," said Hilda; her voice had a choking
+sound. "Don't talk so loud, Aunt Marjorie," she said impatiently; "you
+will wake her--you will disturb her."
+
+"But that is what we wish," interrupted the old lady. "The doctor says
+we must do everything in our power to rouse her. Ah, and here he comes;
+he will speak for himself."
+
+"I am glad to see you, Mrs. Quentyns," said Dr. Harvey. "Your not coming
+last night when the child expected you was a grave mistake, but better
+late than never."
+
+He stopped speaking then, and bent over the little sleeper.
+
+"Draw up the blind," he said to Aunt Marjorie, "let us have all the
+light we can. Now don't be frightened, Mrs. Quentyns--I am not going to
+hurt the child, but I must examine her eyes."
+
+Hilda felt as if she could scarcely restrain a stifled scream as the
+doctor lifted first one lid and then the other, and looked into the
+dark depths of the sweet eyes.
+
+"The child has got a shock," he said then. "I feared it when I called
+early this morning. I don't say for a moment that she will not get
+better, but her state is very precarious. I should like you to nurse her
+altogether, Mrs. Quentyns; much depends on her seeing you by her side
+when she wakes."
+
+"I shall never leave her again," said Hilda, in a stifled tone.
+
+The doctor's practiced ear caught the suppressed hysteria in her voice.
+
+"Come, come," he said cheerily, "you have nothing to blame yourself for.
+The little one has evidently felt your absence in a remarkable manner."
+
+"Really, doctor, you are quite mistaken," began Aunt Marjorie. "What I
+principally noticed about Judy was her great quietness and docility
+since Hilda left. She scarcely spoke of her sister, and seemed content
+to sit by my side and read fairy stories. She used to be such a very
+excitable, troublesome sort of child. If you ask me frankly, I think
+Hilda's absence did her good."
+
+The doctor looked from the old lady to the young.
+
+"I must adhere to my first opinion," he said. "The child has missed her
+sister. Now that you have come, Mrs. Quentyns, we will hope for the
+best."
+
+He went out of the room as he spoke, and Aunt Marjorie followed him.
+
+Hilda dropped on her knees by Judy's cot.
+
+"Oh, my God, forgive me," she cried, in a broken anguished prayer. "I
+did wrong to leave my little Judy. Oh, God, only spare her life, and I
+will vow to you that _whatever_ happens she shall never leave me in the
+time to come. Whatever happens," repeated Hilda, in a choking voice of
+great agony. Then she rose and took her place beside the child's bed.
+
+A couple of hours passed by. The door was softly opened, and Quentyns
+stole into the room. He had been very much shocked by the doctor's
+account of the child, and his face and tone expressed real sympathy as
+he came up to Hilda.
+
+"Poor little Judy!" he said, bending over her. "What a queer excitable
+little mite it is."
+
+Hilda beat her foot impatiently.
+
+"Well, my darling," continued Quentyns, not noticing his wife's
+suppressed agitation, "she will soon be all right now you have come.
+Lunch is ready, Hilda, and you must be weak for want of food. Come,
+dearest, let me take you down to the dining room."
+
+"Oh, no, Jasper! I can't leave Judy; and please, please don't talk so
+loud."
+
+"The doctor does not wish her to be kept _too_ quiet, Hilda; and surely,
+my dear, you are not going to starve yourself!"
+
+"Aunt Marjorie will send me something to the dressing room; I can't be
+away from Judy even for one minute. There is no saying when she will
+awake, and I must be with her when she does."
+
+Quentyns smothered an impatient exclamation. After a pause he said
+gently:
+
+"As you please, dear; I will bring something up myself to the dressing
+room for you," and he stole on tip-toe out of the room.
+
+Nothing could be more patient than his manner, and Hilda reproached
+herself for the feeling of irritation which his presence gave her.
+
+There came a sigh from the bed--the faintest of sounds; Mrs. Quentyns
+turned her head quickly, and saw to her rapture that Judy's big
+greeny-gray eyes were wide open and fixed earnestly on her face. There
+was no surprise in the pretty eyes, nor any additional color in the pale
+little face.
+
+"Hilda," said Judy, "I _thought_ it was only a bad dream--you never
+went away, did you?"
+
+"I am never going to leave you again, Judy," replied her sister; "never,
+never, as long as we both live. I vow--I promise--nothing shall part us,
+nothing except death."
+
+Hilda flung herself on her knees by the child's bed, and burst into
+hysterical sobs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+HILDA'S ENGAGEMENT RING.
+
+        My heart is heavy for scorn,
+      Mine eyes with impatient tears,
+    But heaven looks blue through the cherry-blooms,
+      And preaches away my fears.
+
+                    --EMILY PFEIFFER.
+
+
+Contrary to the doctor's fears, and in accordance with Hilda's hopes,
+Judy grew better. A weight had been lifted from her heart--her starved
+affections were nourished and soothed once more. Hilda scarcely ever
+left her room, and Hilda's presence was perpetual sunshine to the child.
+
+No one could possibly have behaved better than Quentyns did during this
+trying time. A certain feeling of compunction had visited him when he
+discovered how real Judy's illness was. He was assailed by a momentary
+pricking of his conscience, but as the little girl quickly grew better,
+and was soon pronounced by the doctor to be quite out of danger, it was
+but natural that an active man of the world like Quentyns should wish to
+return to town, should find the quiet Rectory simply unendurable, and
+also that he should wish to take his young wife with him.
+
+The Quentyns arrived at Staunton Rectory on a certain Wednesday, and on
+the following Sunday evening Quentyns thought the time had arrived for
+him to speak to Hilda about their return to town. He had not seen much
+of her during the days which had intervened, and he was obliged now to
+send Babs with a message to Judy's room to ask his wife to come to him.
+
+Hilda was reading aloud to Judy when Babs entered the room, and said in
+her important, calm way:
+
+"Jasper wants you, Hilda, and you are to go to him this minute."
+
+Hilda could read beautifully, and Judy had lain in a dream of rapture,
+listening to the beloved voice as it told the old story of Christian and
+his pilgrimage. Now the wistful, distressed look crept back into her
+face.
+
+"Never mind, dear," said Hilda, bending forward and kissing the child.
+"I shall not be long away."
+
+Quentyns was waiting for his wife in the large conservatory which opened
+into the drawing room. It was nearly empty of flowers and plants now,
+but was still a pleasant place to lounge about in.
+
+"Well, my love," he said in his pleasant tone. "Why, how pale you look,
+Hilda. I am not going to scold you, darling--oh, no, not for the world;
+but I haven't got too much of your society during these last few days. I
+don't blame you, and I am not jealous; but if you _could_ spare me half
+an hour now, there are one or two things I want to talk over with you."
+
+"Of course I can spare you half an hour, Jasper, or an hour for that
+matter, if you want it," replied Hilda cheerfully. "Judy is much, much
+better to-night, and I am feeling quite happy about her."
+
+Hilda slipped her hand through her husband's arm as she spoke; he gave
+the little hand an affectionate squeeze and drew his wife close to his
+side.
+
+"I am glad Judy is better," he said. "What I have to propose will be
+quite convenient then, Hilda. I want to go back to town by the first
+train in the morning. I have heard from Rivers, and----What is it, my
+love? You really do look very pale. You are overdoing yourself, and I
+cannot allow it. Now that Judy is better you must rest. I shall get Dr.
+Pettifer to look you up and give you a tonic when we get back to town."
+
+"Stop, Jasper," said Hilda suddenly. "I am not tired nor worn out in
+any way. I look pale now because my heart beats--because----Jasper, I
+cannot go to town with you to-morrow. I know you must go; of course, I
+quite understand that; but I am not going--not until Judy is well enough
+to be moved."
+
+Quentyns did not reply for several seconds, then he said in a gentle
+tone, which did not betray an atom of his true feeling:
+
+"I half expected you to say something of this sort, Hilda; I cannot
+pretend that I am not sorry. The fine weather is coming on; the London
+season will soon be at its height. I do not mean for a moment to imply
+that we can avail ourselves of what is termed a season in town, but for
+a poor and struggling man it is essential that he should leave no stone
+unturned to introduce himself to those persons who can and will help
+him. The influential sort of people who can materially assist me in my
+career are now in London, Hilda. You, my darling, are an excuse for many
+valuable introductions. You see, therefore, that not alone from an
+affectionate point of view you ought now to be with me. But," continued
+Jasper, looking straight ahead of him, and fixing his fine, intelligent
+eyes on the distant landscape, "I waive all that. I understand that you
+do not wish to leave Judy until she is fit to be moved to the seaside.
+If she maintains the progress she is now making, Dr. Harvey will
+probably allow Aunt Marjorie to take her away at the end of the week. I
+shall have you home on Saturday at the latest, Hilda."
+
+"Yes," said Hilda. "I hope so, but--but, Jasper, you still fail to
+understand me. When Judy goes away, she is not going to the seaside--she
+is coming with me to London--to Philippa Terrace. It is a promise, and
+I--I won't--I can't go back from it. I stand or fall by my promise,
+Jasper--I wish to say so now once for all."
+
+"You stand or fall by your promise!" repeated Quentyns. "What an
+extraordinary remark. One would suppose, my darling, that I was an ogre
+or the worst sort of tyrant. I always told you that Judy should come to
+stay with us for a few weeks when we had a room to receive her in. If
+matters progress as satisfactorily as I hope, we shall have a snug,
+prettily furnished, little spare room by the end of the present season.
+I promise you, Hilda, that Judy shall be its first tenant."
+
+Hilda laid her hand with a sort of trembling, nervous impatience, on her
+husband's arm.
+
+"I have made a mistake--I have been a coward," she said. "Even now,
+Jasper, you don't a bit understand me. Long ago, when mother died, she
+left Judy in my charge. I ought never to have married and left her. Judy
+is not an ordinary child, and she suffered. When I went away her heart
+was starved. She could not live with a starved heart. In my absence, my
+little Judy nearly died. She is better now--she is recovering because I
+am with her. I am never going to leave her again while she lives."
+
+"Hilda, what nonsense you talk," said Quentyns, with temper in his tone.
+"If Judy lives to grow up, she will marry like other girls--and will
+leave you of her own accord."
+
+"If she does," replied Hilda, "that alters the case, but until she
+leaves me by her own wish or marries, she is in my charge. I will not be
+parted from her, Jasper. I shall not return to Philippa Terrace until I
+can bring her with me."
+
+"Is that really your final decision?" said Quentyns--he turned round now
+and looked at his wife; his face was very cold, its expression carefully
+veiled. He was intensely anxious not to show even a trace of ill-temper.
+His words were guarded. "Is that your final decision, Hilda?" he said,
+and there was a fine withering sort of sarcasm in his voice. "Do you
+mean seriously to desert the husband you married not three months ago
+for the sake of a child's whim? Is that the way you keep your marriage
+vow?"
+
+"No, no, Jasper! I want to be true to you both. I made two vows, and I
+want to keep them both. Help me, Jasper; I am not a bit a strong-minded
+girl, I am just very loving. My heart is full of love to you and to
+Judy. Help me to do this--help me to love you both, to serve you both.
+Go back to town to-morrow and furnish the spare room, and I will bring
+Judy back with me on Friday or Saturday."
+
+"I said I should not run in debt. I have no more money to spend on
+furniture at present. You don't really care for me, Hilda, or you would
+never speak as you do. But, once for all, I will not be drawn into a
+path which simply means ruin for the sake of any woman, and for the
+ridiculous fancies of any child. I will buy no furniture until I can pay
+for it. That ends the matter, my dear. If you are determined to stay at
+the Rectory for the summer, they will all, I am sure, be charmed to have
+you, and I will try and run down as often as I can. I need not say that
+I think you are making a most grave mistake, but a willful woman must
+e'en have her way, I suppose. Ah, and here comes the Rector, he has just
+returned from evening service."
+
+Quentyns went toward the door of the conservatory, which he flung open.
+Mr. Merton was just entering his drawing room.
+
+"One moment, Jasper--one moment," said Hilda; she rushed after her
+husband, her face was like death, her eyes were blazing with passion.
+
+"Your cruel words make anything possible," she said. "I made two vows
+before God, and I will keep them both. There, this was costly, I
+presume. You spent money on it--sell it again, and buy the furniture
+that you will not go in debt for."
+
+She thrust her engagement ring into Quentyns' hand and rushed away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+JUDY'S ROOM.
+
+    An ear that waits to catch
+    A hand upon the latch.
+
+                    --DORA GREENWELL.
+
+
+"Here is a letter from Jasper, Hilda darling," said Aunt Marjorie,
+coming into Judy's bedroom two or three days after the events mentioned
+in the last chapter. "I know the hand-writing, dear. How strong and
+manly it looks. I do love a manly hand, don't you?"
+
+Hilda did not reply. She rose from her seat by Judy's side, and taking
+her husband's letter, walked to the window, and, standing with her back
+to the light, opened it eagerly. Her face was a little pale and worn,
+and her eyes had tired lines under them. No one had noticed any change
+in her, however. Judy was fast recovering--each day her spirits rose,
+her appetite improved, her strength grew greater. She was to be taken
+into Hilda's old boudoir to-day, and Babs was importantly moving the
+beloved china animals, arranging flowers, and getting the room ready
+for the great event.
+
+Aunt Marjorie, after her usual fashion, fussed over Judy while Hilda
+read her letter. It was brief, but somehow it gave the young wife
+unexpected hope and pleasure:
+
+    "MY DEAREST WIFE:
+
+    "Pray forgive me for not writing sooner, but I have been
+    exceedingly busy since I returned to town, and have dined each
+    night with Rivers at his club. I send a hasty line now to say
+    that you can bring Judy back to Philippa Terrace whenever she is
+    strong enough to be moved, as I have given Shoolbred full
+    directions with regard to furnishing the spare room, and have
+    just had a letter from him to say the goods will be delivered
+    to-day.
+
+    "Pray don't tire yourself more than is necessary. And believe
+    me,
+
+                    "Your affectionate husband,
+                          "JASPER QUENTYNS."
+
+"Judy," said Hilda--she turned eagerly, the old lovely color mantling
+her cheeks, and the brightness of hope filling her eyes. "Isn't Jasper
+good, Judy? I have just heard from him--he says the furniture is coming
+in for your room to-day. We can go back to town as soon as ever Dr.
+Harvey thinks you strong enough to be moved, my pet."
