ly going to bed at nine o'clock, but a heroine of
history, dedicated to the cause of one Thomas, the Downtrodden.

CHAPTER XIX

PERKINS CLEANS THE SILVER

All the next day, Tommy skulked in the shadow of the pier and in the
boat-house, whence during the morning Judy made her way laden with
mysterious bundles and various baggage. At noon she departed for Lutie
Barton's, leaving Anne, who had a cold, at home.

After Judy's departure, Anne wandered listlessly about the house. She
tried to read, to sew a little, to pick out some simple tunes on Judy's
piano, but thoughts of the little gray house, of the little
grandmother, of Becky and Belinda, came between her and her
occupations, so that at last, late in the afternoon, she sought the
society of Perkins, who was in the dining-room cleaning silver.

"I believe I am homesick, Perkins," said Anne, perching herself in a
great mahogany chair opposite him.

"Well, it ain't to be wondered at," said Perkins, as he picked up a
huge cake-dish and began to work on it, energetically. "It ain't to be
wondered at. You ain't ever been away from home much, Miss Anne."

"It is lovely not to have anything to do," said Anne. "That is, it is
nice in a way, but do you know, Perkins, I sometimes just wish there
were some rooms to dust or something, but you and the maids keep
everything so clean," and Anne sighed a sigh that came from the depths
of her housewifely soul.

"You might dip these cups in hot water and wipe them as I gets them
finished," suggested Perkins, handing her several quaint little mugs,
which he had placed in a row in front of him.

"Aren't they dear," Anne said, enthusiastically. "Why this one says
'Judith.' Is it Judy's, Perkins?"

"No, Miss, that was her great-grand-mother's, and that one with 'John'
on it is the Judge's, and the one with 'Philip' is Miss Judy's
father's--they are christening cups, Miss--six generations of them."

"Oh, how lovely," said Anne, and she handled them lovingly, dipping
them into clear hot water, and polishing them until they shone.

"Judy never speaks of her father, lately," she said, as she placed the
"Philip" cup on the sideboard.

"No, Miss, but she thinks of him a lot," said Perkins, with a shake of
his old head. "I saw her this morning, Miss, standing in front of his
picture in the hall, and there were tears in her eyes, Miss, and then
all at once she whirled around and ran away, and her face had a wild
look o