hedge, and great white ones that clung
lovingly to the old stone wall that was the western barrier of the
garden. And there was a bed of myrtle, and another one of verbenas,
over which the butterflies hovered on hot summer days, and another of
pansies, and along the wall great clumps of valley lilies. And at the
end of the path was a lilac bush that the Judge's wife had planted in
the first days of bridal happiness.

For years it had been a lonely garden, as lonely as the old Judge's
heart--for fifteen years, ever since the death of his wife, and the
departure of his only son to sail the seas, the darkened windows of the
old house had cast a shadow on the garden, a shadow that had fallen
upon the Judge as he had walked there night after night in solitude.

But this evening as he sat on the bench under the lilac bush, a broad
bar of golden light shone down upon the gay cupid and the sleeping
flowers, and from the open window came the lilt of girlish laughter and
the rippling strain of the "Spring Song," as Judy's fingers touched the
keys of the little piano lightly.

Presently the music changed to a wild dashing strain.

"It's a Spanish dance," Judy explained to Anne. She was swaying back
and forth, keeping time with her body to the melodies that tinkled from
her fingers.

"I can dance it, too," she added.

"Oh, do dance it, Judy--please," cried Anne. She was living in a sort
of Arabian Nights' dream. Hitherto the girls that she had known had
been demure and unaccomplished, so that Judy seemed a brilliant
creature, fresh from fairyland.

With a crash the music stopped, as Judy jumped up from the bench, and
went into the hall.

"Move the chairs back," she directed over her shoulder, and Anne
bustled about, and cleared a space in the centre of the polished floor.

In the meantime Judy bent over a great trunk in the hall.

"Oh, dear," she cried, as she piled a bewildering array of things on
the floor--bright hued gowns, picturesque hats, and a miscellaneous
collection of fans and ribbons. "Oh, dear, of course they are at the
very bottom."

"They" proved to be a scarlet silk shawl and a pair of high-heeled
scarlet slippers. Judy wound the shawl about her in the Spanish
manner, put on the high-heeled slippers, stuck an artificial red rose
in her dark hair, and stepped forth as dashing a senorita as ever
danced in old Seville.

"Oh, Judy," was all that Anne could say. She plumped herself down in a
big c