"Some," modestly.

"And play?" Anne's eyes were on the little piano in the alcove.

"Yes."

"Play now," pleaded Anne.

But Judy shook her head. "After dinner," she said. "The bell is
ringing now."

Dinner at Judge Jameson's was a formal affair, commencing with soup and
ending with coffee. It was served in the great dining-room where
silver dishes and tankards twinkled on the sideboard, and where the
light came in through stained-glass windows, so that Anne always had a
feeling that she was in church.

The Judge sat at the head of the table, and his sister, Mrs. Patterson,
at the foot. Judy was on one side and Anne on the other, and back of
them, a silent, competent butler spirited away their plates, and
substituted others with a sort of sleight-of-hand dexterity that almost
took Anne's breath away.

Anne and the Judge chatted together happily throughout the meal. The
Judge was very fond of the earnest maiden, whose grandmother had been
the friend of his youth, and his eyes went often from her sunny face to
that of the moody, silent Judy. "It will do Judy good to be with
Anne," he thought. "I am going to have them together as much as
possible."