+
+"Which won't be this week," interrupted Aunt Marjorie. "It would be the
+sheerest madness. Has Jasper proposed such a thing, Hilda? If so, I can
+only say how like a man. In about a fortnight, this dear child may be
+the better for change of air.... I have no doubt too that Dr. Harvey
+will be pleased to have a London opinion about her. There may be a
+weakness of the heart's action. I never am easy about people who faint
+off suddenly. Now, Judy, why do you flush up? you know you oughtn't to
+listen when Auntie talks to Hilda about you. Go on reading your pretty
+story book, my love. Yes, Hilda, I should like the child to see a
+first-class physician. You know your mother's heart was not strong. He
+will doubtless order cod-liver oil, but for my part I prefer cream."
+
+"I know something better than cream for Judy--don't I, my pet?" said
+Hilda, turning to her little sister with her bright smile.
+
+"And so do I," replied Judy. "Oh, Hilda, to think of living with you in
+your own little house! Oh, Hilda, I'm _too_ happy--I am so happy that my
+heart aches. It aches with pleasure."
+
+Judy's thin arms were flung round her sister's neck. Her lips pressed
+Hilda's soft young cheek, her eyes looked into Hilda's. It seemed to
+them both at that moment that soul answered to soul.
+
+"Now what nonsense this is," said Aunt Marjorie in her fussy tones.
+"Judy, I hope Hilda is not going to encourage you in silly sentimental
+talk of that kind. You say your heart aches with pleasure. Really, my
+dear, I have no patience to listen to you. I should like to know what a
+child like you knows about heart-aches--you, who have been brought up in
+what I may call the very lap of luxury. For, Hilda, I have made it the
+object of my life ever since poverty came to us, to prevent even the
+slightest shadow of its wings touching the children. They have had their
+excellent governess, and their warm schoolroom and snug bedroom. I cut
+down one of my own fur cloaks to give them really nice winter jackets,
+and I took special care that the schoolroom table should be as liberal
+as ever. It is impossible, therefore, for me to understand Judy's silly
+words about her heart aching."
+
+Aunt Marjorie left the room, and Judy still softly rubbed her cheek
+against Hilda's.
+
+"But my heart did ache," she said after a pause--"it aches with joy now,
+and it did ache--oh, it kept crying, it felt starved without you,
+Hilda."
+
+"I understand--yes, I understand," replied Hilda.
+
+"You don't mind what Aunt Marjorie says then?"
+
+"Not about you, my own little love."
+
+"Hilda, I did really try very, very hard not to fret."
+
+"The effort was too much for you, my Judy; but never mind, the pain and
+the parting are all over now. Isn't it kind of your new brother--isn't
+it kind of dear, dear Jasper--to get the nice little room furnished and
+ready for you, darling?"
+
+"Yes, Hilda. Has he gone in debt for the furniture? You told me long ago
+that the room would have been furnished and that I should have come to
+you, but there was no money left, and Jasper would not go in debt. Has
+he really gone in debt now, just to please me?"
+
+"No, my love, no--we have managed. You must not ask inquisitive
+questions. All is right now, and we shall be very happy together."
+
+Dr. Harvey was highly pleased, when he heard that his little patient was
+going to London with her sister. He was a man with plenty of
+observation, and he could read between the lines much better than poor
+obtuse old Aunt Marjorie.
+
+"You are the right physician for your little sister, Mrs. Quentyns," he
+said. "I prophesy that Miss Judy will become perfectly strong and well
+in a short time under your care. Yes, there will be nothing to prevent
+her traveling to town on Saturday next, if you really wish it. The
+weather is extraordinarily mild for the time of year, and a change will
+do Judy more good than anything else."
+
+Hilda wrote a joyful letter to her husband that day.
+
+"You are to expect us both on Saturday," she said. "Oh, Jasper, how
+happy your letter has made me. How good--how really good you are. Please
+forgive me if I was a little hasty with you the other evening. I know
+you will never regret, darling husband, helping me to keep both my
+vows--the vow I made to you, and the vow I made mother. No one ever had
+a more loving wife than I shall prove to you, and no one ever had a
+dearer little sister than you will find my Judy when you really know
+her."
+
+"Her Judy, indeed!" murmured Quentyns, when he read his wife's letter at
+his breakfast-table on the following morning. "Tiresome little
+piece--she'll never be _my_ Judy, however much she may be Hilda's. Well,
+I suppose I must make the best of a bad job, but if I had known
+beforehand that that wretched sentimental child was to be tacked on to
+us, I'd have thought twice.... No, I wouldn't though, I love Hilda well
+enough to bear some inconvenience for her sake; but if she thinks this
+step will really add to our happiness, she'll soon find her mistake.
+Fancy her asking me to sell her engagement ring! I can never get over
+that. Things can't be quite the same again--it's impossible. Well, well,
+more than one friend has told me I'd wake from my dream of bliss some
+day. I have, with a vengeance--it has been something of a shock too.
+Heigho! I am not going to _look_ like defeat, anyhow. Of course, too,
+I'll be just the same to Hilda outwardly. Ah, there's Susan--I'd better
+speak to her and get her to tell cook. This is Thursday--they'll be here
+in two days."
+
+"Susan," as the neat parlor-maid entered the room, "I have had a letter
+from your mistress. She is coming home on Saturday, and will bring
+little Miss Merton with her. Have the things come from Shoolbred's yet?"
+
+"The furniture, sir, for the spare room? Yes, it arrived yesterday, and
+the man is coming to lay down the carpet and put up the curtains this
+morning."
+
+"Well, Susan, you get the room ready, and have the bed well aired, and
+tell me if there's anything more wanted--the child has been ill, and
+she'll require every comfort. Mrs. Quentyns will wish the room to look
+as nice as possible. I know nothing about these matters--see to it,
+Susan, will you?"
+
+"Yes, sir; you may depend on me and cook to do everything right----"
+
+"And tell cook about your mistress. Let me see, they'll be home between
+five and six on Saturday evening. I shan't dine at home to-night, and if
+a telegram comes for me, I want you to wire to my city address. This is
+it."
+
+Quentyns left the house, and Susan and the cook spent a busy day in
+dusting, polishing, sweeping, and cleaning.
+
+The little spare room looked very sweet and bright with the simple tasty
+furniture which Quentyns had chosen. The small bed was inviting in its
+white draperies. The furniture, painted in artistic greens, had a cool
+and young effect. The room looked like a child's room, and Susan and
+cook were in ecstasies over its appearance.
+
+"Master _'ave_ taste and no mistake," said cook. "But why don't he come
+and look for 'isself at all we have done, Susan? So natty as everything
+looks, and the furniture master's taste and all. Won't missis be
+pleased! But why don't he come and say what he thinks of how we has put
+the things, Susan?"
+
+"Never you mind," said Susan. "Master knows as the arranging of
+furniture is woman's province--there's no fussing in him, and that's
+what I likes him for."
+
+Saturday arrived in due time, and the little house in Philippa Terrace
+was in apple-pie order.
+
+As Quentyns was leaving for town that morning, Susan waylaid him.
+
+"What hour shall I tell my missis that we may expect you home, sir?" she
+asked. "Mrs. Quentyns and the little lady will be here by six, and the
+very first thing my missis will ask is, when you are coming in."
+
+"Say," began Quentyns--he paused. "I'll write a line," he said; "you can
+give it to your mistress. I shan't be in to dinner to-night, and cook
+had better prepare tea for Mrs. Quentyns and Miss Merton, with fish or
+chops or something of that sort. I'll write a line--I'm glad you
+reminded me, Susan."
+
+Quentyns went into his tiny little study, and wrote a few hasty words.
+
+    "DEAR HILDA: I have some important work to get through to-night,
+    and shall not be back early. I have the latch-key, so no one
+    need sit up. I shall dine at the club with Rivers. Go to bed
+    early if you are tired.
+
+                    "Your Affectionate Husband."
+
+This letter was handed to Hilda on her arrival. She was too excited and
+too interested in getting Judy into the house, and showing her all the
+pleasant arrangements made for her comfort, to read it at first; but
+when her tired little sister was safe in bed, and Hilda had seen her
+enjoying a cup of tea, with some toast and a new-laid country egg, then
+she took Jasper's note out of her pocket.
+
+She was in her own room, and she hesitated for a moment before she
+opened it. She had a kind of premonition that there was pain in it. Her
+home-coming had made her happy, and even while she was opening the
+envelope of Jasper's letter she was listening for the click of his
+latch-key in the hall-door lock.
+
+He was always home in good time on Saturdays, and surely he would make
+extra haste to-night in order to give his wife and his little sister a
+hearty welcome.
+
+Hilda's was the most forgiving nature in the world. During that scene
+in the conservatory at Little Staunton she had lost her temper with her
+husband, but she felt quite sure now that her hasty words must be
+forgotten. As she forgave absolutely, so would he. Why had he written to
+her therefore? Why was he not here? She pulled the note out of its
+envelope, and read the few words that it contained.
+
+It is not too much to say that her heart sank down, down, very low
+indeed in her breast. She became conscious for the first time in her
+life of that heart-hunger, that absolute starved sort of ache which had
+so nearly wrecked Judy's little life. This was the first pang of pain,
+but the ache was to go on and become worse presently.
+
+Hilda was a very patient sort of woman, however, and it did not occur to
+her to cry out or make a fuss. She read the note twice, then put it into
+her pocket and went downstairs.
+
+"Tell cook that I don't want any dinner," she said to Susan; "I will
+have my tea upstairs with Miss Judy. Tell her not to get dinner, as Mr.
+Quentyns is obliged to be out this evening."
+
+"Hilda," called Judy's weak little voice from out of her luxurious white
+bed; "Hilda, do come here a minute."
+
+Hilda went immediately into the room.
+
+"I am so happy and so sleepy," said Judy. "I'm like a bird in a
+nest--oh, I am so snug. Jasper will be coming in presently, won't he,
+Hilda? and you'll want to be with him. I shan't need you at all
+to-night, Hilda darling; I'm going to sleep very soon, and I just sent
+for you now to say that you mustn't come up to me after dinner--you must
+stay with Jasper and let him amuse you. I am sure you want lots of
+amusement after all the dull nursing you have had. Go and put on your
+pretty dinner dress now, Hilda, and then come and look at me and say
+good-night. I am so awfully happy, and I just want one kiss from you
+before I go to sleep."
+
+"But you don't want to go to sleep yet, little puss," said Hilda, in her
+most cheerful tone; "at least I hope you don't until I have had my tea.
+I want to have my tea with you, darling, so I hope you don't mind
+putting up with my company for a little longer."
+
+"As if I could mind--you know better. But, Hilda, if you have tea now
+you won't be hungry for your dinner."
+
+Judy puckered her dark brows with anxiety.
+
+"I'm not going to have dinner."
+
+"You aren't--not really! then what will Jasper say?"
+
+"I've had a little letter from Jasper, darling; he is obliged to be out
+late on business, and won't dine at home to-night. Ah, here comes Susan
+with another new-laid egg for me, and some fresh toast. Now I am going
+to have a delightful little supper in your company, Judy, and then I
+shall settle you for the night."
+
+Hilda talked faster than was her wont; there was an additional
+rose-color in her pretty cheeks, and a brighter light than usual in her
+soft brown eyes. She laughed and jested and made merry over her egg and
+toast.
+
+"How pretty you look!" said Judy, with a heart-whole sigh of admiration
+and content.
+
+She saw nothing wrong, and Hilda kissed her and left the room a few
+minutes later.
+
+She was still wearing her heavy traveling-dress, but after a moment's
+reflection she went into her bedroom, and quickly changed it for a pale
+silk dress of the softest shade of rose. This dress was a special
+favorite of her husband's; he used to liken her to a rosebud in it, and
+said that no color more truly matched the soft tender bloom of her young
+face.
+
+Hilda put on the rose silk now, arranged her dark hair picturesquely,
+and going downstairs to the little drawing room, occupied herself for an
+hour or more in giving it some of those delicate touches which make the
+difference between the mistress of the house being at home and away.
+
+It was a very warm evening for the time of year, but Hilda had a fire
+lit in the grate. The shaded lamp shed a softened golden glow in its
+accustomed corner of the room, and Jasper's favorite chair was placed
+ready for his reception; then Hilda sank down into her own easy-chair,
+and taking up a book, tried to read.
+
+Susan came presently into the room.
+
+"Oh, Susan," said her mistress, "I was about to ring for you. It has
+struck ten o'clock; you and cook are to go to bed, please; I will wait
+up for Mr. Quentyns."
+
+"If you please, ma'am," said Susan.
+
+She stopped and hesitated.
+
+"Yes, Susan?" answered Mrs. Quentyns, in a gentle interrogative tone.
+
+"If you please, ma'am, master has been very late coming home when you
+was in the country--not till past midnight most nights."
+
+"Thank you, Susan; but Mr. Quentyns will probably be in earlier
+to-night, and I wish to remain up. Go to bed, and tell cook to do the
+same. Oh, and please, I should like Miss Judy to have a cup of tea
+brought to her room at eight to-morrow morning. Good-night, Susan."
+
+The parlor-maid withdrew.
+
+"And don't she look beautiful as a pictur," she muttered under her
+breath. "Pore young lady, I doubt if she's pleased with master though.
+Him staying away and all on the first night as she comes back. I
+wouldn't set up for him ef I were her--no, that I wouldn't; I wouldn't
+make so little of myself; but she's proud, too, is Mrs. Quentyns, and
+she don't let on; no, not a bit. Well, I respect her for that, but I
+misdoubt me if all is right atween that pair."
+
+Susan went upstairs to confide her suspicions to cook. They talked in
+low whispers together, and wondered what the mystery could be which was
+keeping Quentyns from his pretty wife's side.
+
+In the meantime, in the silent house the moments for the one anxious
+watcher went slowly by. Her novel was not interesting--she let it fall
+on her knees, and looking at the little clock on the mantelpiece,
+counted the moments until eleven should strike. She quite expected that
+Jasper would be home at eleven. It did not enter for a moment into her
+calculations that he could be absent on this first night of her return
+beyond that hour. When the eleven musical strokes sounded on the little
+clock, and were echoed in many deeper booms from without, she got up,
+and opening the drawing-room door, stepped out into the little hall.
+
+Footsteps kept passing and passing in the street. Cabs kept rolling up
+to other doors and rolling away again. Jasper must surely arrive at any
+moment.
+
+Hilda softly opened the hall door, and standing on the steps, looked up
+and down the gas-lit street. If Jasper were walking home he would see
+her. The lamp light from within threw her slim figure into strong
+relief. A man passing by stopped for an instant to look at her.
