Douglas rose, drawing himself to his full height. He was deeply offended.
"I thought you might understand me!" he exclaimed. He strode out to
Buster and galloped home.

It was extremely difficult to find a moment alone with Judith in the
two-room cabin; but the chores were late that night and Judith, instead
of helping her mother with the supper preparations, went out to milk, and
so Doug's second interview that evening was in the cow shed, for when he
reached the home corral, Judith had not finished her task.

This time, he was not precipitate. He sauntered into the little stable
with a manner of large leisure.

"Hello, Jude!"

"Hello, Douglas! Finished feeding?"

"No. I just got back. What did you think of the funeral?"

"I'm not thinking of it at all."

"Jude, don't you believe there's any hereafter?"

"Doug, I don't want to talk about it."

"But, Judith, I'm lonely and I've got to talk to some one."

Judith turned an indignant face toward the tall boy. "Don't you suppose
I'm lonely, too? What good does talk do? Religion is all right for little