She tipped her head backward in deliberate imitation of Edith Kent, whom she admired, half closed her eyes, like Lillian Burr, whom she admired still more, gazed up at the Colonel, and said, in her clear little voice:
"I was thinking about you."
"That's the answer," said Mr. Kent, and rewarded it with a lump of sugar dipped in his apricot brandy.
"For an ingénue?" said Mrs. Burr, very sweetly indeed.
"'She's getting older every day,'" hummed Mrs. Kent, in her charming, throaty contralto.
But Judge Saxon pushed back his chair and rose abruptly.
"I've had dinner enough," he said, "and so have you, Miss Judy."
"We all have, Hugh," said the Colonel quickly, and rose, too, and slipped an intimate hand through his arm. "Run along, children! Hugh, about that Brady matter——"
Judge Saxon submitted sulkily, but was laughing companionably with the Colonel by the time they all reached the library.
Judith never admired the Colonel more than when he was managing Judge Saxon in a sulky mood. And she never admired the Colonel and his friends more than she did in the lazy intimate hour here before the cards began.