nd of the gray house, an
almond bush flung its branches of pink and white, and the grass was
violet-starred.

"Isn't that a picture, Judy," said the Judge to the girl beside him, as
they drove up, "that little old house, with the flowers and Anne and
her pets?"

But Judy was looking at Anne with an uplifting of her dark, straight
eyebrows.

"She must be a queer girl," she said.

"This is my granddaughter, Judy Jameson," was the Judge's introduction,
when he had shaken hands with Anne. "She is going to live with me now,
and I want you two to be great friends."

To little country Anne, Judy seemed like a being from another world;
she had never seen anything like the white hat with its wreath of
violets, the straight white linen frock, the white cloth coat, and the
low ribbon-tied shoes, and the unconscious air with which all these
beautiful things were worn filled her with wonder. Why, a new ribbon
on her own hat always set her happy heart a-flutter!

She gave Judy a shy welcome, and Judy responded with a self-possession
that made Anne's head whirl.

"My dear Judge," said the little grandmother from the doorway, "I am
glad you came. Come right in."

"You are like your grandmother, my dear," she told Judy, "she and I
were girls together, you know."

Judy looked at the little, bent figure in the faded purple calico.
"Oh, were you," she said, indifferently, "I didn't know that
grandmother ever lived in the country before she was married."

"She didn't," explained the little grandmother, "but I lived in town,
and we went to our first parties together, and became engaged at the
same time, and we both of us married men from this county and came up
here--"

"And lived happy ever after," finished the Judge, with a smile on his
fine old face, "like the people in your fairy books, Judy."

"I don't read fairy books," said Judy, with a little curve of her upper
lip.

"Oh," said Anne, "don't you, don't you ever read them, Judy?"

There was such wonder, almost horror, in her tone that Judy laughed.
"Oh, I don't read much," she said. "There is so much else to do, and
books are a bore."

Anne looked at her with a little puzzled stare. "Don't you like
books--really?" she asked, incredulously.

"I hate them," said Judy calmly.

Before Anne could recover from the shock of such a statement, the Judge
waved the young people away.

"Run along, run along," he ordered, "I want to talk to Mrs. Batcheller,
you show J