"By your example, Annekins," said Judy, sitting up. "You're such a dear."
At which praise the rosy maiden got rosier than ever, and shook her loosened hair over her happy eyes.
The firelight flickered on the beautiful dark face on the cushions, and on the fair little one that rested against Judy's dress.
"We are such friends, aren't we, Judy?" whispered Anne, as she reached up and curled her plump hand into Judy's slender fingers. "Almost like sisters, aren't we, Judy?"
"Just like sisters, Annekins," said Judy, dreamily, with a responsive pressure.
Outside the wind moaned and groaned, and the rain beat against the panes. "I have never seen such a rainy season," said Judy, as a blast shook the house. "But I rather like it when we are so cozy and warm and happy, Anne."
The pop-corn was all eaten, and Anne was gazing into the fire, half asleep, when suddenly she started up.
"What's that, Judy?" she cried.
Judy raised her eyes from her book.
"What?" she asked, abstractedly.