+
+Hilda shut the hall door hastily in fear and distress. The man had
+looked as if he might say something rude. She returned to her little
+drawing room, and sitting down by the dying fire stared fixedly into its
+embers until her eyes were full of tears.
+
+Between twelve and one Quentyns let himself softly into the house with
+his latch-key. He was immediately attracted by the light in the drawing
+room, the door of which was slightly ajar. He came into the room at
+once, to find Hilda lying back in her easy-chair, fast asleep. She was
+looking pale--all her pretty roses had fled. Quentyns' first impulse was
+to fold her in his arms in an embrace of absolute love and
+reconciliation.
+
+What a pity it is that we don't oftener yield to our first impulses,
+for they are as a rule whispered to us by our good angels.
+
+Quentyns bent forward, and lightly, very lightly, touched the sleeper's
+soft hair with his big hand. That touch was a caress, but it startled
+Hilda, who woke up with a cry.
+
+"Oh, Jasper," she said, looking at him with alarm in her eyes, "you--you
+are home! I didn't mean to go to sleep, and--what is it, Jasper?"
+
+"Kiss me, Hilda; I am glad you have returned," said Quentyns. "But
+another night, if I should happen to be late, you must not sit up for
+me--I hate being waited for."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE LITTLE RIFT.
+
+    No backward path; ah! no returning;
+      No second crossing that ripple's flow:
+    Come to me now for the mist is burning:
+      Come ere it darkens; Ah, no; ah, no!
+
+                    --JEAN INGELOW.
+
+
+Jasper Quentyns was quite certain that he was behaving admirably under
+circumstances of a specially trying nature.
+
+Judy's advent in the house gave him no small annoyance. Hilda's behavior
+about Judy, her fit of sudden passion, above all the relinquishing of
+her engagement ring, had cut him to the quick. He was proud, sensitive,
+and jealous; when, therefore, he could smile at Judy and chat in light
+and pleasant tones to his wife, when he could remark on the furniture in
+the spare room, and make many suggestions for the comfort of the little
+sister-in-law whom he detested, he was under the impression that his
+conduct was not only exemplary but Christian.
+
+It was true that he went out a good deal in the evenings, not taking
+Hilda with him as had been his original intention, but leaving her at
+home to enjoy the society of the child who had brought the first cloud
+into his home.
+
+"I am going to dine out to-night, Hilda," he would say. "A man I know
+particularly well has asked me. Afterward he and I may go to the theater
+together. You won't mind of course being left, as you have Judy with
+you?"
+
+"Oh, no, dear!" she replied, on the first of these occasions; and when
+Jasper came to say something of this sort two or three times a week,
+Hilda's invariable gentle answer was always that she did not mind.
+
+Jasper was kind--kindness itself, and if she did feel just a trifle
+afraid of him, and if she could not help knowing all over her heart that
+the sun did not shine now for her, that there was a cloud between her
+husband and herself, which she could neither brush away nor penetrate,
+she made no outward sign of being anything different from the cheery and
+affectionate Hilda of old. There were subjects now, however, which she
+shrank from touching on in Jasper's presence. One of them was her
+engagement ring, another the furniture in Judy's room. That ring she had
+been told by more than one connoisseur was worth at least fifty pounds,
+and Hilda was certain that the simple furniture which made Judy's
+little room so bower-like and youthful could not have cost anything
+approaching that sum. Still Jasper said nothing about giving her change
+out of the money which he had spent, and Hilda feared to broach the
+subject of the ring to him. Another topic which by a sort of instinct
+she refrained from was Judy herself. When Jasper was in the house Hilda
+was always glad when Judy retired to her own room. When the gay little
+voice, happy now, and clear and sweet as a lark's, was heard singing
+snatches of gay songs all over the house, if Jasper were there, Hilda
+would carefully close the door of the room he was sitting in.
+
+"Not now, Judy darling," she would say, when the child bounded eagerly
+into their presence. "Jasper is just going out--when he is out I will
+attend to you. Go on with your drawing in the dining room until I come
+to you, Judy."
+
+Judy would go away at once obedient and happy, but Hilda's face would
+flush with anxiety, and her eyes would not meet her husband's. So
+between each of these young people there was that wall of reserve which
+is the sad beginning of love's departure; but Hilda, being the weaker of
+the two and having less to occupy her thoughts, suffered more than
+Jasper.
+
+On a certain evening when Judy had been a happy resident of No. 10
+Philippa Terrace for over a month, Quentyns was about to leave his
+office and to return home, when his friend Tom Rivers entered his room.
+
+"Have you any engagement for to-night, Quentyns?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"None," said Jasper, visible relief on his face, for he was beginning to
+dislike the evenings which he spent with a wife who always had a sense
+of constraint over her, and with the knowledge that Judy's presence was
+only tolerated when he was by. "I am at your service, Tom," said Jasper.
+"Do you want me to go anywhere with you?"
+
+Rivers was a great deal older than Quentyns, he was a very clever and
+practical man of the world. He looked now full at Jasper. He had not
+failed to observe the eager relief on his friend's face when he asked if
+he had any engagement. To a certain extent Jasper had made Rivers his
+confidant. He had told him that Hilda's little sister, who had been so
+ill and had given them all such a fright, was staying now at Philippa
+Terrace.
+
+Rivers shrewdly guessed that Hilda's little sister was scarcely a
+welcome guest, as far as Quentyns was concerned. Rivers had taken a
+fancy to pretty Mrs. Quentyns. With a quick mental survey he saw again
+the picture of the young wife on the night when he had dined at Philippa
+Terrace.
+
+"She did not look perfectly happy," he thought. "I hope Quentyns is good
+to her. I seldom saw a more charming face than hers, but with such eyes,
+so full of expression, so full of that sort of dumb, dog-like
+affectionateness, she must, she will suffer horribly if there comes a
+cloud between her husband and herself. Quentyns is the best of fellows,
+but he can be dogged and obstinate--I hope to goodness there's nothing
+up in that pretty little home of theirs."
+
+Aloud Rivers said abruptly, "I had thought of asking you to dine at the
+club with me, and then we might have gone to see Irving in _Henry
+VIII._,--a friend has given me two stalls,--but on second thoughts I can
+dispose of those tickets. What I should really like best is to come home
+with you, Quentyns, and have the pleasure of another chat with your
+wife. I want to hear you both sing too--I seldom heard two voices better
+suited to go together. May I invite myself to dinner to-night, Jasper?"
+
+"Oh, certainly," said Jasper, after a moment's awkward hesitation. "I'll
+just wire to Hilda, if you don't mind."
+
+"Not at all," said Rivers; "but remember, I am coming to take
+pot-luck."
+
+Jasper ran off to the nearest telegraph office.
+
+Rivers saw that his proposal was anything but welcome, but for that very
+reason he was determined to carry it out.
+
+An hour later he found himself standing in the pretty drawing room in
+Philippa Terrace, talking to the most charming little girl he had ever
+had the pleasure of meeting.
+
+Quentyns had run up at once to his room, and Hilda had not yet put in an
+appearance, but Judy, who was sitting on a sofa reading "Sylvie and
+Bruno," jumped up at once and came forward in her shy but self-possessed
+little way to meet her sister's guest.
+
+"How do you do?" she said. "Where would you like to sit?"
+
+"I prefer standing, thank you," said Rivers. He smiled at Judy and held
+out his hand. "So you are the young mutineer," he said suddenly.
+
+Judy's big eyes looked up at him in surprise--she was dressed in a green
+silk frock, with a broad golden-brown sash round her waist. Her dress
+was cut rather low in the neck, and she had several rows of golden-brown
+beads round her throat. The quaint dress suited the quaint but earnest
+little face.
+
+"What do you mean by calling me such a queer name?" said Judy.
+
+"I am a great friend of your brother-in-law's," said Rivers, now
+dropping into a chair and drawing the child toward him, "and he has told
+me all about you--you mutinied when Mrs. Quentyns went away--it was very
+wrong of you, very wrong indeed."
+
+"You can't judge anything about it," said Judy, the sensitive color
+coming into her face; "you are on Jasper's side, so you can't know."
+
+"Of course I'm on Jasper's side, he's an excellent fellow, and a great
+friend of mine."
+
+"I don't like him," said Judy; "it isn't to be expected I should."
+
+"Of course not, you wouldn't be a mutineer if you did."
+
+"I wish you wouldn't call me by that horrid name," said Judy. "I can't
+quite understand what it means, but I'm sure it's disagreeable."
+
+"A mutineer is always a disagreeable person," continued Rivers, looking
+with his pleasant eyes full at the child. "He is in a state of
+rebellion, you know. People aren't nice when they rebel against the
+inevitable."
+
+"What's the inevitable?" asked Judy.
+
+"The inevitable!" repeated Rivers. "The inevitable," he continued
+gravely, "is what has to be met because it cannot be avoided. The
+inevitable stands directly in a person's path; he can't go round it, he
+can't jump over it, he has just to meet it bravely and make the best
+friend he possibly can of it."
+
+"Oh," said Judy, "that sounds like a fairy tale. Babs and I love fairy
+tales, particularly the old, old ones--the Jack the Giant Killer
+sort--you understand?"
+
+"Jack the Giant Killer had lots of inevitables to meet," pursued Rivers.
+
+"Yes, of course," said Judy; "now I know what you mean as far as dear
+Jack was concerned, but I don't know what you mean about me."
+
+"Well, you see, Miss Judy--you don't mind my calling Jasper's little
+sister Miss Judy?"
+
+"Oh, don't talk of him," said Judy, a frown between her brows.
+
+"But I must if I'm to explain my meaning to you, for he's the
+inevitable."
+
+"Now what _do_ you mean?--you're the most puzzling sort of grown-up
+person I ever met!"
+
+"And you're the most intelligent sort of little person I ever met. Now
+let me explain matters to you. Your sister is very pretty, isn't she?"
+
+"Pretty?" said Judy meditatively--"pretty is such a common sort of
+word--if you call flowers pretty, Hilda is, I suppose, but she's much,
+much more than pretty."
+
+"I understand. I'm quite sure I understand you perfectly. And your
+sister is good too, and sweet?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" Judy's eyes filled with tears, she blinked her eyelashes and
+looked out of the window.
+
+"Well, now," said Rivers, and his voice was quite tender, for Judy's
+manner and attitude touched him wonderfully. "Well, now, you see it was
+inevitable that some man should love a woman like your sister, and want
+to make her his wife, and wish to take her altogether to himself. It was
+inevitable, also, that a woman with a gentle heart like Mrs. Quentyns
+should love this man in return and want to devote her life to him."
+
+"Don't!" said Judy, suddenly; "I understand you now, I don't want you to
+say another word." She crossed over to the window and stood there with
+her back to Rivers, looking gravely out.
+
+Hilda came down in her rose-colored silk, and Rivers did not wonder that
+Judy thought of the flowers when she looked at her.
+
+Hilda was unfeignedly glad to see him, and they had a pleasanter evening
+than any since Judy's advent in Philippa Terrace. Rivers paid a great
+deal of attention to the smallest and youngest member of the party, and
+not only completely won Hilda's heart by so doing, but induced Quentyns
+to look at his little sister-in-law with new eyes, and to discover for
+the first time, that under certain conditions that wistful little face
+could be both lovely and charming.
+
+"Remember about the inevitable," said Rivers, as he bade the child
+good-night.
+
+"What did Mr. Rivers mean, Judy?" said Hilda. "Oh, Judy, what flushed
+cheeks!--I did wrong to let you sit up, but you seemed so happy--you
+seemed to take such a fancy to Mr. Rivers."
+
+"He was disagreeable to me--very disagreeable," said Judy, "but I liked
+him."
+
+"And what did he mean by reminding you of the inevitable?" continued
+Hilda.
+
+"It was in that way he was disagreeable," replied Judy. "I can't
+explain, Hilda darling; good-night--I am going to bed now."
+
+That evening, in their own room, Hilda came suddenly to her husband's
+side.
+
+"Jasper, don't you think you might forget about it now?" she said
+timidly.
+
+"Forget about what, Hilda?" He had been genial and pleasant until she
+began to speak; now his face stiffened in every outline, and the look
+came over it which always took poor Hilda's courage away.
+
+"We were so happy to-night," she began in a faltering voice--"we had
+quite the best evening we have had since----" here she hesitated.
+
+"Since Judy came," pursued Jasper. "Yes, that goes without saying, there
+were four of us--even the dearest friends are dull when there are three,
+and of course Rivers is capital company, he's quite the best fellow all
+round I ever met."
+
+"Oh, yes!" said Hilda, a little impatiently, "but I don't want to talk
+of him. Jasper dear, let us forget, let us--oh, let us be as we were
+before."
+
+Tears choked her voice, she turned her head away.
+
+"I am so tired," she said suddenly; "I am the sort of girl who wants
+sunshine, I am so tired of being without it."
+
+"When you talk in that metaphorical style I fail to understand you,"
+said Quentyns. "There's not the least cloud between us that I am aware
+of, and if you are not in the sunshine, Hilda, I am afraid it is your
+own fault. I have done everything in my power to meet your wishes. You
+profess great love for me, and great love for your sister, and now you
+have us both, what can you possibly want besides?"
+
+"Only your forgiveness, your complete and full forgiveness."
+
+"I have nothing to forgive, my dear. You do your best--no one can do
+better than their best."
+
+"No," said poor Hilda, with a sigh. She did not add any more.
+
+"I trust you are not going to turn into a fanciful sort of woman," said
+Quentyns, half an hour later. "If there's a person in the world who
+irritates me it's a woman with whims, a woman who has a grievance."
+
+"Oh, no, Jasper! I won't have a grievance," she replied humbly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+THREE IS TRUMPERY.
+
+    The crown must be won for Heaven, dear,
+    In the battle-field of life:
+    My child, though thy foes are strong and tried,
+    He loveth the weak and small;
+    The Angels of Heaven are on thy side,
+    And God is over all!
+
+                    --ADELAIDE PROCTOR.
+
+
+Judy's life was sunshine, and therefore Judy got quickly well; she was
+like the birds and the flowers--give her sunshine enough, and she would
+sing like the birds and bloom like the flowers. Hilda was her sun, and
+now she was always basking herself in the beloved presence. Her cup of
+happiness was full, and such contentment reigned in her little heart
+that no moment was dull to her, and time never hung heavy on her hands.
