ng had done its work. It might
slink away now and stay.

It was a hard night for Judith. Joyful thoughts and evil ones
conflicted with each other, and among them all she could not sleep.
It was nearly morning before she snuggled up against Blossom's little
warm body and shut her eyes. Her plans were made, as far as she could
make them. To-morrow she would go down and question the hotel mother,
as Uncle Jem said. To-morrow--she must not wait. And after that--after
that, heaven and earth and the waters of the sea must help her. There
must be no faithlessness or turning back.

"You shall walk, little Blossom," Judith whispered softly.

How could she know how soon the sea would help?

Chapter III.

"I want to go, Judy--please, please!"

Blossom was up on her elbow, pleading earnestly. Judith was dressing.

"It's a Blossom day--you know it's a Blossom day! And Jemmy Three'll
carry me down. _I_ know Jemmy Three will! I haven't been out
a-dorying for such a long time; Judy--please!"

It was always hard work for Judith to refuse Blossom anything.
Besides--Judith went to the window and lifted the scant little
curtain--yes, it certainly was a "Blossom day." The sky was
Blossom-blue, the sea spread away out of sight, Blossom-smooth and
shining. And the little pleader there in the bed looked so eager and
longing--so Blossom-sweet! She should go "a-dorying," decided Judith,
but it would not be Jemmy Three that carried her down to the sea.

"You little tease, come on, then!" laughed Judith. "I'll dress you in
double-quick, for I've got to get out to my traps."

Judith had overslept, for a wonder. When had Judith done a thing like
that before! For two hours Blossom had been awake, lying very quietly
for fear of waking Judy; poor, tired Judy must not be disturbed.
Downstairs mother had gone away to her work at the beautiful summer
cottage down-beach, beyond the hotel. It was ironing-day at the
cottage, and all day mother would stand at the ironing-board, ironing
dainty summer skirts and gowns.

"I'll ride in front an' be a--a what'll I be, Judy?"

"A little bother of a Blossom in a pink dress," laughed Judith, as
she buttoned the small garments with the swift, deft fingers that had
buttoned them for six years.

"No, no! a--don't you know, the kind of a thing that brings good luck?
You read it to me your own self, Judy Lynn!"

"I guess you mean a _mastif_," Judith said slowly. "Queer it sounds
so much like a do