Part 28 (1/2)

”I have very little doubt that it can. I shall go out now and speak to Susan and send her away. Thank you, Judy, for coming to me; I would do anything for you, because you are brave, and I respect and admire all brave people.”

CHAPTER XVIII.

GIANT-KILLER.

And the Prince, seeing that it was of no use to remonstrate, bowed and retired.

--THE GOLDEN BRANCH.

Susan came home and told her mistress that Judy was spending the day with Mr. Rivers.

”What an extraordinary thing for the child to do!” said Hilda.

”She said, ma'am, that Mr. Rivers asked her to lunch, and that you knew about it.”

”Yes; but why did she not say something to me when she was going out? It is so unlike Miss Judy to keep a thing of that sort to herself.”

Susan made no reply. She was no longer responsible, and was only too anxious not to betray the child.

”Mr. Rivers says he'll take the best care of her, ma'am,” she said, after a pause.

”Well, go and take off your hat, Susan, and lay the lunch,” said Hilda, feeling still more puzzled, but not caring to pursue her inquiries any further.

She had a sense of aggrievement and a feeling of added loneliness as she sat down to her solitary lunch. She missed Judy, and wondered at her sudden want of confidence; but soon the deeper trouble which Jasper's conduct had caused returned to trouble her, and she forgot her little sister in the sadness of her thoughts.

She spent a long and very lonely afternoon indoors, for she had not the heart to go out, and besides, she expected Judy home every minute.

She thought it likely that Rivers would take her somewhere after lunch, but surely he would bring her back to Philippa Terrace in time for tea.

Hilda ordered some cakes which she knew were special favorites of Judy's to be ready for this meal; and then she sat in her pretty little drawing room, and tried to divert her thoughts over the pages of the latest novel which had arrived from Mudie's.

It was either not specially interesting, or Hilda found it difficult to concentrate her attention. She flung the book on her knee, and sat absorbed in what Judy and Babs called a brown study. She was startled out of her meditations by Susan bringing in the tea-tray and the little kettle and spirit-lamp.

”Did Mr. Rivers say when he would bring Miss Judy home?” she asked of the maid.

Susan colored and hesitated slightly in her reply.

”No, ma'am; he said nothing at all about coming home,” she answered.

Hilda noticed her hesitation, but did not wish to question her further.

After the servant left the room, however, she began for the first time to feel both impatient and uneasy with regard to her little sister.

”If Judy is not here by six o'clock,” she said to herself, ”I will go to Lincoln's Inn Fields in search of her. How extraordinarily impatient she was to go out this morning; and how very odd of her to insist on going to Mr. Rivers', and to say nothing at all to me about it; and then how queer--how more than queer--her not having yet returned. My sweet little Judy, the most thoughtful child who ever breathed--it is unlike her to cause me anxiety of this sort.”

Hilda did not care for the social little meal which was generally so lively when Judy was present. Immediately afterward she ran upstairs to put on her bonnet and jacket; and as she was going out, left a message with Susan.

”If Miss Judy and Mr. Rivers come,” she said, ”please say that I have gone to Lincoln's Inn Fields, as I felt anxious about the child being so long away.”

”Yes, ma'am,” said the servant.