+
+Hilda was just as sweet and loving as of old, and really, now that she
+lived in the house with him, Jasper, her _bete noire_, the awful big
+brother-in-law who had come and stolen her treasure away, seemed to make
+but little difference in her life; it was almost nicer being with Hilda
+in London than being with Hilda at the old Rectory--she seemed to get
+more undivided attention from her sister than when that sister was the
+Rector's right hand in his busy life, and when Judy had to learn lessons
+with Babs, and walk with stupid, non-comprehending Miss Mills.
+
+Now Judy learned rapidly, for Hilda was her teacher; and how delightful
+that lunch was which was also Judy's early dinner, when she and her
+sister sat _tete-a-tete_, and talked always, always of old times.
+
+If visitors dropped in at tea-time Judy could afford, in her generous
+happiness, to give them a little of her fascinating Hilda's attention,
+for so often now there were heavenly evenings to follow, when that _bete
+noire_ the brother-in-law was not coming home, and the two sisters could
+be alone.
+
+Judy loved the cozy sort of tea-dinners which began those evenings, and
+then the long talk afterward in the lengthening twilight, when she sat
+on a stool at Hilda's feet, with her head pressed up against Hilda's
+arm, and her happy heart beating close to the other heart, which was all
+her world.
+
+On those evenings too Hilda came upstairs and tucked her up in her white
+bed, and said, _Now I lay me down to sleep_ to her, just as she used in
+the old nursery at home, after mother died.
+
+It was an understood thing, although no words had passed between the
+two--it was an understood thing, that on the evenings when Jasper was at
+home, Hilda should not come upstairs to Judy. This seemed a perfectly
+fair and just arrangement, they were both in full accord on the subject;
+but Judy could not help loving those days when she might have her sister
+all to herself the best.
+
+On the morning after Rivers had dined in Philippa Terrace, as Jasper was
+preparing to go out as usual, Hilda ran into the little hall to give him
+a last word; she left the door of the dining room ajar, which was not
+her invariable custom, and Judy, sitting at the breakfast table, found
+herself in the position of an eavesdropper.
+
+"You are coming back to dinner to-night?" asked the wife.
+
+Jasper had been visited with some slight qualms of compunction that
+morning, as he noticed how much paler Hilda's face was than when first
+he had married her, so he put his arm round her neck now, and looking at
+her with something of his old tenderness, said gently:
+
+"Do you really wish it?"
+
+"Jasper, how can you doubt?" she replied. "All the moments you are away
+from me are long and wearisome."
+
+"Long and wearisome," repeated Judy softly to herself in the breakfast
+parlor. Some of the color fled out of her face now; she lost her
+appetite for the bread-and-butter and marmalade which she was eating.
+
+"You don't find three trumpery," pursued Jasper. Then he added with a
+little sigh, "I wish I didn't; but I'll come home, Hilda, if you wish
+it. Good-by, my dear. Stay, stop a moment; suppose I take you to the
+play to-night. Judy won't mind going to bed a little earlier than
+usual."
+
+Just at that moment Hilda started and looked round; she heard a slight
+noise, and wondered if Susan were coming upstairs. The sound which
+disturbed her was made by Judy, who, awaking suddenly to the knowledge
+that she was an eavesdropper, had risen from the breakfast table and had
+gently closed the dining-room door.
+
+"Of course Judy doesn't mind being left," said Hilda in a joyful tone.
+"I should love to go out somewhere with you, Jasper. I really do want a
+little bit of change."
+
+"Very well, my love; I'll take tickets for something amusing, and be
+home to dinner at six."
+
+Quentyns went out, and Hilda danced back to the dining room. Her husband
+had been kind, with something of the old tender kindness, and her heart
+leaped up like a flower answering to the sun.
+
+Judy was standing by the window looking out.
+
+"Isn't it a lovely day, pet?" said Hilda, coming up to her. "Suppose we
+give ourselves a holiday, and go to the Academy together. I have not
+been there yet this year, and you have never been in all your life,
+puss. You know how you love pictures; fancy room after room full of
+pictures--all sorts, good, bad, and indifferent; all colors in them; all
+sorts of subjects depicted on the canvases. There's a treat for my
+little artist--shall I give it her?"
+
+"Yes, Hilda, I'd like to go with you very much."
+
+"Are you tired, dear, your face is so grave?"
+
+"No, darling, I'm not at all tired."
+
+"Well, we'll give ourselves a holiday. Run up and put on your pretty
+green cloak, and that big black hat with the green velvet. I want you to
+look as picturesque as possible. I want to be proud of you."
+
+Judy suddenly flew to Hilda, clasped her arms round her neck, gave her
+a passionate hug, and then rushed out of the room.
+
+"What's the matter with the child?" thought the elder sister for a brief
+moment, "she was so bright yesterday, and even this morning, but now
+she's dull, although she tries to hide it. I wonder if I ought to give
+her some more of her tonic. Well, well, whether Judy is grave or gay, I
+cannot help feeling very happy at the thought of going out with Jasper
+once more."
+
+Hilda gave all directions with regard to the nice little dinner which
+was to precede the play. She found a story book which Judy had not yet
+read, and left it in the drawing room ready for her entertainment when
+she was away; then, dressed also in her best, she went out with her
+little sister, and, calling a hansom from the nearest stand, drove to
+Burlington House.
+
+As usual the great exhibition was crowded with all sorts and conditions
+of men--the fashionable, the studious, the artistic, the ignorant, were
+all to be found there. Judy had a passion for art. She was an artist by
+nature, down to the tips of her sensitive little fingers. No sooner did
+she find herself in the midst of all the pictures, than whatever cloud
+made her a little graver than usual took to itself wings and flew away.
+
+Her pertinent remarks, her eager criticism, shrewd, observant, often
+strangely to the point, aroused the attention of some of the bystanders;
+they smiled as the pretty child and the beautiful girl walked slowly by
+together. Judy's intelligent face was commented on; the pathetic, eager,
+wistful eyes seemed to make their way to more than one heart. Hilda,
+thinking of her evening with Jasper, was quite her old self, and people
+thought what a happy pair the two were.
+
+In the third room they suddenly came face to face with Rivers.
+
+"What a bit of luck!" he said, going up at once to them. "Now, Mrs.
+Quentyns, I shall insist upon taking you to lunch somewhere. Miss Judy,
+how are you? what do you think of our national picture fair?"
+
+"Some of the pictures are lovely," she replied.
+
+"Some!" he retorted, raising his brows. "You don't mean to say you are
+setting yourself up as a critic."
+
+"Judy is an artist by nature," said Hilda for her. "Hark to her remarks
+with regard to the two dogs in that picture."
+
+"They are meant to move, but they are perfectly still," said Judy; "if I
+drew them, I'd"--she puckered her brows--"oh, I'd see that they were
+gamboling about."
+
+A young man, who was standing not far off, turned away with a red
+face--he happened to be the unfortunate artist. Bitter hatred of Judy
+filled his heart, for some of the people who were standing near tittered
+aloud, and remarked for the first time that the dogs were wooden.
+
+Rivers walked with Mrs. Quentyns and Judy through the different rooms:
+he was an art connoisseur himself, and even dabbled in paint in a
+dilettante sort of fashion. He drew Judy on to make remarks, laughed and
+quizzed her for some ideas which he considered in advance of the times,
+for others which were altogether too antiquated for him to pass
+unchallenged.
+
+"Oh, how Stanmore would like to hear you," he remarked, naming one of
+the pet artists of the New Art school. "Why, Judy, you are a democrat;
+we should have no Academy if we listened to you, you little rebel; but
+then, I forgot, of course you are a mutineer--you are true to your
+character through everything."
+
+Hilda scarcely listened as the young man and the child chatted and
+laughed together, her heart was dwelling altogether in the future. She
+fancied herself even now driving to the play by her husband's side; she
+saw the pretty dress she meant to wear; in her mind was reflected as in
+a picture the image of her fair self, and the image also of the man who
+was still in her heart lover as well as husband. No matter for the
+present cloud, he was still her lover. She wondered if he would give her
+another tender glance, and if, as they sat side by side when the curtain
+was up and the actors were moving about on the stage, he would touch her
+hand with his, and show her in that way that she was forgiven.
+
+"If he would only understand that I must keep both my vows," she
+murmured, "if I could only get him to really comprehend that much, much
+as I love my Judy, I would rather be alone with him--that is, I would
+rather be alone with him, if it makes him unhappy to have my sweet
+little Judy in the house. But how happy she is since I brought her home;
+how gay her voice sounds now."
+
+"I said you were a mutineer," laughed Rivers. "I know by your manner
+that you will never put up with the inevitable."
+
+"Don't!" said Judy; Hilda was looking at a lovely landscape, a friend
+she knew came up and spoke to her. "Don't!" said Judy, turning and
+looking full at the young man; her eyes were grave, her childish face
+grew suddenly white and drawn. "Perhaps I am going to give up being a
+mutineer," she murmured.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+A LITTLE GIRL AND A LITTLE CROSS.
+
+    Love that hath us in the net,
+    Can he pass, and we forget?
+    Many suns arise and set,
+    Many a chance the years beget.
+    Love the gift is love the debt.
+                      Even so.
+
+    Love is hurt with jar and fret.
+    Love is made a vague regret.
+    Eyes with idle tears are wet.
+    Idle habit links us yet,
+    What is love? for we forget:
+                  Ah, no! no!
+
+                    --TENNYSON.
+
+
+Mrs. Quentyns and Judy enjoyed their lunch with Rivers. They went into
+the Park afterward for a short time, and then Hilda, remembering that
+the hours were flying, and that she must be dressed and ready to receive
+her husband before six that evening, bade the young man a hasty good-by,
+and drove home with Judy.
+
+"I am so glad you are going to the play," said the little girl. "Why
+don't you often go--why don't you constantly go out in the evening?"
+
+"If I did, Judy, what a dull time you'd have."
+
+"You're quite mistaken, Hilda; I shouldn't be dull at all. You don't
+know how I like story-books, and Susan is such a nice girl. She has got
+brothers and sisters at home, and she tells me about them when you are
+out. I am never lonely; I couldn't possibly be sad in the same house
+with you. If I saw you once or twice a day it would be enough for me--it
+would really."
+
+"My dear little pet," laughed Hilda, "how solemnly you are talking, what
+a frightfully earnest tone has got into your voice, and how you are
+puckering your poor little forehead. I have only one thing to say in
+reply to your generous wish to leave me so much by myself, namely, that
+I should find it extremely inconvenient and extremely lonely to have you
+in the house and only see you twice a day."
+
+"But suppose I weren't with you at all, Hilda--suppose I were still at
+the Rectory."
+
+"That would be different," said Hilda, in a light tone; "you would be in
+your natural home, and I----"
+
+"But you _would_ be lonely if I were away from you, Hilda; do say you'd
+be fearfully lonely!"
+
+The passion in Judy's voice was unnoticed by Hilda.
+
+"I'd miss you, of course, my pet," she said; "but I do declare that
+stupid driver is taking us wrong. Oh, if he goes up that way it will be
+such a round that I shall be late for Jasper's dinner. Poke your parasol
+through the little window in the roof, Judy, and stop him, do."
+
+Judy obeyed, the driver received his directions in due course, and a
+moment or two later Hilda and Judy were standing in the little hall at
+Philippa Terrace. Quentyns came suddenly forward.
+
+"Why, Jasper, you have come back already," said the wife. "It isn't five
+yet, but I--I can dress in no time. Have you got the tickets?--where are
+we going?"
+
+"Come into the drawing room, Hilda, I want to say a word to you," said
+Quentyns.
+
+"Run upstairs and take your things off, Judy," said Hilda. She followed
+her husband into the little drawing room and shut the door. "Well?" she
+said. Her voice was still gay, but a little, just a little, of the old
+fear was creeping back into her heart.
+
+"I am ever so sorry, Hilda, to disappoint you," said Quentyns, "but when
+I went to town this morning I absolutely forgot an engagement I made a
+week ago. I have to go down with two or three men to Richmond. We are to
+dine at the Star and Garter, and afterward Philip Danvers has asked me
+to go home with him. The Danvers are charming people--have a beautiful
+house on the river, and everything in the best possible style. I should
+rather like to cultivate them. It is never a good plan to throw over
+friends who may be influential; still, if you really wish it, Hilda,
+I'll come home to-night and make some sort of excuse to Danvers--wire to
+him that I am ill, or something of the kind. Of course it is too late
+for me to get tickets for the play, but if you would like me to stay at
+home, I'll--I'll do it--so there!"
+
+Hilda's face, which had been white, was now flushed.
+
+"Why didn't you tell me this morning?" she said. "Why did you forget? I
+spent a day of hope, and now--now----" Her eyes filled with sudden
+tears, she bit her lips and turned away.
+
+Her action, which seemed almost pettish, annoyed Quentyns.
+
+"You needn't cry," he said. "I never supposed you could be so childish.
+Do you think I forgot on purpose? I was looking forward to my time at
+Richmond, but it slipped my memory that this was the day. You needn't
+cry, however, for if you have suddenly taken such a frantic desire for
+my society, it is at your service. I shall go out and wire to Danvers,
+and be back again in half an hour."
+
+After all, Mrs. Quentyns had plenty of self-control. The annoyance and
+distress in her voice had altogether left it when she spoke again.
+
+"Of course you must go, Jasper," she said. "You don't suppose for a
+quarter of an instant that I should stand in your way. Let me go up with
+you and help you to put the things you want into a bag, and you will
+want some tea before you start. I'll ring and tell Susan to prepare it.
+Now come along, dear; I'm glad of course that you are having this
+pleasure."
+
+As Hilda ran upstairs her manner was once more quite cheerful. Quentyns,
+however, whose conscience was smiting him, although he didn't know it,
+could not help acting more or less like a bear with a sore head.
+
+"I shouldn't have accepted the invitation," he said, "upon my word I
+shouldn't, did I not know that you would have Judy to keep you company.
+You know I haven't that passion for children you have, and----"
+
+The door was closed behind the two.
+
+"Don't say any more," said Hilda, in a frightened sort of voice. "I told
+you I was glad that you were to have the pleasure. Now which bag will
+you take? Will the small Gladstone be large enough?"
+
+Ten minutes later Quentyns had left the house in a hansom, and Hilda
+went up to Judy's room.
+
+"Come downstairs, darling," she said, "we are to have another long
+evening all to ourselves. What a good thing I've got my sweet little
+sister to stay at home with me. Judy, this was to be a festive night,
+and I had quite a festive dinner prepared. Suppose we keep the occasion,
+although we are only to be by ourselves. You shall dine with me
+to-night, Judy, and we'll both dress for dinner. You shall wear white,
+for you look so sweet in white, and I'll do the same."
