spatched for a writing
desk; and then for a candle.

"There are no tapers in this concern," Judy remarked; "and the note
must be sealed. Somebody might find out that the bracelet is missing,
and so it would be missing for ever, from me. Satinalia, what do you
stand there for? Do you not hear me say I want a candle?"

"Can't you make believe as well?" asked Matilda, not Satinalia.

"You are too tiresome!" exclaimed Judy. "What do you know about it, at
all, I should like to know. I think, when I give you the favour of
playing with me, that is enough. You do as I tell you."

Matilda went for the candle, inwardly resolving that she would not
enjoy the privilege of practising with Judy another time unless Norton
were by. In his presence she was protected. A tear or two came from the
little girl's eyes, before she got back to the lobby with the lighted
candle. Judy perhaps wanted to make a tableau of herself at the letter
sealing; for she took an elegant attitude, that threw her satin drapery
imposingly about her and displayed her bare arm somewhat theatrically,
gleaming with jewels and softened by the delicate lace of the scarf.
But thereby came trouble. In a careless sweep of her arm, sealing-wax
in hand, no doubt intended to be very graceful, the lace came in
contact with the flame of the candle; and a hole was burnt in the
precious fabric before anybody could do any thing to prevent it. Then
there was dismay. Judy shrieked and flung herself down with her head on
her arms. David and Matilda looked at the lace damage, and looked at
each other. Even he looked grave.

"It's a pretty bad business," he concluded.

"O what shall I do! O what shall I do!" Judith cried. "O what _will_
grandmamma say! O I wish Christmas never came!"--

"What sort of lace is this?" Matilda asked, still examining the scarf
which David had let fall from his fingers. He thought it an odd
question and did not answer. Judy was crying and did not hear.

"The best thing is to own up now, Judy," said her brother. "It is no
use to cry."

"Yes, it is!" said Judy vehemently. "That's all a boy knows about it;
but they don't know everything."

"I don't _see_ the use of it, at all events," said David. "If tears
were spiders, they might mend it."

"Spiders mend it!" repeated Judy. "David, you are enough to provoke a
saint."

"But you are not a saint," said her brother. "It need not provoke you.
What are you going to do?"

"Judy," said Matilda sudd