my is coming, too," said Judy. "I wish I could take them all with
me."
"Why not invite them all down to The Breakers," suggested the Judge,
who was eager to do anything for this fragile, big-eyed granddaughter,
who was creeping into his heart by gentle ways and loving
consideration, so that he sometimes wondered if the old, tempestuous
Judy were gone for ever.
"Not now," said Judy, thoughtfully. "I just want you and Anne for a
while, but I should love to have them some time--and Launcelot, too."
"Can you?" she asked Launcelot, as he came out of the baggage room with
their checks in his hand, followed by Perkins with the bags.
"Can I what?" he asked, standing before her with his hat in his hand, a
shabby figure in shabby corduroy, but a gentleman from the crown of his
well-brushed head to the soles of his shining boots.
"Will you come down to The Breakers sometime?--I am going to ask Amelia
and Nannie and Tommy, and I want you, too--"
"Will I come? Well, I should say I would--" but suddenly his smile
faded. "I am awfully afraid I can't, though. There is so much to do
around our place, and father isn't well."
Now in spite of the affectionate dutifulness with which of late Judy
treated her grandfather, she still showed her thorny side to Launcelot.
"Oh, well, of course, if you don't want to come"--she snapped, tartly,
and went forward to meet the young people, who were hurrying up, Amelia
puffing and out of breath, Nannie with her red curls flying, and Tommy
laden with a parting gift of apples, an added burden for the martyred
Perkins.
Far down the road the train whistled. Anne was surrounded by a little
circle of sorrowing friends. Even Launcelot was in the group, and Judy
and the Judge stood alone.
"How they love her," said Judy, with a little ache of envy in her heart.
"How she loves them," said the wise old Judge. "That is the secret,
Judy."
Amelia had brought Anne a box of fudge, Nannie a handkerchief made by
her own stubby and patient fingers, and Launcelot made her happy with a
book of fairy-tales, worn as to cover, but with rich things within--a
book of his that she had long coveted.
"By-by, little Anne," he said, with a brotherly pat on her shoulder.
Then he shook hands with the Judge. "I hope you will have a fine time,
sir," he said. Then as he and Judy stood together for a moment, he
handed her something wrapped carefully in tissue-paper.
"These are for you," he said, a l
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