"The time when gods used to walk upon the earth is over, my dear Hilda," she used to say. "When I find the perfect man, I will marry him, but not before." Mildred, who was twenty-six years of age, had therefore the youngest and smoothest of faces; care had never touched her life, and wrinkles were unlikely to visit her. For some reason, however, she looked careworn now, and Judy, with a child's quick perception, noticed it. She was fond of Mildred, and she put up her lips for a kiss. "What's the matter, Milly?" she asked; "have you a cold?" "No, my love; on principle I never allow myself to have anything so silly; but I am shocked, Judy--shocked at what I have read in the morning papers." "Oh, about our money," replied Judy in an unconcerned voice. "Have you found that wasp, Babs? Are you looking on _all_ the ivy leaves?" "I picked an ivy leaf, and put it down just here," replied Babs, "and I put the wasp in it most carefully; the wind must have caught it and blown it away." "Oh, dear; oh, dear! the poor creature, what will become of it?" answered Judy. She was down on her hands and knees again, poking and examining, but poking and examining in vain. "It's very rude of you, Judy, not to pay me the least attention," said Mildred. "I have come over on purpose to see you, and there you are squatting on the ground, pushing all that rubbish about. You have no manners, and I'll tell Hilda so; and, Babs, what are you about not to give me a hug?" [Illustration: "I HAVE COME ON PURPOSE TO SEE YOU, JUDY." P. 60.] Babs raised a somewhat grimy little face. "We can't find the poor wasp," she said. "He was rolled up in the spider's web, and I put him on an ivy leaf, and now he's gone." "You had better go on looking for him, Babs," said Judy, "and I'll talk to Milly." She rose as she spoke and placed her dirty little hand on Miss Anstruther's arm. "So you heard about our money, Milly?" she said. "Aunt Marjorie is in an awful state, she has cried and cried and cried; but the rest of us don't care." "You don't care? Oh, you queer, queer people! You don't mean to tell me, little Judy, that Hilda doesn't care?" "Hilda cares the least of all," replied Judy; "she has got Jasper." Judy's face clouded over as she spoke. "I wonder what _he'll_ say to this business," remarked Miss Anstruther, half to herself; "he's not at all well off--it ought to make a tremendous difference to him." "He certainly isn't to be pitied," said Judy; "he's going to get Hilda." "And what about Hilda's money?" laughed Miss Anstruther. Her face wore an expression which was almost disagreeable, her big blue eyes looked dark as they gazed at the child. Judy's own little face turned pale. She didn't understand Miss Anstruther, but something impelled her to say with great fierceness: "I hate Jasper!" Miss Anstruther stooped down and kissed her.