LITMIR.BIZ

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in moderation. Come upstairs and see my rooms,” and she slowly ascended another staircase.

      Vivienne followed her to the story above, and through a third square hall to a long narrow apartment running the whole length of the northern side of the house.

      Judy threw open the door. “Here,” she said, with a flourish of her hand, “having everything against me, I yet managed to arrange a sitting room where one is not in danger of being struck blind by some audacious blue or purple or red. What do you think of it?”

      Vivienne glanced about the exquisitely furnished room. “It is charming.”

      “Come in,” said Judy, hospitably pulling up a little white chair before the blazing fire. “We’ll have a talk.”

      “Do you know,” she went on, seating herself beside Vivienne, “this used to be a lumber room? I got Stanton to come up one day and look at it—he is as artistic in his tastes as mamma is inartistic—and he suggested all this. We cleared out the old furniture and put in those yellow panes of glass to simulate sunshine, and got this satin paper because it would light up well, and he had the white and gold furniture made for me. The cream rugs were a present from Uncle Colonel. Here is my bedroom,” and she hobbled to a door at the western end of the room and threw it open for a full view of the room beyond.

      “What a dainty place!” said Vivienne.

      “An idea strikes me,” exclaimed Judy, hurrying to the other end of the apartment. “Look here,” and she opened a second door.

      Vivienne surveyed a small empty room.

      “Wouldn’t you like this for a bedroom?” said Judy excitedly. “We can share this big room in common. You can read and work here, for I am sure you and I would pull well together, and like me you will just hate sitting downstairs all the time.”

      Vivienne smiled at her. “I should disturb you—and besides I have been put in the room below.”

      “You needn’t mind leaving it,” said Judy. “Mamma will be delighted to get you out of it; it is one of the guest rooms.”

      “Oh, in that case,” said Vivienne, “I will accept your invitation. You will speak to Mrs. Colonibel?”

      “I will go now,” said Judy, hurrying from the room. Vivienne sat down by the fire and dropped her head upon her hands. “I am not likely to be here long,” she said, “so it doesn’t matter.”

      “Mamma is delighted,” she heard presently in a shrill voice. “I knew she would be. There is some furniture that can be put in the room, and when the servants finish their work below they will come up and arrange it. What fun we shall have–”

      Vivienne looked kindly at the little cynical face.

      “’Till our first row,” said Judy, letting her crutch slip to the floor. “I suppose I shall hate you as I do every other body who has a straight back.”

      Vivienne did not reply to her, and she went on peering restlessly into her face. “Well, what do you think of us?”

      “This is not my first acquaintance with the Armours,” said Vivienne evasively.

      “Ah, you were once here as a little child; but you don’t remember much about them, do you?”

      “I remember Mammy Juniper,” said Vivienne, with a laugh, “and that she hated me and my father’s memory. I see that she still keeps up her old-womanish habit of prowling about the house at night.”

      “Yes,” said Judy peevishly; “and if we forget to lock our doors we find her praying over us at unearthly hours.”

      “She has been a faithful servant to the family, hasn’t she?” said Vivienne.

      “And she has a diabolical temper,” said Judy.

      “Don’t you think that she is crazy?”

      “A little perhaps, though I think that she pretends to be more so to cover her inconsistencies. She belongs to the Armours, body and soul, and prides herself on being a model Christian. I say the two things don’t go together. The Armours haven’t been famed for devotion to the cause of religion for some years.”

      “She talks about Ephraim,” said Vivienne; “who is he?”

      “Ephraim is Uncle Colonel,” said Judy, with a chuckle. “Did she mention his having made a covenant with the Egyptians?”

      “No.”

      “He has; and the Assyrians are the people of Halifax. If you can get her started on that you’ll be entertained,” and Judy began a low, intensely amused laugh, which waxed louder till Vivienne at last joined her in it.

      “It’s too funny,” said Judy, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I can even make Stanton laugh telling him about it, and he’s about the glummest man I know.”

      “Is he always as, as–”

      “As hateful?” suggested Judy cheerfully.

      “As reserved,” went on Vivienne, “as he is now?”

      “Always for the last few years. He gets too much of his own way and he worries over things. I asked him the other day if he had committed a murder. My, how he glowered at me! He’s the worst-tempered man I know.”

      “He looks as if he had plenty of self-control,” said Vivienne.

      “Wait till you see him in one of his rages—not a black one, but a white, silent Armour rage. He’s master absolute here, and if any one opposes him—well, it’s a bad thing for the family. You know, I suppose, that he has pushed Uncle Colonel out of the business?”

      “Has he?” said Vivienne. “I didn’t know it.”

      “Didn’t he write you while you were away?”

      “Business letters only,” said the girl, “and they were always written by Mr. Stanton, even when I first went.”

      “Well, Uncle Colonel is out,” said Judy. “Stanton won’t even let him live in the house.”

      “Why he was here last evening and this morning.”

      “Oh yes, he gets his meals here. He and Val live down in the cottage; look, down there among the trees,” and she pointed to the gabled roof of a handsome colonial building some distance below the house.

      Vivienne got up and went to the window.

      “It’s a great surprise to us all to have you come home so unexpectedly,” said Judy; “to mamma, especially, though she has always dreaded it. Did you know you were coming?”

      “No,” said Vivienne, in a low voice.

      “I thought that you were to be kept abroad now that you have grown up. I don’t know why Stanton brought you back. Does he mean to keep you here?”

      “I do not know.”

      “It would be a great deal pleasanter for you to live abroad,” said Judy, “and for us too. Your coming is sure to revive unpleasant memories.”

      Vivienne turned around swiftly. “What do you mean by unpleasant memories?”

      Judy stared at her. “Don’t you know all about yourself—about your father?”

      “I know that my father was obliged to work for his living,” said Vivienne proudly, “and that he served Colonel Armour long and faithfully. I see nothing unpleasant about that.”

      “No, that is not unpleasant,” said Judy. “But on your word of honor, do you know nothing more?”

      “I am at a loss to understand your meaning,” said Vivienne coldly.

      “And you will continue at a loss,” replied her new friend doggedly, “for I shall tell you nothing further. I am usually fond of gossip; now I shall hold my tongue.”

      Vivienne looked into the little, shrewd, not unkindly face and smiled. “You are an odd girl. How old are you?”

      “Sixteen

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