"I hate them," said Judy calmly.

Before Anne could recover from the shock of such a statement, the Judge
waved the young people away.

"Run along, run along," he ordered, "I want to talk to Mrs. Batcheller,
you show Judy around a bit, Anne."

"Anne can set the table for lunch," said the little grandmother. "Of
course you'll stay, you and Judy. Take Judy with you, Anne."

Belinda and Becky Sharp followed the two girls into the dining-room.
Becky perched herself on the wide window-sill in the sunshine, and
Belinda sat at Judy's feet and blinked up at her.

"Belinda is awfully spoiled," said Anne, to break the stiffness, as she
spread the table with a thin old cloth, "but she is such a dear we
can't help it."

Judy drew her skirts away from Belinda's patting paw. "I hate cats,"
she said, with decision.

Anne's lips set in a firm line, but she did not say anything.
Presently, however, she looked down at Belinda, who rubbed against the
table leg, and as she met the affectionate glance of the cat's green
orbs, her own eyes said: "I am not going to like her, Belinda," and
Belinda said, "Purr-up," in polite acquiescence.

Judy had taken off her hat and coat, and she sat a slender white figure