"You won't go back this quarter at all, very likely not next either,
Judy dear. He says you shall go away with some of the others for
a change till you get strong; and, between you and me, I think
its very unlikely you, will go back ever again."

With this dread removed, Judy mended more rapidly, surprising even
the doctor with her powers of recuperation.

In three weeks she was about the house again, thin and great-eyed,
but full of nonsense and even mischief once more. The doctor's visits
ceased; he said she had made a good recovery so far, but should
have change of surroundings, and be taken a long way from sea air.

"Let her run wild for some months, Woolcot," he said at his last
visit; "it will take time to quite shake off all this and get her
strength and flesh back again."

"Certainly, certainly; she shall go at once," the Captain said.

He could not forget he shock he had received in the old loft five
or six weeks ago, and would have agreed if he had been bidden to take
her for a sojourn in the Sahara.

The doctor had told him the mischief done to her lungs was serious.

"I won't say she will ultimately die of consumption," he had said,
"but there is always a danger of that vile disease in these nasty
cases. And little Miss Judy is such a wild, unquiet subject;
she seems to be always in a perfect fever of living, and to possess