"Reading a book!" said Hilda; "but Judy does not like reading. Was the day wet when you called at the Rectory?"
"No; the sun was shining all the time."
"Why wasn't she out scampering and running all the time, and hunting for grubs?"
"She had a cough, not much, just a little hack, and Aunt Marjorie thought she had better stay indoors."
"Then she is not quite well!"
"Aunt Marjorie says she is, and that the hack is nothing at all. By the way, Hilda, if your husband won't spare you to go down to the Rectory, why don't you have that child here on a visit? Nothing in the world would do her so much good as a sight of your face."
"Oh, I know, I know; my little Judy, my treasure! But the spare-room is not ready, and Jasper is so prudent, he won't go in debt for even a shilling's-worth. He has spent all his available money on the house furnishing, and says the spare-room must wait for a month or so. As soon as ever it is furnished, Judy is to be the first guest."
"Can't you hire a little bedstead of some sort?" said Mildred, "and put it up in that room, and send for the child. What does Judy care about furnished rooms!"
"You think she looks really ill, do you, Mildred?"
"I will be candid with you, Hilda. I did not like her look—she suffers. It is sad to read suffering in a child's eyes. When I got a peep into Judy's eyes I could see that her soul was drooping for want of nourishment. She is without that particular thing which is essential to her."