to her
credit be it spoken) she could not forget old times. In the Rectory
gardens now the crocuses and snowdrops were putting out their first
dark-green leaves, and showing their tender petals to the faint winter
sunshine. Judy and Babs, wrapped in furs from top to toe, were taking
their afternoon walk--Babs was looking in vain for insect life in the
hedges, and Judy was opening her big eyes wide to see the first green
bud that ventured to put out its little tip to be greeted by the winter
cold. Aunt Marjorie was learning to make use of her legs, and was
glowing with warmth of body and vexation of spirit. The Rector was
tranquilly writing a sermon which, notwithstanding its polished diction,
should yet show the workings of a new spirit which would move his
congregation on Sunday.

Hilda seemed to see the whole picture--but her mind's eye rested longest
on the figure of the tall, rather overgrown child, whose eyes always
wore too hungry an expression for perfect happiness.

"Little darling," murmured Hilda, "how I wish I had her with me
here--she'd appreciate things so wonderfully. It is the greatest treat
in the world to take Judy to see a really good picture--how her eyes
shine in her dear face when she looks at it. My sweet little Judy,
Jasper does not care for me to talk much to you, but I love you with all
my heart and soul; it is the one drawback to my perfect happiness that I
must be parted from you."

Hilda rose as she spoke, and going over to a table on which her
traveling-bag stood, opened it, pressed the spring on a certain lock,
and taking out a little crumpled, stained letter, read the words written
on it.

"My darling Hilda [wrote the poor little scribe], this is to say
that I love you better than anyone else in the world. I'll
always go on loving you best of all. Please take a thousand
million kisses, and never forget Judy.

"P. S.--I'll pray for you every day and every night. I hope you
will be very happy. I won't fret if you don't. This letter is
packed with love.

"JUDY."

A step was heard along the passage; Hilda folded up the letter, slipped
it back into its hiding place, and ran down the long room to meet her
husband.

"Well, my darling," he exclaimed; "the English mail has just come in,
and here's a budget for you."

"And a budget for you too, Jasper. What a heap of letters!"

"Yes, and one of them is from Rivers. He rather wants me in L