quite simple
little tunes, if you did not inquire into problems of harmony and
counterpoint too closely. He was doing them now, weaving odds and ends
of familiar tunes, rather scapegrace and thin, into a lovely, reassuring
whole, that made you feel rested and safe. Judith, making herself
comfortable against a stiff and unwieldy Arts and Crafts sort of
cushion, as long experience had taught her to, listened, smiling.

She had no idea what a unique position she was occupying there. Judge
Saxon grumbled and scolded, but he was part of the group in the room.
He had grown into it, and belonged to them, as he might have belonged to
an uncongenial family. The Colonel's distinguished guests saw them only
on their best behaviour. Their local critics never penetrated here at
all. Judith was the only outsider who did, and she had besides the
irrevocable right of youth to pronounce judgment upon those who have
prepared the world for it to occupy. She was their only licensed critic.
What did she think of them? Her blond head drooped sleepily. She did not
look disposed to say.

Sebastian played on, drifting into something sophisticated, with a
suggestion of waltz rhythms running through it. There was a stir of
movement in the room, and the sound of windows opening and shutting,
once, and then again. Judith did not turn her head to see who had gone
out. She was too comfortable. It was strange that he could make you so
comfortable with his music, when he made you so uncomfortable if you
talked to him, watching you so closely with his queer, bright eyes.

He stopped abruptly, with a big, crashing discord, and Judith rubbed her
eyes and sat up. Mrs. Kent was going to sing now. She tossed some music
to him.

"That's over your head," she said; "over all your heads; better put me
up there, too, Cleve. Besides, I want to dance. That table will do."
She cleared it unceremoniously, with her husband's help, and established
herself there, poised motionless, through the introductory bars of the
song, her sleepy eyes wide awake now, and a red rose from a bowl on the
table caught between her teeth.

Quietly, always careful to avoid the reputation of being shocked, like
the Judge, Judith slipped down from her perch, and across the room, and
out through the window.

"Please keep my folks from kickin';
Grab me while I'm a chicken,
I'm getting older every day."

Mrs. Kent's fresh voice was urging, as Judith tiptoed across the
vera