osed the dining-room door.

"Of course Judy doesn't mind being left," said Hilda in a joyful tone.
"I should love to go out somewhere with you, Jasper. I really do want a
little bit of change."

"Very well, my love; I'll take tickets for something amusing, and be
home to dinner at six."

Quentyns went out, and Hilda danced back to the dining room. Her husband
had been kind, with something of the old tender kindness, and her heart
leaped up like a flower answering to the sun.

Judy was standing by the window looking out.

"Isn't it a lovely day, pet?" said Hilda, coming up to her. "Suppose we
give ourselves a holiday, and go to the Academy together. I have not
been there yet this year, and you have never been in all your life,
puss. You know how you love pictures; fancy room after room full of
pictures--all sorts, good, bad, and indifferent; all colors in them; all
sorts of subjects depicted on the canvases. There's a treat for my
little artist--shall I give it her?"

"Yes, Hilda, I'd like to go with you very much."

"Are you tired, dear, your face is so grave?"

"No, darling, I'm not at all tired."

"Well, we'll give ourselves a holiday. Run up and put on your pretty
green cloak, and that big black hat with the green velvet. I want you to
look as picturesque as possible. I want to be proud of you."

Judy suddenly flew to Hilda, clasped her arms round her neck, gave her
a passionate hug, and then rushed out of the room.

"What's the matter with the child?" thought the elder sister for a brief
moment, "she was so bright yesterday, and even this morning, but now
she's dull, although she tries to hide it. I wonder if I ought to give
her some more of her tonic. Well, well, whether Judy is grave or gay, I
cannot help feeling very happy at the thought of going out with Jasper
once more."

Hilda gave all directions with regard to the nice little dinner which
was to precede the play. She found a story book which Judy had not yet
read, and left it in the drawing room ready for her entertainment when
she was away; then, dressed also in her best, she went out with her
little sister, and, calling a hansom from the nearest stand, drove to
Burlington House.

As usual the great exhibition was crowded with all sorts and conditions
of men--the fashionable, the studious, the artistic, the ignorant, were
all to be found there. Judy had a passion for art. She was an artist by
nature, down to the tips of her sensitive little