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 let Mary put the screen to the back of your chair, for goodness’ sake.”

When the plum-pudding’s remains had passed away and the perfunctory dessert was over the Aunt retired to rest.

Judy was left to face the grey afternoon alone. She sat staring into the fire till her eyes ached. She felt very lonely, very injured, very forlorn. There was a footfall on the steps—a manly tread; a knock at the door—a kind of I have-a-perfect-right-to-knock-here-if-I-like sort of knock.

Judy jumped up to look in the glass and pat her hair, for no one but an idiot could have helped knowing who it was that stepped and knocked.

He came in.

“Alone?” said he. “What luck! I asked for the Aunt. Meant to say Friend of your Father’s, and all that. But this is better. Judy, I couldn’t stand it.... She’s coming. I can hear her.”

There was indeed a sound of stout house boots trampling overhead, of drawers being pulled out, of wardrobe doors being opened.

“I wish everything was different,” said he; “but, oh Judy, darling, do say yes! say it now, this minute; and then when she