"But you must not do that, my dear," said Mrs. Brown. "That would not be quite fair to Elise. You see it is only surmise on our part."
"Right as usual, mother, but it is going to be hard to see things going wrong when a word would right them. Judy means no harm and is really doing nothing. She takes long walks with Mr. Kinsella and Pierce, and Mr. Kinsella delights in Judy's frankness and originality. He likes to be with her, but as for thinking of her in any other light than as Pierce's playmate,—I don't believe it has entered his head."
"I am sure it hasn't; but Elise has had very few friends and has been brought up in such a selfish world, that she is perhaps prone to see the wrong motive. Molly, do you feel well? I have fancied you were a little pale lately and not quite so enthusiastic as usual."
Just then there was a knock on the door and the concierge's little son entered, bringing a stack of mail. One from Wellington was on top, and Molly was able truthfully to tell her mother that she never felt better in her life.
CHAPTER XIII.
A JULIA KEAN SCRAPE.
One day in late February when there was a faint hint of spring in the air, on the way to the art school Judy said to Elise:
"I am dead tired of drawing from a model indoors. I've a great mind to cut the whole thing and do something desperate. I know the sap is rising in the trees and the color is getting wonderful and more wonderful every day. I believe I'll go on a high old lonesome to the country, take my sketch box, pick up some luncheon where I happen to land and have a general holiday. Why don't you come, too?"
"Thank you, no. If I should go, too, it would not be a high old lonesome for you; and then, besides, I am so interested in the model this week," said Elise.