g to eat with it."

"I don't want anything to eat," Judy declared. "There's everything to
eat in that awful box--enough for an army--but I don't feel as if I
could ever eat again," in a tone of martyr-like dolefulness.

"Them things in there is for the picnic, miss," said Perkins. "It's
lucky you and Miss Anne didn't eat them," and he cast on the culprit a
look of utter condemnation.

At the word "picnic," Anne's soul sank within her. She had forgotten
all about the picnic in the excitement of the evening, all about Judy's
anger and the confession she was to make of the plans for Saturday.

She and the Judge eyed each other guiltily, as Judy sank down on the
bench and stared at Perkins.

"What picnic?" she demanded fiercely.

"The Judge said I was to get things ready, miss," said Perkins,
dismally, and looked to his master for corroboration.

"Didn't you tell her, Anne?" asked the Judge, helplessly.

Anne felt as if she were alone in the world. Perkins and the Judge and
Judy were all looking at her, and the truth had to come.

"We decided to have the picnic to-morrow, anyhow, Judy," she said. "We
thought maybe you would like it after it was all planned."

Judy jumped up from the bench and began a rapid ascent of the stairway.
Half-way up she turned and looked down at the three conspirators. "I
sha'n't like it," she cried, shrilly, "and I sha'n't go."

"Judy!" remonstrated the Judge.

"Oh, Judy," cried poor little Anne.

But Perkins, who had lived with the Judge in the days of Judy's lady
grandmother, turned his offended back on this self-willed and unworthy
scion of a noble race, and marched into the kitchen to make the coffee.

CHAPTER IV

"YOUR GRANDMOTHER, MY DEAR"

Judy had reached the door of her room when the Judge called her.

"Come down," he said, "I want to talk to you."

"I'm tired," said Judy, in a stifled voice, and Anne, who had followed
her, saw that she was crying.

"I know," the Judge's voice was gentle, "I know, but I won't keep you
long. Come."

Judy went reluctantly, and he led the way to the garden bench.

It was very still out there in the garden--just the splash of the
little fountain, and the drone of lazy insects. The moon hung low, a
golden disk above the distant line of dark hills.

"Judy," began the Judge, "do you know, my dear, that you are very like
your grandmother?"

Judy looked at him, surprised at the turn the conversation was taking.
"Am I?" sh