"Hum—" mused the Judge. "But I remember somebody in a little white gown with green sprigs, and a hat with pink roses under the brim."
"Judith and I had them just alike," smiled the blushing little grandmother.
"And you looked like two sweet old-fashioned roses," said the old man, "and you knew it, too. The world hasn't changed so very much, or girl nature."
"Perhaps not," confessed the little grandmother, her eyes still bright with the memories of youthful vanities; "perhaps not, and you may have your way, Judge, only you mustn't spoil my little girl."
"She can't be spoiled," said the Judge promptly, and went away triumphant.
And so it came about that in the trunk on which Anne sat were five frocks—two white linen ones like Judy's; a soft gray for cool days, an organdie all strewn with little pink roses, and an enchanting pale blue mull for parties.
No wonder that Anne sat on that trunk!
It was a treasure casket of her dreams—and with the knowledge of what it contained, she did not envy Cinderella her godmother, nor Aladdin his lamp!
"Amelia and Nannie are coming to say 'good-bye,'" said Anne, as two figures appeared far up the road, "they'd better hurry."
"Tommy is coming, too," said Judy. "I wish I could take them all with me."