she was not pleased with
herself. It was in the thick of the Christmas beef that the thought
awoke.

"_He_ is tired of meeting me; he has locked Alcibiades up. If he hadn't,
the darling _must_ have come." Since this solution left Alcibiades
without a stain upon his faithful character, it ought to have been
comforting, but it wasn't.

She felt her cheeks flush.

"Good gracious, child," said the Aunt, "what are you turning that
curious purple colour for? If the fire's too much for you, let Mary put
the screen to the back of your chair, for goodness' sake."

When the plum-pudding's remains had passed away and the perfunctory
dessert was over the Aunt retired to rest.

Judy was left to face the grey afternoon alone. She sat staring into the
fire till her eyes ached. She felt very lonely, very injured, very
forlorn. There was a footfall on the steps--a manly tread; a knock at
the door--a kind of I have-a-perfect-right-to-knock-here-if-I-like sort
of knock.

Judy jumped up to look in the glass and pat her hair, for no one but an
idiot could have helped knowing who it was that stepped and knocked.

He came in.

"Alone?" said he. "What luck! I asked for the Aunt. Meant to say Friend
of your Father's, and all that. But this is better. Judy, I couldn't
stand it.... She's coming. I can hear her."

There was indeed a sound of stout house boots trampling overhead, of
drawers being pulled out, of wardrobe doors being opened.

"I wish everything was different," said he; "but, oh Judy, darling, do
say yes! say it now, this minute; and then when she comes down I can
tell her we're engaged--see?"

* * * * *

"It's all very well," said Judy, two hours later, when, with the licence
of an engaged young lady, she said good-bye to her lover at the front
door. "You say you do--and--and yes, of course, I'm glad--but Alcibiades
doesn't love me any more."

"Doesn't he? you wait till I bring him to-morrow!"

"But he never came this morning."

"Poor little beast! Judy, the fact is I've gone on making the chain
heavier and heavier, and this morning--well, it was too much for him. He
couldn't drag it all the way: it was a regular ship's cable, don't you
know? I came up with him at Blackheath Station, and he was so done I had
to carry him all the way home in my arms. He's quite all right again
now; I left him at home, tied to the fire-irons in my bedroom."

"Then he _does_ love me, after all," said J