r
separated from Anne. She needs young company."

The little grandmother consented reluctantly. She was very proud, and
although for years the Judge had tried to do something substantial to
help his old friend in her poverty, he had so far been unsuccessful in
breaking down the barrier of independence which she had set up.

One promise he had wrung from her, however, that when Anne was old
enough, he was to send her away to school, where she would be fitted to
take her place worthily in a long line of cultured people. This he had
demanded and obtained by virtue of his friendship for her father and
grandfather, and for the "sake of Auld Lang Syne."

"But Anne's things will do very well," said Mrs. Batcheller, when the
Judge tried tactfully to suggest that he be allowed to send Anne's
order with Judy's.

"No, they won't," the Judge had insisted, bluntly, "Judy's old home at
The Breakers is somewhat isolated, but there will be trips that the
girls will take together, and friends will call, and I can't have
little Anne unhappy because she hasn't a pretty gown to wear."

"Oh, well," sighed Mrs. Batcheller, "if you look at it that way. Now
in my day, if a girl had a sweet temper and nice manners, that was all
that was necessary."

"Hum--" mused the Judge. "But I remember somebody in a little white
gown with green sprigs, and a hat with pink roses under the brim."

"Judith and I had them just alike," smiled the blushing little
grandmother.

"And you looked like two sweet old-fashioned roses," said the old man,
"and you knew it, too. The world hasn't changed so very much, or girl
nature."

"Perhaps not," confessed the little grandmother, her eyes still bright
with the memories of youthful vanities; "perhaps not, and you may have
your way, Judge, only you mustn't spoil my little girl."

"She can't be spoiled," said the Judge promptly, and went away
triumphant.

And so it came about that in the trunk on which Anne sat were five
frocks--two white linen ones like Judy's; a soft gray for cool days, an
organdie all strewn with little pink roses, and an enchanting pale blue
mull for parties.

No wonder that Anne sat on that trunk!

It was a treasure casket of her dreams--and with the knowledge of what
it contained, she did not envy Cinderella her godmother, nor Aladdin
his lamp!

"Amelia and Nannie are coming to say 'good-bye,'" said Anne, as two
figures appeared far up the road, "they'd better hurry."

"Tom