aughed Miss Anstruther. Her face wore
an expression which was almost disagreeable, her big blue eyes looked
dark as they gazed at the child.

Judy's own little face turned pale. She didn't understand Miss
Anstruther, but something impelled her to say with great fierceness:

"I hate Jasper!"

Miss Anstruther stooped down and kissed her.

"You are a queer, passionate little thing, Judy," she said, "but it's a
very good thing for Hilda to be engaged to a nice sensible fellow like
Jasper Quentyns, and of course it is more important now than ever for
her. He'll be disappointed, of course, but I dare say they can get along
somehow. Ah, there's Aunt Marjorie coming out of the house. I must run
and speak to her, poor dear; how troubled she looks! and no wonder."

Mildred ran off, and Judy stood where she had left her, in the center of
the lawn, quivering all over.

What did Milly mean by saying that Jasper would be disappointed--Jasper,
who was going to get Hilda--Hilda herself? What could anyone want more
than the sun? what could any man desire more than the queen of all
queens, the rose of all roses?

Thoughts like these flitted through little Judy's mind in confused
fashion. Hilda was to be married to Jasper, and the Rectory of Little
Staunton would know her no more. That indeed was a sorrow to make
everyone turn sick and pale, but the loss of the money was not worth a
moment's consideration.

Judy wandered about, too restless and unhappy to settle to her play.
Babs shouted in the distance that the wasp was not to be seen. Even the
fate of the poor wasp scarcely interested Judy at present. She was
watching for Mildred to reappear that she might join her in the avenue
and ask why she dared to say those words about Jasper.

"Well, Judy," said Miss Anstruther by and by, "here I am, back at last.
I saw Aunt Marjorie, but I didn't see the Rector, and I didn't see
Hilda. Aunt Marjorie tells me that Jasper Quentyns is coming down
to-night, so I suppose he's going to take everything all right."

"What do you mean, Milly?" asked Judy.

"Why do you look at me in that fierce way, you small atom?" answered
Mildred, stopping in her walk and looking at the child with an amused
smile on her face.

"Because I don't understand you," said Judy.

"It is scarcely likely you should, my darling. Let me see, how old are
you--nine? Well, you'll know something of what I mean when you're
nineteen. Now I must go."

"No, stop a bit, M