ence and Joyce; but what
about Genevieve Singleton? Judith knew that Genevieve was disappointed
about an expected invitation for Easter week, for she had been loud in
her lamentations. "I'd better ask her," thought Judith; "she doesn't
know that I played detective, and she's sure to feel badly when she sees
the others going; her pride'll be hurt."

So Genevieve was invited, and it was a merry little party that gathered
in the front hall. They weren't going very far, to be sure, but they
were going away anyhow, if it was only for the afternoon. Aunt Nell took
them for a run through the park and out into the country before they
went home for tea.

They had a jolly tea-party; Aunt Nell poured tea for them, supplied them
with plenty of toast and muffins, sandwiches and cake, and then very
soon vanished.

"I knew they would talk more freely if I were not there," she said
afterwards to Judith, "and unless things have changed very much since I
was at York, I can give a pretty good guess as to what you talked about.
Confess now," as Judith blushed a little under Aunt Nell's laughing
quizzical eyes, "didn't you discuss every teacher on the staff from the
cut of her Sunday coat to the cut of her Monday temper? Of course you
did."

And of course they had. Genevieve convulsed them by a dramatic
representation of a stormy scene between herself and Madame Philippe;
then Miss Evans's new evening frock, Miss Marlowe's incomprehensible
taste in preferring Jane Austen to Dickens, Miss Langton's terrifying
sarcasm, Miss Ashwell's sweet new sweater coat, all were discussed with
an enormous amount of interest and delight.

Next day life was "flat, stale, and unprofitable." Judith didn't realize
how tired she was; mentally and emotionally she had been keyed up to a
very high pitch during the last two or three months and now had come the
inevitable reaction. No wonder she was dull and miserable. But next
morning the sun was shining brightly, there was a fresh, clean-washed
feeling in the air, and as Judith stood at the open casement window in
the dining-room waiting for the others to come down to breakfast, she
saw to her joy that the maple trees in the garden were beginning to put
out their tiny red flowers. Was spring really coming after all this
dismal weather? Judith's spirits went up with a bound. Oh, if summer
were only here and one could stay out-of-doors!

The others came in to breakfast; Uncle Tom buried himself in his
newspa