decorate the house."

"Oh, is it?" asked Amelia and Nannie together.

"Yes," said Judy, "and I want you to come to dinner and spend the
evening with us. I am not going to have a party, because father isn't
feeling as if he wanted to join in any gay things yet, but we can have
a nice time together, and it may be the last before Anne and I go away
to school."

"_Go where?_" gasped Nannie and Amelia and Tommy.

Judy explained. "We leave the first week in September," she ended.

"Oh, oh," cried the stricken three, "what shall we do. All winter--and
we can't have any fun--if Anne isn't here, nor you, Judy, and we had
planned so many things."

"Will you really miss _me_?" Judy asked a little wistfully, and at that
Nannie's hand was laid on hers, as the little girl murmured, "We shall
miss you awfly, Judy," while Amelia sighed a great, gusty sigh, as she
said, "Oh, dear, now everything's spoiled!"

"Do you want me to come to your birthday dinner, too?" asked Tommy,
anxiously, when the first shock of the coming separation was over, "or
ain't you goin' to have any boys."

"Yes, I want you and Launcelot," said Judy, who had debated the
question of being friendly with Tommy, for he hadn't seemed worth it,
but Anne had pleaded for him. "He really means well, Judy," she had
protested, "and I think he is going to turn over a new leaf."

"Well, I hope he will," said Judy, and forgave him.

When the big gate was reached, Nannie and Amelia and Tommy went on, and
as Judy and Anne went into the old garden, they found the Judge and the
Captain, both still semi-invalids, sitting there, amid a riot of late
summer blossoms.

As he greeted them, Captain Jameson's eyes went from the rosy, fair
face of little Anne to the pale but happy one of his daughter. "Father
is right," he thought, "Anne does her good."

"Isn't it lovely here," said Judy, dropping her great golden bunch with
a sigh as she sat down on the bench under the lilac bush. "It's so
cool."

"What a lot of goldenrod," said the Judge. "Aren't you tired?"

"A little," said Judy, as she took off her hat.

"Launcelot couldn't go," Anne started to explain, when Terry, who had
been investigating the hedge, barked.

"What's the matter with him?" asked Judy, as the small dog growled in
what might be called a perfunctory fashion, for he was so good natured
that he was in a chronic state of being at peace with the world.

She went to the gate and looked over.

"