r, Judy
breathed an ecstatic sigh. "Aren't they beautiful?" she murmured.

"Yes, Miss, that they are," and Perkins surveyed them as an artist lets
his glance linger on a finished masterpiece. He raised the platter to
carry it to the dining-room, but as he turned towards the door he
stopped and set it down quickly.

"What's the matter, sir," he asked sharply, "has anything gone wrong?"

The Judge stood on the threshold, his face white with excitement. In
his hands was a letter, and his voice shook as he spoke.

"It's nothing bad, Perkins," he said, and Judy, as she faced him, saw
that his eyes were bright with some new hope. "It's nothing bad. But
I've had a letter--a strange, strange letter, Perkins--and I must go on
a journey to-night--a journey to the north--to Newfoundland, Perkins."

CHAPTER XVII

MOODS AND MODELS

Anne and Judy were almost overcome by the mystery of the Judge's
departure. Not a word could they get out of the reticent Perkins,
however, as to the reasons for the sudden flitting, and the Judge had
simply said when pressed with questions: "Important business, my dear,
which may result rather pleasantly for you. Mrs. Adams will take care
of you and Anne while I am gone, which I hope won't be long."

The day that he left it rained, and the day after, and the day after
that, and on the fourth day, when the sea was gray and the sky was gray
and the world seemed blotted out by the blinding torrents, Judy, who
had been pacing through the house like a caged wild thing, came into
the library, and found Anne curled up in the window-seat with a book.

"I came down here with all sorts of good resolutions," she said,
fiercely, as she stood by the window, looking out, "but if this rain
doesn't stop, I shall do something desperate. I hate to be shut in."

Anne did not look up. She was reading a book breathlessly, and not
until Judy had jerked it out of her hand and had flung it across the
room did she come to herself with a little cry.

"I shall do something desperate," reiterated Judy, stormily. "Do you
hear, Anne?"

Anne smiled up at her--a preoccupied smile.

"Oh, Judy," she said, still seeing the visions conjured up by her book.
"Oh, Judy, you ought to read this--"

"You know I don't like to read, Anne." Judy's tone was irritable.

"You would like this," said Anne, gently, as she drew Judy down beside
her. "It's about the sea." She opened the despised book at the place
where