Part 26 (1/2)

But when Anne was fast asleep, and Judy lay awake, tossing restlessly in the gray light of the dawn, the little grandmother came in, in a flannel wrapper, with her curls tucked away under a hand-made lace nightcap.

”Can't you sleep, dearie?” she whispered, as she sat down beside the bed.

”No. I think, and think, and think--about grandfather, and what a worry I am--” and Judy gave a great sigh.

”He has so many cares.” The little grandmother's tone was gentle but it carried reproof, and Judy sat up and looked at her with troubled eyes.

”But I can't help my nature,” she cried, tempestuously. ”I can't bear to do things like other people, and when I get restless it seems as if I must go, and when I am angry I just have to say things--”

But the little grandmother shook her head. ”You don't have to be anything you don't want to be, Judy,” she said.

”But it seems so easy for Anne to be good,” pursued Judy, ”and so hard to me.”

”It isn't always easy for Anne,” said the little grandmother.

”Isn't it?” with astonishment.

”No, indeed. Anne has fought out many little fights of temper and wilfulness right here in this little room--she is a dear child.”

”Indeed she is,” agreed Judy, glancing at the serene face on the pillow.

”But Anne has learned to think for others. That is the secret, dearie.

Think of your grandfather, think of your friends, and it will be wonderful how little time you will have to think of Judy Jameson.”

”If I had my mother.” Judy's lip quivered.

The little grandmother laid her old cheek against the flushed one.

”Dear heart,” she said, ”I can't take her place, but if you will try to talk to me as Anne does, maybe I can help--”

”I will,” said Judy, and kissed her; but when the little grandmother had gone away, Judy could not sleep, and finally she got up and put on her red dressing-gown and sat by the window and looked out upon the waking world.

The robins were up and out on the dewy lawn, safe for once from Belinda, who was curled up sound asleep on the foot of Anne's bed.

Becky with her head under her wing was on top of the little bookcase, and the house was very quiet.

Suddenly through the mists of the morning Judy saw a carriage coming down the road.

It stopped at the gate and Launcelot leaped out.

Judy spoke to him from the window. ”Hush,” she said, ”every one is asleep. I will come down.”

As she met him at the lower door, he swung something bright and s.h.i.+ning in front of her eyes.

”We found it,” he whispered, excitedly, as Judy took her chain with a cry of delight. ”We came across the gipsies on the Upper Fairfax road.

The man tried to bluff it out, but the girl gave him away. While he was talking to Dr. Grennell she told me that he had it. I think she was mad at him about something, but she said he would kill her if he knew she told. So I just went on about the Judge and how he intended to put the police on the case if we didn't bring back the chain, and that he would be willing to hush it up if we got it, and so he handed it out--said it had been found on the ground after you left.”

”Where is Dr. Grennell?” asked Judy.