"I know," she said, smiling at Judith's raptures; "I've been there myself. I'm sure your mother thought two frocks ample for a sixteen-year-old, and I expect you have worn them so often already that you never want to see them again. Hannah shall help you freshen them up with a new flower or a bit of gauze, and I hope you will have jolly times in the new one."
Judith folded away the delicious bit of finery in its tissue wrappings, and then, standing at her dressing-table and looking dreamily and happily into the mirror, she made a picture of herself dancing in her silver frock with Catherine, admired by Nancy and Josephine, and envied by all the girls of South House, and she privately resolved at once to save enough out of her allowance for silver shoes.
"Hurry, hurry!" shouted Uncle Tom, and hastily donning her new skating outfit Judith joined the group in the hall.
They had glorious fun in the snow. Doris and Bobbie, rolled up in furs so that they looked like little 'possums, had turns riding in the new sled to the park, and then the whole family were packed into the big toboggan and Uncle Tom had more fun even than Bobbie. Oh, it was good to be alive!
Next morning brought a welcome letter from Sally May who was spending the holidays with Nancy in Quebec. Judith had just been thinking about them and wishing she could compare notes about Christmas presents, and have a really good gossip.
"Quebec is the most enchanting place," wrote Sally May; "you know how I've hated learning Canadian and British history—well, here the history is real—Nancy's father is awfully keen about the monuments and things and I'm getting to be keen myself. Jack has a couple of R. M. C. boys here for the holidays, and then there's His Lordship Brother Tim—Mrs. Nairn is a dear and is giving us an awfully good time. If only you were here, Judy, it would be perfect."
If only she were! Judith sighed and wished she had two big brothers—or at least that Nancy had included her in the invitation. She was right in her surmise that Sally May had been chosen because she was so far from home, but she couldn't help wishing—
Judith had heard Aunt Nell talking to a gentleman in the drawing-room across the hall, and now, to her surprise, Aunt Nell left him and came into the library looking somewhat puzzled.
"Mr. Nairn, Nancy's father, is here, Judith. I find that Mrs. Nairn and I are old friends. I hadn't guessed that your Nancy's mother was the Elizabeth Dalton I knew years ago. She has sent a very kind invitation for you to spend the New Year's week-end with them. Mr. Nairn is going to Quebec by to-night's train, and could take you with him and bring you back on Tuesday. I don't know whether I ought"—but at the sight of the ecstatic joy on Judith's face she did not finish her sentence. "Run along, dear, and pack the new frock. I don't need to ask you if you want to go. You have been a good child and I think you have had enough rest. Come first and be introduced to Mr. Nairn. It is kind of him to take you."
A radiant Judith packed a club bag and suitcase. Could Uncle Tom and Mother have guessed that such a fairy-tale was going to happen when they planned their gifts?—But, of course not. Where were her skates and plenty of handkerchiefs? Silver shoes she must have sometime, but here were the old white ones in the meantime.