ctor's existence, and hurried off along the street, with
head bent and eyes which saw nothing they rested on.

Reaching her home, where all the flowers smiled a bright welcome,
unnoticed for once, her first action was to take out of a drawer a
little blue book, full of figures, which she studied with ardour. Then
she took a clean sheet of paper, and wrote certain words at the top of
it; then she got out her best bonnet.

Something very serious was on hand when Miss Peace put on her best
bonnet. She had only had it four years, and regarded it still as a
sacred object, to be taken out on Sundays and reverently looked at,
then put back in its box, and thought about while she tied the strings
of the ten-year-old velvet structure, which was quite as good as new.
Two weddings had seen the best bonnet in its grandeur, and three
funerals; but no bells, either solemn or joyous, summoned her to-day,
as she gravely placed the precious bonnet on her head, and surveyed
her image with awestruck approval in the small mirror over the
mantelpiece.

"It's _dreadful_ handsome!" said Miss Peace, softly. "It's too
handsome for me, a great sight, but I want to look my best now, if
ever I did."

It was at Judge Ransom's door that she rang first; a timid, apologetic
ring, as if she knew in advance how busy the judge would be, and how
wrong it was of her to intrude on his precious time. But the judge
himself opened the door, and was not at all busy, but delighted to
have a chance to chat with his old friend, whom he had not seen for a
month of Sundays. He made her come in, and put her in the biggest
armchair (which swallowed her up so that hardly more than the bonnet
was visible), and drew a footstool before her little feet, which
dangled helplessly above it; then he took his seat opposite, in
another big chair, and said it was a fine day, and then waited, seeing
that she had something of importance to say.

Miss Peace's breath came short and quick, and she fingered her
reticule nervously. She had not thought it would be quite so dreadful
as this. "Judge," she said--and paused, frightened at the sound of her
voice, which seemed to echo in a ghostly manner through the big room.

"Well, Miss Peace!" said the judge, kindly. "Well, Anne, what is it?
How can I serve you? Speak up, like a good girl. Make believe we are
back in the little red schoolhouse again, and you are prompting me in
my arithmetic lesson."

Anne Peace laughed and coloure