r having seen her around here before, but then the girls have all
grown beyond me since I left home. She has what some people call
auburn hair, but I like to call it red, although it had lots of gold
in it. She got on the last stop before you get into Ryeville. Seemed
to know everybody on the car--even the motorman and conductor. At
least, I saw her chatting with them--the ones who were relieved at the
last switch and were eating their suppers. She was as lively as a
cricket--was just bubbling over with energy--"

"Oh, I know who that was," said Mildred. "It sounds like that forward
Judith Buck. She has no idea of her place. I never saw such a girl.
She rides around the country in a ridiculous looking little home made
blue Ford with a spring wagon back and puts on all the airs of
sporting a Stutz racer. She never stops for anybody but just whizzes
on by. Sometimes she even bows to us, although she gets mighty little
encouragement from me, I can tell you."

Suddenly there flashed upon Miss Ann's inward eye a picture of a
bright-haired girl in a little blue car who had passed her coach only
that morning, and with the picture came the remembrance of Uncle
Billy's words: "I ain't seed nothin' in this county ter put 'long side
er you lessen it wa' that pretty red-headed gal what went whizzin' by
us up yonder on the pike in a blue ortermobubble." She remembered that
he had declared the girl looked as she had looked in her youth.

Mildred continued her diatribe concerning the lively Judith: "Surely
you remember her, Jeff. She used to come here selling blackberries
when she was a kid--a little barefooted girl and as pert as you please
even then. After old Dick Buck died she used to trap rabbits and bring
them here for sale and sometimes fish. It always made me mad for Aunt
Em'ly to encourage her by making Mother buy the things. I think poor
persons should be taken care of all right but they should know their
place."

"But what is her place?" asked Jeff, a flush slowly spreading over his
handsome, rather swarthy countenance.

"Well, I should say her place was at the back door," declared Mildred.
"Old Dick Buck's granddaughter needn't expect to get any social
recognition from me."

"Me either!" chimed in Nan.

"Of course not!" said Mrs. Bucknor. Mr. Bucknor was reading the
morning paper and seemed oblivious to the conversation.

"She doesn't look to me like a girl who cared a whit for social
recognition," said Jeff quie