+
+"Have you got the old India muslin dress that you used to wear at the
+Rectory before--before there was a Jasper?" said Judy, in a queer,
+steady kind of little voice. "If you have that old India muslin that
+father loved and Aunt Marjorie loved, and that Babs and I used always to
+say you looked like an angel in, will you put it on to-night,
+Hilda?--will you wear that dress once again?"
+
+"What a queer thing!" replied Hilda. "I never threw the old muslin away.
+I think I can poke it out of some depths somewhere; and it is so soft
+that, if I shake it out and hang it up for about half an hour, it will
+be quite presentable. Yon funny Judy, why do you wish to see me in that
+dress?"
+
+"You were all mine when you wore that dress last," said Judy.
+
+"I am always yours, my dearest. But don't let us talk sentiment; let us
+make ourselves smart, and let us come downstairs and be happy. We'll
+imagine that we are at a very gay party; heaps and heaps of other people
+in the room, but we two, as is sometimes the case, are more or less
+alone in the crowd. We are so completely one that other people scarcely
+affect us. We can talk together, and whisper old secrets about the
+garden, and Babs, and the animals, and the organ in the church, and the
+funny chorister-boy who would never sing in tune; we can talk of all
+these things, although there are throngs and throngs around us, for in a
+crowd those who love each other often find the best sort of solitude.
+Come down, Judy, come down, and let's be happy!"
+
+"How flushed you are, Hilda; are you well?"
+
+"Yes; I never felt better."
+
+"You look awfully pretty; you look quite lovely."
+
+"What a dear little flatterer you are! Does it really matter whether I
+look pretty or not? Aunt Marjorie would scold you, child, for praising
+my looks to my face; she would say you were encouraging vanity."
+
+"And I should tell her to her face that I was not," answered Judy
+stoutly. "It's right to look beautiful; it's copying the flowers. Now
+run and put on your India muslin dress, Hilda."
+
+Hilda left the room, and half an hour later the two sisters met in the
+little drawing room. There were fresh flowers in the vases; and a great
+bowl of primroses, which Aunt Marjorie had sent from the Rectory, was
+placed on the little table in the square bay-window.
+
+Judy in her white dress stood near the flowers. She took up one, and in
+an absent sort of fashion pulled it to pieces. Susan announced dinner,
+and the sisters dined together in great state, and with apparent
+enjoyment. Hilda joked about everything, and Judy, catching up her
+spirit, did likewise.
+
+"Let us imagine, just for to-night, that I am grown-up," she said;
+"treat me as if I were your grown sister--not your little
+sister--Hilda."
+
+Hilda felt in the humor to comply with any request Judy made.
+
+"We will have our coffee in the drawing room," she said. "Black coffee
+for me, please, Susan, but bring in a little jug of cream for Miss
+Judy's. Now, dearest," turning to the child, "don't forget that the play
+is going on; we have dined out with numbers, oh, numbers of guests, and
+now we are in the large assembly-room, alone in the crowd, happy because
+we are together."
+
+Judy had thrown herself back into a deep arm-chair in the little drawing
+room while Hilda was speaking; her eyes had a sort of starry radiance
+about them, her cheeks were slightly flushed, her cloudy soft brown hair
+was thrown back from her white brow.
+
+Hilda moved about the room; she was restless notwithstanding the
+enforced calm she was putting upon herself. Judy smiled when Hilda
+spoke, but in her heart certain words kept repeating themselves--they
+had repeated themselves like a sort of mournful echo in that poor little
+heart all day.
+
+"All the moments you are away from me are long and wearisome," Hilda had
+said to her husband. "All the moments."
+
+And then he had said to her:
+
+"You don't find three trumpery. I wish I didn't!"
+
+"So I'm the trumpery," thought Judy to herself. "I'm three. And all the
+moments while Hilda is away from Jasper are long and wearisome. Poor
+Hilda! poor darling! how well she hid it all from me; how good, how very
+good she has been to me; but I'm glad I know. It was a lucky, a very
+lucky thing that the door of the breakfast room was left slightly open
+this morning, and so I was able to hear Jasper's words."
+
+"How silent you are, dearest," said Hilda, looking at the child.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said Judy, jumping up. "I was thinking."
+
+"Think aloud then, sweet. Let me share your pretty thoughts."
+
+"But they are not pretty, Hilda; and I think I'd rather no one shared
+them. Now let us talk about old times--about the dear old times before
+there was a Jasper."
+
+"Judy," said Hilda, "there is just one thing I should like to say to
+you. Even if it gives you pain, I ought to remind you, my darling, that
+Jasper is my husband; that I love him. Oh! Judy, Judy, my heart aches
+with love to him. My heart aches because I love my husband so much."
+
+Judy clenched her hands; a great wave of crimson swept over her face.
+Hilda had hidden her own face in her hands, and did not notice the
+child's agitation. Presently the little sister's hand softly touched her
+forehead.
+
+"And you're lonely to-night, poor Hilda, because your Jasper is away?"
+
+"Yes, Judy, it's true. I'm afraid even to tell you how lonely I am."
+
+"And you've been trying to seem cheerful, just to please me."
+
+"And to please myself too," said Hilda, starting up and wiping the tears
+from her eyes. "There, we won't talk about it any more; we'll go on
+pretending that we are having an awfully jolly time."
+
+"You're very brave, Hilda," said Judy; "and when people are brave,
+things generally come right. Now, may I sit on your knee, just as if I
+were a baby instead of a tall girl with long legs? _I_ wouldn't make you
+unhappy, Hilda darling. When there's an inevitable I must face it; I
+must, and you will see that I will. Jack the Giant Killer shan't beat
+_me_ over difficulties when I've made up my mind."
+
+"Judy, your face is flushed, and your eyes are too bright; that strong
+coffee was bad for you, you won't sleep to-night."
+
+"I dare say I shan't sleep; but now let us talk of old times."
+
+"Only for a few moments, dear; you look so excited that I shall not
+rest until I see you safely in bed."
+
+Judy laughed, and declared stoutly that she never felt better.
+
+Half an hour afterward she went up to her pretty little bedroom, Hilda
+promising to follow her in about a quarter of an hour, if she possibly
+could.
+
+When the elder sister entered the room, she found Judy standing by her
+bed in her frilled night-dress.
+
+"You will get cold, love--do get into bed," said Hilda.
+
+"I want to say my prayers to you, Hilda, if you don't mind," said Judy,
+"just as I used when I was a very little girl."
+
+"Of course, darling, if you wish it."
+
+Hilda sat down, and the little sister knelt at her knee.
+
+The old baby prayers were said aloud; but suddenly, in the midst of
+them, Judy bent her head and murmured something which Hilda could not
+hear.
+
+She jumped up a moment later and put her arms round her sister's neck.
+
+"You won't be lonely long, Hilda," she said. "It will be all right;
+you'll see it will be as right as possible. I am glad you are fond of
+Jasper. I am really, really, awfully glad."
+
+"Good-night, my darling," said Hilda, kissing her. She went out of the
+room with tears in her eyes.
+
+"Poor little Judy, how little she knows," thought the elder sister; "how
+very little she knows what a cloud there is between Jasper and me. Oh,
+if it goes on much longer, I think my heart will break!"
+
+In the meantime, in her pretty white bed, Judy was murmuring an old text
+to herself:
+
+"He that taketh not up his cross and followeth after Me, cannot be My
+disciple."
+
+Once, long ago, the Rector had explained this text, or rather given a
+shadow of its meaning to the child.
+
+"Followeth after Me," she murmured; and a vision came to her of One who,
+in the great cause of Love, had taken up His cross, even to death.
+
+She wiped the tears from her eyes, and fell asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+JUDY'S SECRET.
+
+    Be strong to _hope_, oh, Heart!
+      Though day is bright,
+    The stars can only shine
+      In the dark night.
+    Be strong, oh, Heart of mine,
+      Look towards the light!
+
+                    --ADELAIDE PROCTOR.
+
+
+The next morning Judy was down specially early to breakfast.
+
+Her cheeks were slightly more flushed than usual, and her eyes, to
+anyone who watched them closely, had a determined, almost hard,
+expression in them. Hilda, however, was too much occupied with her own
+sad thoughts to take any special notice of the child.
+
+"You look well, Judy," she said, giving a quick glance at her. "Now come
+to breakfast, dear, I've a good deal to do afterward."
+
+"Are you going out, Hilda?" asked Judy.
+
+"No, I'm going to be busy all the morning over my accounts; they've got
+into the most disgraceful muddle, and I want to put them straight. I
+shall be in the drawing room, for I keep all my household books in the
+davenport there. I mean to give you a holiday, Judy, but perhaps you
+won't mind reading some of your history to yourself, and doing a few
+sums this morning."
+
+"Of course not," said Judy brightly. "Shall I make you some toast,
+Hilda? This in the toast-rack is so soft and flabby--do let me, Hilda."
+
+"If you like, dear, you may. It is lucky there is a fire, but I must
+tell cook to discontinue them, the weather is getting so warm."
+
+Judy was an adept at making toast, and it was an old fashion at the
+Rectory that Hilda's toast should be made by her, on those blissful
+red-letter days when the elder sister had tea with the little ones in
+the nursery.
+
+Judy wondered as she delicately browned that toast, and scorched her own
+little cheeks, if Hilda would remember the old days, and the toast which
+she used to make her; but Mrs. Quentyns seemed to be in a sort of brown
+study that morning, and thanked the child absently when the crisp hot
+toast was put on her plate.
+
+"Jasper will be home quite early to-day, won't he, Hilda?" inquired
+Judy.
+
+"I don't know, Judy--yes, I suppose so."
+
+"I'm sure he'll be home early," repeated Judy with confidence; "perhaps
+he'll take you to the play to-night, and perhaps you'll be awfully
+happy."
+
+"Oh, don't talk about it, Judy," said Hilda, in a weary voice; "we must
+all make up our minds to face the fact that there's a great deal _more_
+than mere happiness in the world. What is happiness? It's only a small
+part of life."
+
+"I don't think it is going to be a small part of your life, Hilda; but
+now I'm not going to idle you any more, for you want to get to your
+accounts."
+
+Judy ran out of the room. As she was going slowly upstairs, she paused
+once to say softly to herself:
+
+"It's all happening beautifully; I ought to be glad. Of course I am
+glad. '_He that taketh not up his cross._' I'm glad that text keeps
+running in my head, it makes me so nice and strong."
+
+Susan was doing out Judy's room when the little girl ran into it. Judy
+was fond of Susan, and Susan of her, and the girl stopped her work now
+to listen to the child's eager words.
+
+"Susan, do you think Mrs. Quentyns would let you come out with me for a
+little this morning, for about an hour or an hour and a half?"
+
+"Well, miss," said Susan, "it aint Monday, which is the day to get ready
+for the laundry, nor yet Wednesday, when I turns out the drawing room,
+nor Friday, which is silver day--there's nothing special for Thursday; I
+should think I could go with you, Miss Judy, and it will be a treat to
+take you about. Is it Mme. Tussand's you has a hankerin' for, Miss?"
+
+"No, no, Susan, I'm not going to any exhibition; it's a secret--I'll
+tell you when we're out."
+
+"The Dore Gallery, perhaps?" suggested Susan.
+
+"No, it's nothing of that sort; I'll tell you when we're out."
+
+"Very well, miss, I'm proud to be at your service whatever it is."
+
+"I'll run down now and ask my sister if you may come with me, Susan."
+
+Judy threw her arms round Hilda as she was coming up from the kitchen
+premises.
+
+"Hilda, the day is so fine!"
+
+"No, Judy, you mustn't tempt me to go out. I really have to get those
+accounts straight, they quite weigh on my mind."
+
+"So you shall, Hilda darling; but I was wondering if after I've read my
+history and done my sums, and a little bit of writing I want to get
+through, if you'd let Susan--if you'd let Susan take me out."
+
+"Susan!" repeated Hilda, "but I can go with you myself this afternoon."
+
+"I know, only I do so want a run on this fine morning, and Susan says
+it's not laundry day, nor drawing-room day, nor silver day; it's
+Thursday, which is nothing special; she can come, may she, Hilda?--do
+say yes."
+
+"It's not like you, Judy," said Hilda, "to be in this impatient state. I
+would rather you did not propose plans to the servants without first
+consulting me, darling, it rather puts them out of their place; but as
+you have done it, and as you are the best of dear little girls, I
+suppose I must say 'yes' on this occasion. If Susan hurries with her
+work, she may take you out: but of course you won't be very long, will
+you?"
+
+To this question Judy made no reply. She gave Hilda a tight clasp and a
+fierce kiss, and rushed away.
+
+"Susan, you're to hurry with your work, for you may come," she shouted,
+almost boisterously, to the parlor-maid, and then she ran down to the
+dining room and shut the door behind her.
+
+"It's happening beautifully," she murmured again; "how lucky that I
+never spent godmother's sovereign. And now to write my letter to Hilda.
+I'm not going to waste my time crying, there'll be time enough for that
+by and by--that's if I want to cry, perhaps I shan't. When I think of
+how very happy Hilda will be, perhaps my heart will sing. But now for
+the letter--Hilda mustn't find it too soon; I'll put it under her
+pin-cushion, then perhaps she won't see it for some hours after I've
+gone, but now I must write it."
+
+Judy took out her own little blotting-book, placed a sheet of paper
+before her, and began laboriously, with little fingers which rapidly got
+ink-stained, to put a few words on the paper.
+
+    "DARLING HILDA,
+
+    "You'll be s'prised when you get this. I'm going home. I'm quite
+    well now, and I'm not going to fret, but I'm going to be
+    _really_ happy. Good-by, Hilda; I love you awfully.
+
+                    "Your
+                          "JUDY."
+
+This little note was put into an envelope, and sealed with some precious
+red wax, and before she left the house Judy found an opportunity to put
+it under Hilda's pin-cushion.
+
+"It doesn't tell her a bit what I think, nor what I feel," murmured the
+poor child. "But it's best for her just to suppose that I _want_ to go
+home. She'll be happy all the sooner if she thinks that."
+
+Susan was rather elated at escaping housework, and at being allowed to
+go out so early in the morning. She was especially fond of Judy, and
+would do anything in the world for her. Now, therefore, principally on
+Judy's account, but also in the hope that the baker might happen to see
+her as she passed his shop, she put on her very smartest hat and her
+very best jacket, and patiently waited in the front hall for Judy's
+appearance.
