ns to-day, wasn't I?"

"Yes, Judy."

"You are not going to forget what you promised me?"

"I am afraid I do forget; what was it?"

"You said if I were really good I might stop at the church on my way
back and go home with Hilda. I have been good, so I may go home with
Hilda, may I not?"

"Yes, child, of course, if I promised, but we are only just on our walk
now. It is a fine autumnal day, and I want to get to the woods to pick
some bracken and heather, for your Aunt Marjorie has asked me to fill
all the vases for dinner to-night. There are not half enough flowers in
the garden, so I must go to the woods, whatever happens. Your sister
will have left the church when we return, Judy."

"No, she won't," replied Judy. "The practice will be twice as long as
usual to-day because of the Harvest Festival on Sunday."

"Well, if she is there you can go in and wait for her, as you have been
a good girl. Now let us talk of something else."

"I have nothing else to talk about," answered Judy, somewhat sulkily.

The bright expression which gave her small eager face its charm, left
it; she fell back a pace or two, and Miss Mills walked on alone in
front.

Judy was not popular with her governess. Miss Mills was tired of her
constant remarks about Hilda. She had a good deal to think of to-day,
and she was pleased to let her two pupils amuse themselves.

Judy's hungry and unsatisfied eyes softened and grew happy when their
gaze fell upon Babs. Babs was only six, and she had a power of
interesting everyone with whom she came in contact. Her wise, fat face,
somewhat solemn in expression, was the essence of good-humor. Her blue
eyes were as serene as an unruffled summer pool. She could say heaps of
old-fashioned, quaint things. She had strong likes and dislikes, but she
was never known to be cross. She adored Judy, but Judy only liked her,
for all Judy's passionate love was already disposed of. It centered
itself round her eldest sister, Hilda.

The day was a late one in September. The air was still very balmy and
even warm, and Miss Mills soon found herself sufficiently tired to be
glad to take advantage of a stile which led right through the field into
the woods to rest herself. She sat comfortably on the top of the stile,
and looking down the road saw that her little pupils were disporting
themselves happily; they were not in the slightest danger, and she was
in no hurry to call them to her side.

"Children are the most f