e flopped down again on her
seat, and her red face grew purple. "Are you quite well, Miss Judy? You
haven't been reading naughty books now, that you shouldn't open? What
could put such thoughts into the head of a little miss like you?"

"Please answer me, Sutton, it is most important. Is it dreadful to be
engaged to be married? and are people fickle? and are promises broken?"

"But, my dear----"

"Will you answer me, dear, kind Sutton?"

"Well, Miss Judy, well--anything to please you, dearie--it all depends."

"What does it depend on?"

"Taken from the female point of view, it depends on the sort the young
man is; but, my darling, it's many and many a long day before you need
worrit yourself with such matters."

"But I want to know," persisted Judy. "People do get married. You were
married twice yourself, Sutton; you told me so once."

"So I was dear, and both my wedding gowns are in a trunk upstairs. My
first was a figured sateen, a buff-colored ground with red flowers
thrown over it. My second was a gray poplin. I was supposed to do very
well with my second marriage, Miss Judy."

"Then you were twice engaged, and twice married," said Judy. "I don't
want to hear about the wedding gowns, Sutton. I am rather in a hurry. I
want you to tell me about the other things. What were they like--the
being engaged, and the being married? Was the person fickle, and did he
break his promise?"

For some reason or other Mrs. Sutton's face became so deeply flushed
that she looked quite angry.

"I'll tell you what it is, Miss Judy," she said, "someone is putting
thoughts into your head what oughtn't to do it. You are a motherless
child, and there's someone filling your head with arrant nonsense. What
do you know about engagements and--and disappointments, and dreams what
proves but early mists of the morning? what do you know of fickleness
and broken promises? There, child, you won't get any of that bad sort of
knowledge out of me. Now you run away, dearie. There's someone been
talking about what they oughtn't to, and you has no call to listen, my
pet. There's some weddings happy, and there's some that aint, and that's
all I can say. Run away now, Miss Judy."

CHAPTER III.

A QUESTION AND AN ANSWER.

When some beloved voice that was to you
Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly,
And silence against which you dare not cry
Aches round you like a strong disease and new--
What hope? what help?