Henrietta was really going this time, when as she opened the door, she was stopped by a new visitor. This was an elderly respectable-looking maid-servant, old Judith, whose name was well known to her. She had been nursery-maid at Knight Sutton at the time “Miss Mary” arrived from India, and was now, what in a more modernized family would have been called ladies’-maid or housekeeper, but here was a nondescript office, if anything, upper housemaid. How she was loved and respected is known to all who are happy enough to possess a “Judith.” “I beg your pardon, miss,” said she, as Henrietta opened the door just before her, and Mrs. Frederick Langford, on hearing her voice, called out, “O Judith! is that you? I was in hopes you were coming to see me.” She advanced with a courtesy, at the same time affectionately taking the thin white hand stretched out to her. “I hope you are better, ma’am. It is something like old times to have you here again.” “Indeed I am very glad to be here, Judith,” was the answer, “and very glad to see you looking like your own dear self.” “Ah! Miss Mary; I beg your pardon, ma’am; I wish I could see you looking better.” “I shall, I hope, to-morrow, thank you, Judith. But you have not been introduced to Henrietta, there.” “But I have often heard of you, Judith,” said Henrietta, cordially holding out her hand. Judith took it, and looked at her with affectionate earnestness. “Sure enough, miss,” said she, “as Missus says, you are the very picture of your mamma when she went away; but I think I see a look of poor Master Frederick too.” “Have you seen my brother, Judith?” asked Henrietta, fearing a second discussion on likenesses. “Yes, Miss Henrietta; I was coming down from Missus’s room, when Mr. Geoffrey stopped me to ask how I did, and he said ‘Here’s a new acquaintance for you, Judith,’ and there was Master Frederick. I should have known him anywhere, and he spoke so cheerful and pleasant. A fine young gentleman he is, to be sure.” “Why, we must be like your grandchildren!” said Henrietta; “but O! here comes Fred.” And Judith discreetly retreated as Fred entered bearing a summons to his sister to come down to tea, saying that he could scarcely prevail on grandmamma to let him take the message instead of coming herself. They found Queen Bee perched upon the arm of her grandpapa’s chair, with one hand holding by his collar. She had been coaxing him to say Henrietta was the prettiest girl he ever saw, and he was teasing her by declaring he should never see anything like Aunt Mary in her girlish days. Then he called up Henrietta and Fred, and asked them about their home doings, showing so distinct a knowledge of them, that they laughed and stood amazed. “Ah,” said grandpapa, “you forgot that I had a Queen Bee to enlighten me. We have plenty to tell each other, when we go buzzing over the ploughed fields together on a sunny morning, haven’t we, Busy, Busy Bee?”