But Milly’s heart was too full to eat, even had she been hungry. Turn which way she would, she saw only the form of a cripple boy moving slowly through the drifts, back to the dark old kitchen, which she knew would that dismal day be all the darker for her absence. It was all in vain that the Judge sought to amuse her by showing her all his choice treasures and telling her she was now his little girl and should call him father if she liked. The sad, despondent look did not leave her face for the entire day, and just as it was growing dark, she laid her brown head upon the Judge’s knee, as he sat in his armchair, and said mournfully, “I guess I shall go back.” “I guess you won’t,” returned the Judge, running his fingers through her soft hair, and thinking how much it was like his own Mildred’s. “But I ought to,” answered the child. “Oliver can’t do without me. You don’t know how much he likes me, nor how much I like him. He’s missing me so now, I know he is, and I’m afraid he’s crying, too. Mayn’t I go?” Mildred’s voice was choked with tears, and Judge Howell felt them dropping upon his hand, as he passed it caressingly over her face. Six months before he had professed to hate the little girl sitting there at his feet, and crying to go back to Oliver, but she had grown strangely into his love within the last twenty-four hours, and to himself he said: “I will not give her up.” So after sitting a time in silence, he replied: “I can do you more good than this Oliver with his crooked feet.” “Yes, yes,” interrupted Mildred, “but it’s because his feet are crooked that I can’t leave him all alone, and then he loved me first, when you hated me and swore such awful words if I just looked at a flower.” There was no denying this,—but the Judge was not convinced, and he continued by telling her how many new dresses he would buy her,—how in the spring he’d get her a pony and a silver-mounted side-saddle—— “And let me go to the circus?” she said, that having hitherto been the highest object of her ambition. “Yes, let you go to the circus,” he replied; “and to Boston and everywhere.” The bait was a tempting one, and Mildred wavered for a moment,—then just as the Judge thought she was satisfied, she said: “But that won’t do Oliver any good.” “Hang Oliver!” exclaimed the Judge; “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll have a lady governess to come into the house and teach you both. So you will see him every day. I’ll get him some new clothes——” “And send him to college when he’s big enough?” put in Mildred. “He told me once he wished he could go.” “Great Peter, what next will you want? But I’ll think about the college; and if he learns right smart, and you behave yourself, I reckon maybe I’ll send him.”