"But then, what is your notion of real goodness?"
"I don't believe there is such a thing. Come! you don't either."
"I don't believe in goodness?"
"Goodness!" repeated Judy impatiently, "you needn't stare. I don't choose to be stared at. You know it as well as I. When you are what you call good, you just want the name of it. So do I sometimes; and then I get it. That's cheap work."
"Want the name of what?"
"Why, of being good."
"Then goodness is something. You wouldn't want the name of nothing."
Judy laughed. "I haven't come here to be good to-day," she said; "nor to talk nonsense. I want to tell you about something. We are going to have a party."
"A party! when?"
"Christmas eve. Now it is our party, you understand; mine and Norton's and David's; mamma has nothing to do with it, nor grandmamma, except to prepare everything. That she'll do; but we have got to prepare the entertainment; and we are going to play games and act proverbs; and I have come to see how much you know, and whether you can help."