ht down."

"I don't like you to drink it."

"It would be a great deal pleasanter to drink it, than to swallow it in
that way," said Judy, coming across the room with a hop, skip and jump
indescribable. "But coffee is coffee anyhow. Mayn't I take it a little
cooler and a little slower next time?"

"It will make your complexion thick."

"It will make my eyes bright, though," said Judy unblushingly.

"I never heard that," said Mrs. Bartholomew laughing.

"O but I have, though," said Judy. "I have seen your eyes ever so
bright, mamma, when you have been drinking coffee."

"Yours are bright enough without it," said her mother.

"Yes'm," said Judy contentedly, standing her ground.

Matilda wondered a good deal at both mother and daughter, and she was
amused too; Judy was so funnily impudent, and Mrs. Bartholomew so
lazily authoritative. She nestled within Mrs. Laval's arm which
encircled her, and felt safe, in the midst of very strange social
elements. Mrs. Lloyd eyed her.

"How old is that child, Zara?"

"About Judith's age."

"No, she isn't, aunt Zara," said Judy. "She is about seven years and
three months."

"And what are you?" said her aunt.

"Judith is over twelve," said Mrs. Bartholomew. "Surely that child is
not so old?"

"Matilda is the shortest," said Mrs. Laval, looking from one to the
other.

"And much the youngest looking," said Mrs. Lloyd. "How do you like New
York, my dear?"

"She likes it," said Judy,--"if she only could have got a black satin
cloak."

Matilda stared at her in mingled amazement and shame. Mrs. Laval
laughed and hugged Matilda up a little closer.

"A black satin cloak?" she repeated. "Did you wish for a black satin
cloak, my dear?"

"Trimmed with a deep fall of lace," added Judy.

"O Judy," exclaimed Matilda, "you said nothing about lace!"

"You wanted it, though," said Judith.

"I never thought of such a thing, mamma, as lace," said Matilda
appealingly.

"But you did wish for the satin?"

"Judy seemed to think it would be pretty. She wanted me to ask you to
get it."

The shout of laughter which was raised upon this, Matilda did not at
all understand. They all laughed, Judy not the least of them. Matilda
was very much ashamed.

"Oh Judy, Judy!" her aunt said. "Matilda, black satin is what old
ladies wear. She has been fooling you, as she fools everybody. You
mustn't believe Judy Bartholomew in anything she tells you. You would
be a little old woman, in a bl