"I won't tell her till we are ready for bed," was her sudden conclusion.

It was getting dark, but Judy hanging over the rail could just make out
the huddled blue gingham bunch.

"Aren't you coming up?" she asked, ominously.

"Yes," and with her courage all gone, Anne rose and began the long
climb up the stately stairway.




CHAPTER III

IN THE JUDGE'S GARDEN

The Judge's garden was not a place of flaming flower beds and smooth
clipped lawns open to the gaze of every passer-by.

It was a quiet spot. A place where old-fashioned flowers bloomed
modestly in retired corners, veiled from curious stares by a high hedge
of aromatic box.

There was a fountain in the Judge's garden, half-hidden by an
encircling border of gold and purple fleur-de-lis, where a marble cupid
rode gaily on the back of a bronze dolphin, from whose mouth spouted a
stream of limpid water.