+
+Hilda came out of the drawing room to see the two as they went off.
+
+"You had better take an omnibus, and get out at Kensington Gardens," she
+said to the maid. "I shall expect you back in time to get lunch ready,
+Susan. Judy pet, give me a kiss before you go."
+
+Judy had lost her roses now, her face was pale, and there were dark
+shadows under her big eyes. Her little voice, however, had a very stout,
+determined tone about it.
+
+"Good-by, Hilda," she said; "one kiss--two, three kisses, Hilda; it is
+good of you to let us out,--and we are going to be so jolly. Good-by,
+darling Hilda."
+
+"Good-by, Judy," said Hilda.
+
+She kissed the child, but in a pre-occupied manner--the cloud which
+weighed on her heart was oppressing her, and dulling her usually keen
+perceptions where Judy was concerned.
+
+"It's all the better," thought the little girl, "it's easier to say
+good-by when she's not extra loving."
+
+Hilda went back to her accounts, and Judy and Susan walked down the
+terrace, and turning the corner were lost to view.
+
+They had gone on a little way, and Susan was about to hail a passing
+omnibus, when Judy suddenly put her hand on the servant's arm.
+
+"Susan," she said, "I am going to tell you the secret now. You'll be
+_sure_ to keep it?"
+
+"Well, of course, miss, I'll do my best--I hope I aint one of the
+blabbing sort."
+
+"I don't think you are, Susan--you look as if a person could trust you.
+I'm going to trust you with a most important thing."
+
+"Very well, miss--I'll be proud I'm sure; but hadn't we better stop that
+'bus--there's the conductor looking at us."
+
+"Does that 'bus go in the direction of Waterloo Station?" asked Judy.
+
+"Waterloo--bless you, Miss Judy--I don't know whether it do or not. I
+don't s'pose so for a quarter of a minute. Waterloo is miles from
+here--that I do know. But it's nothing to us where Waterloo is, miss,
+it's to Kensington Gardens we're going, and the 'bus has gone on now, so
+there's no good our worrying ourselves about it. Another will pass us in
+a minute. There are plenty half empty at this hour of the day."
+
+"I wish you would stop talking, Susan, and let me explain what I mean,"
+said Judy, almost fretfully. "It's to Waterloo I want to go, not to
+Kensington Gardens. Do you hear me--do you understand what I'm saying?"
+
+"I suppose you're joking me, Miss Judy. My missis said we were to go to
+Kensington Gardens."
+
+"Please, Susan, stop for a minute. I want to say something very
+important. _I am going home._ That's the secret. I am going home to Aunt
+Marjorie and to father, and my little sister Babs, and the way home is
+by Waterloo, so I must get there. Now do you understand? That's the
+secret--I am going home to-day."
+
+Judy's face was so pale, and her words so intensely earnest, that Susan
+saw at last that the secret was no joking matter, but something real and
+hard to bear.
+
+"Now I wonder what the little dear is up to," she said under her breath.
+
+"You know, Miss Judy, pet," she replied aloud in as soothing a voice as
+she could command, "that you don't really mean to run away like
+that,--for it is running away to go back to your home, and never say a
+word to Mrs. Quentyns, and she so wrapped up in you, and your room
+furnished so prettily and all."
+
+Judy had to gulp down a sob before she answered Susan.
+
+"I didn't expect you to understand me," she said with a dignity which
+made a deep impression on the maid. "I'm not running away, and I'm doing
+right not wrong. You don't suppose it's always very pleasant to do
+right, but sometimes one can't think about what's pleasant. I wouldn't
+have asked you to help me at all, Susan, but I don't know how to get to
+Waterloo Station. Of course I came from there with my sister, but I
+didn't notice the road we took, nor anything about it. I know we were a
+long time in a cab, so I suppose the station is a good way from Philippa
+Terrace. What you have got to do now, Susan, is to obey me, and not to
+ask any questions. I really know what I'm about, and I promise that you
+shan't get into any trouble."
+
+But to Judy's surprise Susan was firm.
+
+"I won't have hand nor part in the matter," she said; "I was told to
+take you to Kensington Gardens, miss, and it's there we've got to go,
+or we'll turn round and go back to Philippa Terrace."
+
+For a moment or two Judy felt afraid that all her plans were in
+jeopardy. She might of course call a cab on her own account, and trust
+the driver to take her safely to her destination; but brave as she was,
+she had scarcely courage for this extreme step; besides, the driver of
+the hansom might take it into his head to listen to Susan's strong
+objections, and even if he did obey Judy, Susan would go back to
+Philippa Terrace, and tell Hilda everything, and then Hilda would follow
+Judy to Waterloo, and prevent her going home at all.
+
+The strongest feeling in the child's mind was a desire to be safe back
+in the Rectory before Hilda knew anything about her determination.
+
+"Then she can't do anything," thought Judy. "She'll have nothing for it
+but to make herself quite happy with Jasper again."
+
+Suddenly an idea came to her.
+
+"I won't argue with you any more, Susan," she said. "I suppose you
+_think_ you are doing right, and if you do, of course I can't expect you
+to act in any other way. If you knew everything that is in my heart, I
+am quite sure you would help me; but as you don't, I must think of
+something else. You know Mr. Rivers, don't you--the gentleman who dined
+at Philippa Terrace two nights ago?"
+
+"Yes, miss, of course."
+
+"My sister and I took lunch with him yesterday," continued Judy. "He is
+a very nice gentleman; he's a great friend of Mr. Quentyns."
+
+"Oh, yes, miss, I'm aware," replied the maid.
+
+"He lives in chambers," continued Judy. "I don't in the least know what
+chambers means; but he asked me to go and see him some day and have
+lunch with him. He wrote his address on a piece of paper and gave it to
+me, and I have it in my purse. My sister said I might certainly lunch
+with Mr. Rivers. Now, Susan, I intend to go to him to-day. So please
+call a hansom, and I shall drive there at once. You can come or not as
+you please. If you prefer it you can go home; but of course I'd rather
+you came with me."
+
+Susan deliberated. Certainly Miss Judy was in a very queer condition,
+and it would be as much as her place was worth to take her to Waterloo;
+but to drive with her to the chambers of that nice gentleman who was,
+she knew, one of her master's greatest friends, seemed a shifting of
+responsibility which was quite a way out of the dilemma, for not for
+worlds would Susan do anything really to hurt the child's feelings.
+
+"All right, miss," she said after a pause; "even that seems queer
+enough, but Mr. Rivers can explain matters himself to my missis. Here's
+a nice 'ansom with a steady horse. Stop, driver, please, stop! Draw up
+here by the lamp-post. Now, miss, shall I get in first and give you a
+hand?"
+
+"No, Susan; I can get into a hansom without anyone helping me."
+
+"Drive to No. 10 Johnson's Court, Lincoln's Inn Fields," said Judy, in a
+clear voice to the man; and then she and Susan found themselves bowling
+away farther and farther from West Kensington, from Judy's pretty
+bedroom, from Hilda and her love.
+
+In an incredibly short space of time they arrived at their destination;
+the driver pulled up his horse at No. 10 Johnson's Court, with an
+_esprit_ which Judy would have much admired had her thoughts been less
+pre-occupied.
+
+She jumped out with alacrity, declining Susan's assistance, and asked
+the man what his fare was. He named a sum which Susan took into her head
+to consider exorbitant, and which she loudly objected to Judy's paying;
+but the little girl gave it without a moment's hesitation, and the next
+instant was running up the stairs to Rivers' chambers.
+
+What might have happened had that gentleman been out no one can say;
+Judy's heroic impulse might after all have come to nothing, and Jasper
+might still have had to complain of that three, which means trumpery,
+invading his house; but it so happened that Rivers was in, and, busy man
+that he was, comparatively disengaged. When Judy inquired for him he was
+standing in his clerk's room, giving some directions. At the sound of
+her voice he looked up, and with a start and smile of delight came
+forward to welcome her.
+
+"I am very glad to see you," he said; "how kind of you to remember your
+promise."
+
+Then, seeing by her face that Judy's poor little heart was very full, he
+took her into his private room, and desired Susan to wait in the clerk's
+room.
+
+"Now, Jack the Giant Killer, what is it?" said Rivers; "what's the
+matter?"
+
+"I told you," said Judy; "I told you yesterday, that _perhaps_ I was
+going to stop being a mutineer. Well, I have stopped. I thought you'd
+like to know."
+
+"So I do, Judy," said Rivers. "I am proud to be acquainted with a
+little girl who has such immense control over herself. I should like to
+hear how you have contrived to get out of the state of rebellion into
+the state of submission. I know of course that you have been killing a
+giant, but I am interested in the process."
+
+"I'm killing the giant by going home," said Judy, standing very erect by
+Rivers' table, and pushing back her shady hat from her white forehead.
+"I am going home, back to Little Staunton Rectory. I see what you mean,
+that it's better--better for Jasper and Hilda, to be without--without
+_me_. I pretended not to understand you the other night, but I don't
+pretend any longer now; and yesterday evening, when Hilda and I were all
+alone, for Jasper had gone away down to Richmond, I--I made up my mind.
+Hilda doesn't know anything about it."
+
+"Sit down, Judy," said Rivers. "I cannot tell you how I respect you."
+
+[Illustration: "I'D RATHER STAND, PLEASE." P. 222.]
+
+"I'd rather stand, please," said Judy. "Hilda doesn't know," she
+continued, "and she _mustn't_ know until I am safe back at Little
+Staunton Rectory. Susan--you know Susan, she's Hilda's parlor-maid;
+well, Susan came out with me this morning, and I coaxed her very hard to
+take me to Waterloo, but she refused. I don't quite know how to get
+there by myself, so now I want to know if you will take me?"
+
+"Certainly I will," said Rivers. "What is more, I'll go with you to the
+Rectory. I have nothing special to do to-day, and it will be quite a
+pleasure to spend a little time in your company. Do you know anything
+about the trains, and what is the name of the station we have to go to?"
+
+Judy named the one nearest to the Rectory.
+
+"You had better sit down for a moment," pursued Rivers. "I have an 'A B
+C' here, so I can tell you in a moment which is the best train to take.
+Now, what is the matter?"
+
+"Only, Mr. Rivers, Hilda must not know anything--anything about it until
+I am safe home. Can this be managed?"
+
+"I have very little doubt that it can. I shall go out now and speak to
+Susan and send her away. Thank you, Judy, for coming to me; I would do
+anything for you, because you are brave, and I respect and admire all
+brave people."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+GIANT-KILLER.
+
+    And the Prince, seeing that it was of no use to remonstrate,
+    bowed and retired.
+
+                    --THE GOLDEN BRANCH.
+
+
+Susan came home and told her mistress that Judy was spending the day
+with Mr. Rivers.
+
+"What an extraordinary thing for the child to do!" said Hilda.
+
+"She said, ma'am, that Mr. Rivers asked her to lunch, and that you knew
+about it."
+
+"Yes; but why did she not say something to me when she was going out? It
+is so unlike Miss Judy to keep a thing of that sort to herself."
+
+Susan made no reply. She was no longer responsible, and was only too
+anxious not to betray the child.
+
+"Mr. Rivers says he'll take the best care of her, ma'am," she said,
+after a pause.
+
+"Well, go and take off your hat, Susan, and lay the lunch," said Hilda,
+feeling still more puzzled, but not caring to pursue her inquiries any
+further.
+
+She had a sense of aggrievement and a feeling of added loneliness as she
+sat down to her solitary lunch. She missed Judy, and wondered at her
+sudden want of confidence; but soon the deeper trouble which Jasper's
+conduct had caused returned to trouble her, and she forgot her little
+sister in the sadness of her thoughts.
+
+She spent a long and very lonely afternoon indoors, for she had not the
+heart to go out, and besides, she expected Judy home every minute.
+
+She thought it likely that Rivers would take her somewhere after lunch,
+but surely he would bring her back to Philippa Terrace in time for tea.
+Hilda ordered some cakes which she knew were special favorites of Judy's
+to be ready for this meal; and then she sat in her pretty little drawing
+room, and tried to divert her thoughts over the pages of the latest
+novel which had arrived from Mudie's.
+
+It was either not specially interesting, or Hilda found it difficult to
+concentrate her attention. She flung the book on her knee, and sat
+absorbed in what Judy and Babs called a brown study. She was startled
+out of her meditations by Susan bringing in the tea-tray and the little
+kettle and spirit-lamp.
+
+"Did Mr. Rivers say when he would bring Miss Judy home?" she asked of
+the maid.
+
+Susan colored and hesitated slightly in her reply.
+
+"No, ma'am; he said nothing at all about coming home," she answered.
+
+Hilda noticed her hesitation, but did not wish to question her further.
+After the servant left the room, however, she began for the first time
+to feel both impatient and uneasy with regard to her little sister.
+
+"If Judy is not here by six o'clock," she said to herself, "I will go to
+Lincoln's Inn Fields in search of her. How extraordinarily impatient she
+was to go out this morning; and how very odd of her to insist on going
+to Mr. Rivers', and to say nothing at all to me about it; and then how
+queer--how more than queer--her not having yet returned. My sweet little
+Judy, the most thoughtful child who ever breathed--it is unlike her to
+cause me anxiety of this sort."
+
+Hilda did not care for the social little meal which was generally so
+lively when Judy was present. Immediately afterward she ran upstairs to
+put on her bonnet and jacket; and as she was going out, left a message
+with Susan.
+
+"If Miss Judy and Mr. Rivers come," she said, "please say that I have
+gone to Lincoln's Inn Fields, as I felt anxious about the child being
+so long away."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said the servant.
+
+"Whistle for a hansom for me, please, Susan."
+
+Susan did so; and half an hour afterward Hilda was making inquiries at
+Rivers' chambers with regard to his whereabouts. The clerks there could
+give her no definite information. Mr. Rivers had gone out with a little
+lady soon after twelve o'clock, and had told them not to expect him back
+that day.
+
+"I shall find Judy at Philippa Terrace when I go home," thought Mrs.
+Quentyns. "It was thoughtless of her not to tell me how long she would
+be out--it was wonderfully unlike her. Still, of course, she will be at
+home now."
+
+But when Hilda returned no Judy was there to greet her; but her
+husband's face was seen looking somewhat impatiently out at the
+drawing-room window. He came at once to help his wife out of the cab,
+and entered the house with her.
+
+"Where were you?" he asked. "It is nearly time for dinner."
