"Do you like to live here, Anne?" she asked, suddenly.

Anne, still bending over the tulips, lifted two surprised blue eyes.

"Of course," she said. "Of course I do, Judy."

"I hate it," said Judy. "I hate the country, Anne--"

And this time she did not express her dislike indifferently, but with a
swift straightening of her slender young body, and a nervous clasping
of her thin white fingers.

"I hate it," she said again.

Anne stood very still by the table. What could she say to this strange
girl who hated so many things, and who was staring out of the window
with drawn brows and compressed red lips?

"Perhaps I like it because it is my home," she said at last, gently.

Judy caught her breath quickly. "I am never going back to my home,
Anne," she said.

"Never, Judy?"

"No--grandfather says that I am to stay here with him--" There was
despair in the young voice.

Anne went over to the window. "Perhaps you will like it after awhile,"
she said, hopefully, "the Judge is such a dear."