Ellen came wandering round the side of the house, and Lucindy crooked a
trembling finger at her.

"Come here!" she called. "You come here and see me!"

Ellen walked up to her with a steady step, and laid one little brown
hand on Lucindy's knee. But the old Judge's daughter drew the child
covetously to her lap.

"Look here," she said, "should you like to go home and spend a week
with me?"

The little maid threw back her tangle of curls, and looked Lucindy
squarely in the eyes.

"Yes," she answered.

Lucindy's grasp tightened round her.

"How should you like to live with me?"

The child touched her little breast inquiringly with one finger.

"Me?" She pointed over to Mrs. McNeil, who lay listening and stretching
her limbs in lazy comfort. "Leave _her_?" And then, gravely, "No; she's
good to me."

Lucindy's heart sank.

"You could come over to see her," she pleaded, "and I'd come too. We'd