+
+"I won't be a moment getting dressed, Jasper; but--but--I am anxious
+about Judy."
+
+Quentyns had meant to be specially nice and kind to Hilda after his
+evening's pleasure, but he felt it impossible now to keep the glib,
+sarcastic words back.
+
+"I might have known when I saw that fretful look on your face, that Judy
+was the cause. Now, what is her latest transgression?"
+
+"Oh, there is a telegraph-boy," said Hilda eagerly. "What--what--oh,
+_is_ there anything wrong?"
+
+She rushed to the hall-door herself, before Jasper could prevent her.
+Susan, coming into the hall to answer the imperative double knock, was
+sent back to the kitchen regions, in a cross voice, by her master.
+
+"Really, Hilda," began Quentyns, "your impetuosity is most undignified.
+I must say that these kinds of scenes are----Now, what is the matter,
+my love--tears again. A coming home of this sort is not the most
+cheerful sort of thing, you must allow."
+
+"Oh, Jasper, Jasper, I'm not even listening to you," said poor Hilda.
+"What can be the matter? what can be wrong? Here's a telegram from Mr.
+Rivers. He says--see what he says.
+
+"'Little Staunton Rectory. Have brought Judy home. Will call and see you
+soon after ten this evening. Rivers.'"
+
+"Rivers!" repeated Jasper.
+
+His voice grew thoughtful; he did not like Rivers, of all men, to be
+mixed up in his domestic affairs. Rivers, at least, must keep him on a
+pedestal, and know nothing of his weaknesses--of that infirmity of
+temper which he struggled against, and yet, in Judy's presence, could
+not conquer. He forgot all about Judy herself in his wonder as to how
+Rivers had got mixed up in the matter.
+
+Hilda had seated herself on the sofa, and still holding the open
+telegram in her hand, was trying furtively to wipe away her fast-falling
+tears.
+
+"I wish you'd stop crying, Hilda," said her husband. "There's nothing to
+alarm you in this telegram--nothing whatever. If Judy is with a man like
+Tom Rivers, she's as safe as child can be."
+
+"But she has gone home, Jasper; she has gone home to the Rectory,
+without even telling me."
+
+"Well, my dear, it's impossible for me to explain away the vagaries of
+that most eccentric child. I presume, however, that Rivers has a key to
+the mystery, and as he says he will call here after ten o'clock, we
+shall know all about it then. No amount of discussion can explain it in
+advance. So, Hilda, perhaps you will go upstairs and get ready for
+dinner. I'm frightfully hungry."
+
+Hilda rose wearily and left the room at once.
+
+"I think I can guess something--just something of what it means," she
+said to herself. "My little Judy--my brave little Judy!"
+
+Judy's letter was lying hidden all this time under the large pin-cushion
+on Hilda's dressing table, but as it was not seen, its contents, which
+would have explained a good deal, were of course not known.
+
+The dinner which followed this unhappy beginning of the evening was as
+dismal and constrained as if poor "trumpery" were still present.
+
+Quentyns, like most men who work hard all day, was particular about this
+meal, and to-night of all nights cook had not sent up the soup to his
+satisfaction, nor the _entree_ seasoned to his taste. It was all one to
+Hilda just now what she ate, but Quentyns pushed his plate impatiently
+away, and kept on referring to the excellent dinner he had had the night
+before at the Star and Garter. He spoke of his evening as delightful,
+and of the house of the new friend where he had slept as altogether
+irreproachable.
+
+Hilda felt that he was talking at her all the time, but she had not the
+heart to reply to him. The dismal little meal came to a mournful end,
+and the two went into the drawing room to wait for Rivers' arrival.
+
+Hilda took up a handkerchief she was embroidering for Judy, and took
+special pleasure in putting in new and exquisite stitches as her
+thoughts centered themselves in dull wonder and pain round the child.
+Quentyns became absorbed in the contents of a novel. He read for half an
+hour--he was by no means in a good humor, and now and then his eyes were
+raised to look over the top of the book at his wife. There was a patient
+sort of suffering about her which irritated him a good bit, as he could
+see no possible reason to account for it. He asked her one or two
+questions, which she answered in an abstracted manner.
+
+No, he certainly had not bargained for this sort of thing when he
+married. Hilda was not only pretty, but she could be, when she liked,
+sufficiently intellectual to satisfy his requirements. He was fastidious
+and had peculiar views with regard to women. He hated the so-called
+clever women, but at the same time he despised the stupid ones. To
+please him a woman must have tact--she must quickly understand his many
+moods. She must sympathize when he demanded sympathy, and when he showed
+by his manner that he wished to be left alone, she must respect his
+desires. Hitherto, Hilda had abundantly fulfilled his expectations. If
+Judy had not been in the house, all that he had ever dreamed of in his
+married life would have come to pass. But to-night, although Judy was
+not there to intermeddle, Quentyns felt that, for all the good his wife
+was doing him, he might as well be a bachelor at his club.
+
+"My dear," he said with some impatience, and forgetting himself not a
+little, "do you know that you have made precisely the same remark now
+five times? I did not quarrel with its brilliancy the first time I heard
+it, but on the fifth occasion I will own that it gave me a certain sense
+of _ennui_. As I see that your thoughts are miles away, I'll just run
+round to the club for a bit and find out if there is anything going on."
+
+Hilda raised her eyes in some surprise. A certain expression in them
+seemed to expostulate with Jasper, but her lips said nothing; and just
+at that moment a hansom was heard to bowl up rapidly and stop with a
+quick jerk at the door. A moment later Rivers entered the drawing room.
+He came up at once to Hilda with the air of a man who has a message to
+deliver.
+
+"Judy hopes you got her note long ere this, Mrs. Quentyns."
+
+"Her note--no; I have not received any," replied Hilda.
+
+"She wrote to you this morning, and put the note under the pin-cushion
+in your room."
+
+"How romantic and Judy-like!" said Quentyns suddenly. "Quite the correct
+thing, according to the old-fashioned novels. When the heroine elopes
+she always leaves a note under the pin-cushion."
+
+"How do you do, Jasper? I did not notice you until this moment," said
+Rivers. He gave the other man a sharp glance, which suddenly made him
+feel queer and small. "The only thing old-fashioned that I notice about
+Judy," he said, "is her noble unselfishness. She has gone home
+because--because--I think you can both guess why; an explanation would
+only be disagreeable. She begged me to tell you, Mrs. Quentyns, that she
+meant to be really _perfectly_ happy at home, and she hoped you and
+Jasper would follow her example here. Poor little Giant Killer! she slew
+an enormous giant to-day, and there are few people I respect as I do
+that dear little soul. I saw her safely to the Rectory, as, when she
+came to me, I thought it best to humor what was more a noble inspiration
+than a child's whim. I will say good-night now."
+
+Hilda scarcely said a word while Rivers was speaking. When he left the
+room, however, she stood still for an instant, listening intently.
+Jasper had gone out to see his friend into his hansom. Would he come
+back? He did for a moment.
+
+"Don't sit up for me, Hilda," he said; and there was a tone in his voice
+which caused her heart to sink down low, very low indeed.
+
+She heard the door slam behind him, and then she knew that she was
+alone. The servants had gone to bed--to all intents and purposes she was
+absolutely alone in the silent house.
+
+So Judy's sacrifice was in vain. Judy had thought, by absolutely
+sacrificing herself, that she could bring this husband and wife
+together. It was not to be.
+
+Hilda fell on her knees and buried her burning face in the sofa
+cushions.
+
+"Oh, Judy, little Judy!" she sobbed. "Oh, Judy, what shall I do? My pain
+is greater than I can bear."
+
+She knelt in this position for a long time. Her little sister's face was
+distinctly seen in her mental vision; Judy seemed surrounded by a sort
+of halo--but what of Jasper? Had all the love which united these two
+hearts vanished like a dream? Was he never coming back to her? Would he
+always misunderstand her? Oh, if she thought that, she would not stay
+with him--she would go back to the Rectory and to Judy, and forget her
+golden dream and turn back again to the old life. For three months she
+would have been a wife. She would forget that time. She would own to
+Jasper that she had made a mistake. She would be Hilda Merton once more.
+Alas! alas! that could not be. Vows and ceremonies tied her. She had
+stood beside the altar and given herself away. There was no going back
+on that step. Jasper was not the Jasper of her dreams. He must have a
+small mind not to understand Judy, and she had married him because she
+thought his mind so big and his heart so great. After all, Judy was far
+greater than Jasper.
+
+"My little Judy," she murmured again, and then she sank down a pitiable,
+weak, inconsolable figure on the hearth-rug close to the expiring fire.
+She thought over the scenes of the last night and longed to have them
+back again.
+
+"If Judy's arms were round me, I should not feel so lonely," she
+murmured. "Oh, Jasper, how can you turn from me? How can you fail to
+understand that my heart at least is big enough to love both Judy and
+you?"
+
+The lamp burnt dimly and the fire went completely out. Hilda presently
+fell asleep in the darkness, and now a moonbeam shining into the drawing
+room and falling across her tired face made it look white and unearthly,
+almost like the face of a dead girl. It was in this attitude that
+Quentyns found her when he came back somewhere between one and two
+o'clock.
+
+His conscience was reproaching him, for Rivers, an old friend, had not
+failed to give him a little spice of his mind; but he was just in that
+irritable condition where repentance is almost impossible, and when
+self-abasement only leads a man into further wrong-doing.
+
+When he saw Hilda's tired face, he said to himself with a sort of laugh:
+
+"If I don't encourage this sort of thing, I shall doubtless be more and
+more of a tyrant in the eyes of my good wife and that precious
+fastidious child and Rivers. Well, well, I cannot see the beauty of
+voluntary martyrdom. If Hilda weren't quite such a goose, she would have
+gone to bed two hours ago, instead of falling asleep here to the utter
+disregard of her health and personal appearance."
+
+So Quentyns, looking cross and uninterested, shook his wife not too
+gently; spoke in a commonplace tone, out of which he purposely excluded
+every scrap of emotion, and asked her how much longer she wanted to sit
+up.
+
+Hilda stumbled to her feet without a word. She went upstairs and to bed,
+but although her husband quickly slept, she lay awake until the morning.
+
+She came down to breakfast, looking tired and fagged. There were black
+lines under her eyes, and when Quentyns asked her what was the matter,
+she not only owned to a headache, but burst into tears.
+
+When a man is thoroughly cross, nothing irritates him more than tears on
+the part of his wife, and Quentyns now so far forgot himself as to rise
+hastily from the breakfast table and leave the room, slamming the door
+behind him. He put in his head a moment later to nod to his wife and say
+good-by.
+
+"If I'm late, don't wait dinner for me," he said, and then he left the
+house. Hilda had plenty of time to wipe her tears away in the deserted
+breakfast room. The pain at her heart was almost greater than she could
+bear. Her gentle nature was stirred by what she considered gross
+injustice on the part of her husband.
+
+"He does not care for me any more," she muttered. "I thought him great
+and brave and good. I know he is clever; I suppose he is great, and
+perhaps even good; but I am too small and too little for him--I fail to
+understand him, and he does not love me any more. Oh, if only little
+Judy had stayed with me I should not feel as broken-hearted as I do at
+present. if only little Judy had stayed with me, I should loneliness of
+my life?"
+
+At this moment Hilda's dismal meditations were interrupted by the sound
+of carriage wheels, which not only came rattling down the little street,
+but stopped at the hall door. She started up in a fright, pushed back
+her disordered hair from her flushed face, and the next moment found
+herself in the voluminous embrace of Jasper's aunt, Lady Malvern.
+
+"My dear," exclaimed that good lady, "I must apologize for not looking
+you up sooner, but I have been particularly busy; for Cynthia, my eldest
+girl, has just got engaged and we are to have a wedding in the autumn
+and all kinds of fuss; but I have not forgotten you, Hilda, and I have
+just come to carry you off for the day. It is a lovely day, and we are
+all going to drive to Richmond to picnic in the park. Run upstairs, my
+love, and put on your hat and gloves. I mean to carry you off
+immediately."
+
+"But Jasper has just gone to town--he will be so sorry to have missed
+you," said Hilda.
+
+"Well, I suppose I can endure life even though I have missed Jasper,"
+said Lady Malvern with a laugh. "In any case I want you, and so does
+Cynthia. Cynthia has taken a great fancy to you, Hilda; so run away and
+get ready. I will send a wire to your husband to come down and join us
+later on. There now, will that content you, you poor, devoted little
+soul?"
+
+Hilda smiled and a faint color came into her cheeks.
+
+"Run up to your room, my dear," said good-natured Lady Malvern. "Be as
+quick as ever you can getting into the prettiest costume you have, for
+we are to be quite a gay party, I can tell you. Now run off, dear, run
+off, and pray don't keep me waiting a moment longer than you can help."
+
+Lady Malvern was the sort of person who never could bear anyone to say
+"no" to her, and Hilda at first unwillingly, but presently with a sort
+of elation and even defiance which was altogether foreign to her gentle
+nature, prepared to make herself smart for her unexpected gayety. She
+went upstairs, pulled out one of her prettiest trousseau dresses, and,
+with hands that trembled, began to array herself in it.
+
+Meanwhile Lady Malvern sat perfectly still in the tiny little dining
+room, with a somewhat troubled look on her good-tempered face.
+
+"Now, what has Jasper been doing?" she said to herself. "That sweet
+child doesn't look happy. Marks of tears round her eyes, flushed
+cheeks--very low spirits. Dear, dear! this will never do. Not more than
+three months from the wedding-day."
+
+Lady Malvern had seen very little of her nephew since his marriage. She
+knew nothing, therefore, about Judy; but she was just that fussy,
+good-natured, hearty sort of body who could not bear anyone with whom
+she came in contact to be miserable.
+
+"I must set this right somehow or other," she said to herself. "Jasper
+doesn't understand Hilda, and Hilda is wretched, and thinks, poor dear
+little goose, that the sun will never shine again, and that life is
+practically over for her. She does not know, how could she, poor
+darling, how many rubs married people have to live through, and how
+jolly and comfortable they are notwithstanding them. Well, well, I am
+glad I called. I must set things right between this pair, whatever
+happens."
+
+Lady Malvern little guessed, however, that she personally was to have
+very little to do with smoothing the rumpled rose-leaves in Hilda's and
+Jasper's lives.
+
+When Mrs. Quentyns returned to the little dining room the flush on her
+cheeks and the softened look in her sweet eyes but added to her beauty,
+and when she found herself bowling away through the pleasant spring air
+in her kind friend's company, in spite of herself, her spirits could not
+help rising.
