"My dear Judge," said the little grandmother from the doorway, "I am
glad you came. Come right in."

"You are like your grandmother, my dear," she told Judy, "she and I
were girls together, you know."

Judy looked at the little, bent figure in the faded purple calico.
"Oh, were you," she said, indifferently, "I didn't know that
grandmother ever lived in the country before she was married."

"She didn't," explained the little grandmother, "but I lived in town,
and we went to our first parties together, and became engaged at the
same time, and we both of us married men from this county and came up
here--"

"And lived happy ever after," finished the Judge, with a smile on his
fine old face, "like the people in your fairy books, Judy."

"I don't read fairy books," said Judy, with a little curve of her upper
lip.

"Oh," said Anne, "don't you, don't you ever read them, Judy?"

There was such wonder, almost horror, in her tone that Judy laughed.
"Oh, I don't read much," she said. "There is so much else to do, and
books are a bore."

Anne looked at her with a little puzzled stare. "Don't you like
books--really?" she asked, incredulously.