+
+Lady Malvern had a house in Hans Place, and there Cynthia and two
+younger girls were waiting for them.
+
+The day was a perfect one, very warm and summery for the time of year,
+and the young people all agreed that it was by no means too early in the
+season to enjoy themselves even in this _al fresco_ fashion.
+
+They were to end with tea at the "Star and Garter," and they all started
+off now for this day's pleasure in the highest spirits.
+
+Hilda was quite young enough to enjoy such a proceeding immensely. As
+space divided her from her little home in Philippa Terrace her spirits
+rose, and now, if Judy had only been by her side, she would have felt
+perfectly happy.
+
+By the time they reached Richmond Park all trace of tears and sorrow had
+left her charming face, and she was one of the brightest and gayest of
+the company.
+
+No one could make herself more useful than Hilda, and when her husband
+appeared on the scene, he was a good deal astonished to see her flying
+lightly about, ordering and directing the arrangements of the picnic
+dinner. Her gay laughter floated to his ears on the summer breeze, her
+cheeks were bright, her eyes shining. In short, she looked like that
+charming Hilda who had won his heart in the old Rectory garden not a
+year ago.
+
+Hilda was busily helping to concoct a salmon mayonnaise, when, raising
+her eyes, she met her husband's gaze. He smiled back at her a look of
+approval and love, and her heart rose considerably.
+
+There were other people present besides Jasper who thought Mrs. Quentyns
+a very beautiful young woman. There were others waiting to show her the
+most polite and gracious attentions, and these facts considerably
+enhanced her value in her husband's eyes. In short, he began to fall in
+love with his wife over again, and Judy for the time being was forgotten
+by this pair.
+
+The day passed all too quickly, and at last the moment arrived when the
+little party must turn their steps homeward.
+
+"You must both come home and have supper with us," said Lady Malvern to
+her nephew and his wife. "Oh, yes, I shall take no denial; and now,
+Jasper, will you drive Cynthia and her sister back to town? I mean Hilda
+to accompany me."
+
+Jasper was all smiles and good-humor. He was willing to accede to any
+arrangement which could add to the pleasures of the day, and Hilda, in
+whose heart a faint hope had lingered that she and her husband might
+have gone home together, followed Lady Malvern to her carriage with a
+little sigh. The whole party was soon driving home. Lady Malvern and
+Hilda had a small victoria to themselves. As soon as ever they left the
+rest of the party, the older woman turned and gave a full glance at the
+girl by her side.
+
+"Hilda," she said suddenly, "you look better than you did this morning."
+
+"Oh, I feel better," she replied. "You have done me lots of good," she
+continued, raising her eyes with an affectionate light in them to Lady
+Malvern's kind face.
+
+"I am delighted to have helped you, my love," replied the elder lady;
+"and now, Hilda, I want to say something. You have been married very
+little over three months. It is a very common illusion with girls to
+imagine that married life is a time of perpetual bliss."
+
+Hilda opened her lips to say something, but Lady Malvern interrupted.
+
+"My dear," she said, "you must hear me out. Married life is not a bed of
+roses, and the first year which a young couple spend together is
+generally the hardest of all."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Quentyns. "Why the first year?"
+
+"Because, my dear, the glamour is gradually being removed. The girl is
+finding that the hero whom she married is a right good fellow, but still
+that he is human; that he has his faults and his aggravations; that he
+needs to be humored and consulted and petted, and to have his
+smallnesses--yes, my dear, mark the word, his smallnesses--attended to.
+The husband is making similar discoveries with regard to the lovely
+angel whom he took to his arms. She, too, is mortal--affectionate, of
+course, and sweet and womanly, and ten thousand times better than a real
+angel would be to him, but still with her faults, her tempers, and her
+fads. The young couple discover these things in each other during the
+first two or three months of married life. All their future happiness
+depends on how they both act, under the influence of these discoveries.
+They have got to learn that, though they are made one by the priest,
+they are both of them distinct individualities. If they are to be happy
+together, they must both give and take. I know a married couple who are
+now the happiest, prosiest, most attached old pair in the world, who
+went through no end of storms during their first eventful year. But they
+learned a lesson and profited by it. The wife does not now think her
+husband the greatest hero that ever set foot on this earth, and the
+husband does not call his wife an angel; but I think, if their love were
+analyzed, it would be found greater, deeper, and more tender than that
+early glamour which was love, but was not equal to the love tried by
+fire which comes later in life. Now, my dear, you will forgive my little
+lecture. If you had need of it, ponder my words; if not, forgive an old
+woman for worrying you. Hilda, what a sweet, pretty little house you
+have! I always knew that my nephew Jasper had good taste. I am so truly
+glad that you have the same."
+
+While Lady Malvern was speaking, Hilda pulled down her veil, and
+struggled hard to keep the tears from her brown eyes. She could not
+quite manage this, however, and Lady Malvern, giving her a half-glance,
+saw that her eyelashes were wet.
+
+She did not add any more in words, but she made up her mind to help the
+young girl by every means in her power.
+
+They drove on rapidly. The horses were fresh, and they were getting over
+the ground with great rapidity, when a quickly approaching train
+startled one of the horses. At the same time a man on a bicycle darted
+round the corner, and before he could help himself, knocked against the
+carriage. The double shock was enough for the affrighted horses. They
+plunged, reared, and became unmanageable, and the next moment the little
+victoria was overturned, and Lady Malvern and Mrs. Quentyns were flung
+with some violence on the pavement. Lady Malvern was not severely hurt,
+and she sprang almost immediately to her feet, but the fright and fall
+had stunned Hilda, who lay white and still on the ground without any
+attempt at movement. The usual crowd of course collected, and it was on
+this scene that Quentyns, in high good-humor, and forgetting for the
+time being that there was a crumpled rose-leaf in the world, suddenly
+came with some more of the picnic party. As a matter of course, they all
+drew up. Quentyns was driving a high dog-cart. He sprang to the ground
+and ran into the midst of the crowd. Then for the first time he realized
+what had happened. His young wife, looking as if she were dead, was
+lying in Lady Malvern's arms. Lady Malvern was seated on a doorstep.
+Some men were hastily coming forward with a shutter.
+
+"My God!" exclaimed Quentyns; "is she dead?"
+
+"No, my dear boy, no--only stunned," said Lady Malvern. "Here, take her
+into your own arms, Jasper. You are stronger than I. Let her see your
+face first when she opens her eyes. No medicine will be so reviving as
+that."
+
+Here a woman came up and spoke to Lady Malvern.
+
+"I shall be only too pleased to have the young lady brought into my
+house, madam," she said. "A very good doctor lives just round the
+corner, and he can be summoned at once."
+
+"Yes, yes; send for him immediately," said Quentyns.
+
+He strode into the house with his light burden. Hilda was laid upon a
+sofa, and in a few moments the doctor arrived. He felt her all over and
+said that no bones were broken, and that no severe injury of any kind
+had occurred, but both fall and shock had been very severe. He counseled
+her being left undisturbed in her present condition until the morning.
+
+"Then I will go home," said Lady Malvern. "You will look after her
+yourself, Jasper?"
+
+"Need you ask?" he replied. He followed his aunt to the door as he
+spoke.
+
+"Hilda had a narrow escape of her life," said Lady Malvern, looking full
+at her nephew as she spoke. "How sudden and awful it all was! There were
+we chatting together, and thinking no more of danger than if such a
+thing did not exist, when all in an instant came that awful bolt from
+the blue. I shall never forget the swinging of the carriage and the way
+the horses looked when they plunged and kicked about, or the white
+piteous face of your sweet little Hilda, who would not scream nor show
+any outward sign of terror. I thought it was all over with both of us--I
+did really, Jasper. I cannot tell you how thankful we ought to be that
+things are no worse."
+
+"You are sure then that Hilda is not in danger?" queried the young man
+in a tremulous voice.
+
+"No, no; what did you hear the doctor say, you silly boy? Perhaps the
+best thing that could have happened to Hilda was this accident, dreadful
+as it was for the moment. Perhaps--well, Jasper, I think you must know
+what I mean."
+
+"Has Hilda been talking about me?" asked Jasper, a wave of red mounting
+to his brow.
+
+"Talking about you?" replied his aunt, now thoroughly angry; "only in
+the way that Hilda can talk of those whom she loves best on earth.
+Jasper, you are the luckiest man in the world, and if you don't contrive
+to make that sweet child the happiest woman, I for one will have nothing
+to do with you again."
+
+"No fear, no fear, if she loves me in that way," murmured Jasper.
+
+He turned abruptly on his heel and went back to the room where his wife
+lay. He was a very proud, reserved man, and even in moments of the
+deepest agitation would scarcely reveal his real sentiments. But that
+moment, when he had looked at his wife's white face and had thought that
+she was dead, had shaken his whole nature to its very depths. He made a
+discovery then that nothing in all the world was of any real value to
+him compared with Hilda's love.
+
+"I have acted like a brute to her," he murmured. "Rivers was right.
+She's too good for me--she's fifty times too good for me. My God, how
+white she looks as she lies there! Suppose the doctor is wrong. Why
+doesn't she speak or move? Why do they make so little of this continued
+unconsciousness? I think I'll go for some further advice. Oh, my
+darling, my darling, if you are dead, if your sweet life has been taken,
+I shall never forgive myself--never!"
+
+But just then there was a faint stir of the heavily fringed lids which
+lay against Hilda's white cheeks. The next moment the sweet brown eyes
+were opened wide, and Hilda looked into her husband's face.
+
+"What has happened?" she asked drowsily. "I don't remember anything.
+Where are we?"
+
+"Together, Hilda," he replied; "together. Does anything else really
+matter?"
+
+"Oh, no, no!" she said, with a catch in her voice.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Next day Mrs. Quentyns was so far convalescent as to be able to return
+to the little house in Philippa Terrace. Jasper, of course, accompanied
+her. They had found a good deal to say to each other, between the moment
+when she had opened her eyes the night before and now. Both had some
+things to confess--both had some words of forgiveness to crave from the
+other. So complete now had been the interchange of soul and of love
+between this pair that it seemed impossible that anything could ever
+separate such warm hearts again.
+
+"And it has been all Judy's doing," said Jasper as they sat that
+evening in the little drawing room.
+
+"What do you mean?" asked his wife.
+
+"Why," he answered, "if Judy had not brought matters to a crisis by
+going away, we might have drifted further and further apart. But now we
+must have her back again, Hilda. She has fulfilled her mission, dear
+little soul, and now she must have her reward."
+
+"No," said Hilda, in a firm voice. "Judy shall have her reward, but not
+by coming back. She did right to go. I could never, never have sent her
+away, but she did right to go."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me, Hilda, that you could be perfectly happy to
+live without her?"
+
+"With you," she said, laying her hand on his arm, and looking into his
+face with her sweet eyes shining through tears.
+
+He put his arms round her and kissed her many times.
+
+"Jasper," said Hilda after a few minutes, "I think the first wrong step
+that I took--the first beginning of that unhappy time--was when I lost
+my temper down at Little Staunton and gave up my engagement ring."
+
+"No wonder you lost your temper when I was such a brute about
+everything," said Quentyns. "It was my fault."
+
+"No, no; it was mine."
+
+"Have you missed the ring, Hilda?"
+
+"Missed it?" she held up her slender finger. "My heart has been empty
+without it," she said.
+
+"Then let me put it on again for you."
+
+"Can you? Is--isn't it sold?"
+
+"Of course not. Do you think that I could sell that ring?"
+
+"But--but the furniture in Judy's room?"
+
+"When I saw that you must have Judy with you, Hilda, I went into debt
+for the furniture. Oh, never mind all that now, my darling--the debt is
+paid in full a week ago, and I have the receipt in my pocket. Now I am
+going upstairs to fetch the ring."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+GOOD OMENS.
+
+    And so the shadows fall apart,
+      And so the west winds play;
+    And all the windows of my heart
+      I open to the day.
+
+                    --WHITTIER.
+
+
+Mildred Anstruther was paying a visit at the Rectory on the day that
+Rivers and Judy walked in. Rivers was a very striking-looking man, and
+all the Rectory people were so devoured with curiosity about him, and so
+interested in all he said and did--in his reasons for coming down to
+Little Staunton, and in his remarks about the Quentyns--that Judy's own
+return to the family circle passed into utter insignificance. She was
+there--they had none of them expected her, and as she chose to come
+back, she was welcome of course.
+
+It was a lovely day, and the whole party were out in the garden, when
+Rivers and his little charge entered their midst.
+
+Judy wore her green cloak and pretty black shady hat. There was a new
+sort of picturesqueness about her, which Aunt Marjorie noticed in an
+abstracted way; she put it down to "the polish which even a short
+residence in the metropolis always gives;" she had not the faintest idea
+that it was due to the dignity which a noble action can inspire.
+
+Judy greeted everyone quite in her old manner, and was rather glad that
+she was not fussed over, but taken quite as a matter-of-course.
+
+Aunt Marjorie was too anxious about the cream for Rivers' tea to give
+serious thoughts to anyone else just then. But when the young man had
+departed to catch the return train to London, then a few questions were
+asked of Judy.
+
+"I thought you were going to live with Hilda," said Mildred, looking
+curiously at the child.
+
+Mildred was standing a little apart from the others, and Judy, whose
+face was pale, for the suffering of her self-sacrifice was still causing
+her heart to ache horribly, looked full at her, and said in a low voice:
+
+"That turned out to be a mistake, so I've come home."
+
+"You brave little darling!" said Mildred, understanding everything like
+a flash; she stooped and kissed Judy on her forehead.
+
+Babs came rushing into the midst of the group.
+
+"Judy, Judy, I want you," she cried.
+
+"What is it?" asked Judy.
+
+"There's a butterfly coming out of a chrysalis in the butterfly-case;
+come quick--he's moving his tail backward and forward--he'll soon be
+out; come quick and see him."
+
+The dull look left Judy's eyes; they sparkled with a sudden, swift,
+childish joy.
+
+She took Babs' hand, and they rushed away, right round to the back of
+the house where the butterfly-case stood.
+
+"Let's take him out, poor darling," she said; "let's put him on a leaf,
+and watch him as he gets out of his prison."
+
+Her eyes grew brighter and brighter; she bent low to watch the
+resurrection which was going on.
+
+After all the chrysalis and the butterfly were emblems. They were good
+omens to Judy that love and hope were not dead.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Young Mutineer, by Mrs. L. T. Meade
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